The 2014 Fall Show (Modern Warhorse Class)Come one, come all! Bring your horses and show the world what they can do! We have events for anyone and everyone, so don't be shy!Snjorrir
What is this?
This is a group-hosted show to celebrate Autumn, and all the awesomeness of the season, along with giving us an excuse to show off our fancy fluffy horses <3
Who can enter?
This show is open to ALL WARHORSES of the heavy or draught type.
(You may check here to see what qualifies)
You don't have to be a Snjorrir owner to enter this show, though some of the prizes you'll win will be related to the breed
This show will run till the 21st of December - the Winter Solstice n__n
:iconpumpkindivider1: All horses entering this competition must be atleast 5 years of age (unles
Bamf let out a happy nicker when he saw Rowan coming down the stable hallway. As far as he was concerned, she was his person. He knew that she had many other horses to work with, but she was the only people that he cared to work with. He tried not to get too excited, even as she got closer to his stall. There was no need to get riled up if she was here for someone else.
Still, he wasn’t about to be stand offish. Eagerly, he stretched his head out over the stall door. His efforts were rewarded when Rowan stopped and