Jumping at the chance.

[Camilla Ashby]

Camilla walked down the central aisle of the wooden barn until she reached the stall that had been assigned to her beautiful mare Tikarla. It had been a long journey over to america for the dutch bred mare. Camilla had decided last year that working at home in England on her mother's showjumping yard was not what she'd really wanted to do. Showjumping was her passion in life, her horse the most important thing and her whole world revolved around the two. Ever since birth Camilla had been thrown into the spotlight by her overly competitive and famous parents. She'd jumped BSJA for as long as she remembered competing for her country on numerous occasions on her string of well known and hugely talented ponies. As soon as she'd hit 16 she'd left school to work on the family yard, competing under the cedarwood park name and doing very well in her first two years on horses, a true prospect for the young rider championships. She loved it and she had all the drive in the world, but at the back of her mind she couldn't help thinking it was all down to he mother's name. Their family in England rivaled the world reknowed Whitakers and this wasn't how she wanted to succeed, she wanted to do it under her own steam. She'd researched places abroad for weeks before stumbling across Willow Creek. It took her days to complete her application and send it off. A few weeks later she recieved a letter of acceptance, who in their right mind would decline a celebrity of the horse industry like Milly?

It was desperately cold in Northern America at this time of year and Mill was dressed for the occasion. She wore her dubarry boots along with their fur topped boot warmers and extra socks, A pair of slightly worn but still close fitting jeans, several layers on her top half including a vest top, a polo shirt a hoody and then finally a Kingsland Gilet, then a scarf and a Kingsland Headband completed the look. Being sponsored by one of the most famous european equestrian clothing companies Kingsland had a lot of advantages, especially when it came to wrapping up warm.
She let herself into the stall where the mare was standing, dozing gently in the far corner of the spacious area. The deep clean shavings crunched underneath her feet as she made her way over, waking the horse up, she cooed softly before putting her hand gently under the many layers of rugs the horse was wearing, in the UK the temperature never got below freezing during the day normally but here it was already hitting the minus marks at 11 in the morning. She'd rugged the mare up well on arrival earlier and she was now stood wearing 3 heavyweight rugs and a fleece, luckily the horse wasn't too cold so she stepped back and rested against the wall, crooning once again at the mare. 'hey there marey, you settling in darling?' she whispered softly into the horse's neatly clipped ear.

[Jace Lasiter]

Jace eased the door to the stable open, after checking to see if anyone was in the aisle he stepped inside and eased the door closed behind him. He casually walked down the aisle his boots thudding lightly on the concrete as his gaze wandered from stall to stall. Not many here yet are there? he thought to himself as he paused for a moment outside a immacuatly kept stall. Jace often wondered how he came to be at Willow Creek. He hardly understood it himself. Sure he had a great horse and he was a natural rider, well animal person in general, and he was the best in state more than once. But Jace was still a small town country boy, and he for sure was not ashamed by it.

Jace continued on after readjusting the white cowboy hat on his head. He was making his way down the aisle when he spotted a young girl checking her horse who was piled under various blankets. Is she adjusting well? he asked as he stepped into the entrance of the Dutch warmbloods stall. That was another thing that made Jace feel out of place here, he rode western, as far as he could tell every one else rode some form of English, not to mention he was on of the only boys here and so far one of the oldest students at that. Jace let his brown eyes wander over the girl, wondering if it made her uncomfortable, since when did he care. He found her rather pretty, wearing the best designer gear on this cold day. He himself in nothing but old jeans a t-shirt and thick hoodie, as well as his beat up cowboy boots and hat, no sense in dressing all that great when you were around horses. He tucked his hands in to his pockets and met her gaze Name's Jace. People call me J or Ace, even though I think Jace is short enough. he said giving her a sly grin as he tilted his head ever so slightly to the side.

[Camilla Ashby]

Camilla sighed softly as she thought back to the things she'd left back in England. Her family, her friends and her horses. She'd never been overly close with her pushy competitive mother, as much as she'd known that deep down her mother loved her, she could never help the fact that having jumping, glamour and money thrown into her face since she was old enough to understand and all that put together was not what a successful mother/daughter relationship was based on. She'd always had her father of course to rely on, to be there for her and understand her, like the time in the europeans when the pressure of being favourite to win individual gold finally sent her into meltdown during her jump off. Ending up with 2 poles down she'd ended up third, third was not good enough for her mother, not on a 200k pony. Despite her mother competing at international level herself, she never seemed to be able to understand the need for Milly to have the pressure taken off and enjoy her horses more. The glamour side of things was something else Milly had never overly enjoyed, she had never wanted to make money from her good looks, she'd much prefer to hide from them and keep them understated and natural, rather than having her make-up applied every morning incase someone important and impressionable arrived at the yard. Her social group was something she missed incredibly, being able to finish her yard in the morning and pop over in her car and see a friend at their yard or over to her boyfriend's. The away shows were what she'd miss the most though, having her groom drive her down and stay whilst her mother and father were at different shows, meeting up with her friends and having alcohol fuelled fun until the early morning and having to get up at the crack of dawn to compete. But this was also what she needed to get away from she reminded herself, she could still compete at the europeans in the summer and the major shows but she had to crack down and be serious about things now.

She'd only bought her one mare, Tikarla, the one she'd paid for with her own money and trained without her mother's help. The mare was now competing at 1.40 level and it was all down to her and it filled her with pride. She had a string of equally talented animals that she'd left at home. They were soon to be delivered if she felt that it was right. She was still not sure about the idea of being at a school so far from home, especially when it was likely she'd competed at a higher level than her teachers. But she'd have to put these thoughts to the back of her mind, think more about the people here, make friends, fit in, find some males she could focus her worrying mind on.

Slowly stroking the mare she jumped as she heard someone enter the stall before looking up and seeing an unfamiliar face. Not that anyone's faces were particularly familiar, she'd only arrived in the morning, halfway through the academic year. Glancing over at the young man in front of her she took him in, his tall masculine figure and rugged good looks. 'I think she's doing okay, thanks. She's kind of used to it though, she probably doesnt think she's going to be here for more than a week. Not many of our away shows have lasted much longer. After a fortnight we'll see if she's okay, then she might realise she's here for good!' she joked, smiling softly at him before turning her attention back to the mare. She looked up again as she saw him talking, watching a grin edge across his face, she smiled again 'Well i'm Camilla. Milly, Mills or Cam usually suffices though' thinking how untrue it was and back to all the nicknames she had been given by her friends.

[Jace Lasiter]

Jace listened as she told him her name and told him that her horse was settling in well. Thats good, I'm assuming you go to alot of those big shows? What dicipline? he asked as he walked over to Camilla's mare. He let the mare sniff him before gently stroking her neck Theres a good girl, Whats her name? he asked looking at Camilla. He asked in a gentle tone, the horse seeming to have a calming effect on him. They always did, he never knew why. When ever he had a problem the first thing he did was go to the barn, maybe ride or work a couple of the horses. He had a nice string, none of them worthy to compete with the best of the best, aside from his own stallion. But they were good horses, all of which he trained himself, all rescues from somewhere. His father owned a training facility were Jace worked with the animals that had issues and he was great at it. But to him that was a little matter as was the competing. It was just a way to have some fun, not to say that Jace wasnt competitive, he was thats how he came to be here. His mother found out about this place and immediatly asked for him to enroll, knowing he wouldnt hear the end of it unless he did, he enrolled. To his suprise he was accepted. Coming out of his reverie, he looked the mare over with keen eyes, looking for any sign of stress or anything out of place, he smiled a little when he saw she was rather relaxed, a well trained show horse used to new places. He hoped the crazy stallion of his was settling in just as well.

[Camilla Ashby]

She stroked the mare once more on her neck before bending over and checking her bandages for the tightness. Having a yard of fifteen of her own to look after back home she was used to bandaging up the legs on the clipped horses in winter and those that didnt get turnout so their legs didn't swell. They were warm in the cold weather but not hot, she knew first and foremost that tendons were not meant to be hot! 'Yes we do' she smiled as she replied to Jace, she loved it when people showed an interest in her horses and her competing. 'I compete in Showjumping. I used to be a regular on the circuit back home. I was out 2 maybe 3 times a week. I had the horsepower you see, hopefully i will over here soon too if it all works out that is' She smiled at him once again, taking in his appearance and coming to the conclusion he rode western and not english. 'I take it you ride western then? Never had an interest in the english way?' she asked, truely interested, she knew next to nothing about western riding, it'd be good to get an insight, a new perspective, she didn't know how different the two styles of riding were.

She glanced at the mare before deciding now was the right time to ride, she was used to arriving in strange newplaces and being ridden straight away so settling in was not something Milly had to worry about. She led the way out of the stable, clipping up the fabric embroidered stall guard as she left, it was in her colours, navy, royal blue and white. She stopped at the tack trunk outside and opened it up. The large wooden chest opened to reveal a overly neat and organised arrangement. She pulled out a set of leather tendon and fetlock boots and a clean saddlecloth and sheepskin pad. She tossed them onto the floor next to the box and retrieved her GPA hat from the opposite side along with her long parlanti boots, the limited edition st george's flag style and a pair of rounded spurs and a crop before securing the trunk's lid once more. She made her way into the tackroom which was further along the same wall and decided on her jumping tack. It surprised some people that she had a dressage saddle as well but she knew how important flatwork was to her jumping and so always kept it around. She picked up the prestige saddle and the stud guard along with the plain cavesson bridle. The mare was extremely soft in the mouth and so only needed a simple rubber snaffle in her mouth. It'd be nice to show her new aquaintance what she was made of and give him a demonstration on showjumping. Hopefully he'd show her some of his riding in return.

[Jace Lasiter]

Jace listened as he followed her out of the stall and into the aisle where she began to gather her equipment. You’d be assuming right. I never really did care much for English, though one of my best friends rides it, she does show jumping and dressage. he said as he continued to watch her gather her tack. Mind if I join you? he asked referring to the ride she was about to go on. Without waiting for an answer he walked down the aisle and paused at the door I’ll meet you outside. he called before stepping outside and briskly walking towards the stallions barn.

When he opened the door to the stallion barn he whistle softly, a black and white head appeared over one of the stall doors and nickered to him. And how’s my boy doin’ this morning? he said as he strode down the aisle and slipped into the stall. He knelt and felt the stallions legs and under the fleece winter blanket, satisfied he walked back out and opened up the tack box in front of the stallions stall. It was well organized and he found what he needed quickly. He gathered a pair of black nylon splint boots, his rounded knob spurs and a thick western style saddle pad. Laying them on top of the box he walked into the tack room and took down the stallions one-ear leather head stall with a simple jointed snaffle bit . he put it on the horn of the saddle and eased the saddle off the rack before carrying it back to the stall and setting it on the door to Lerato’s stall. He quickly took of the blanket and groomed the stallion before fitting the saddle and saddle pad on to Lerato’s back. He then fixed the boots on Lerato’s two front legs and slipped the headstall on to the stallion. After checking and adjusting Lerato’s tack. He lead the stallion outside, not seeing her yet he began to work the stallion in small circles to get the tickle out of his feet.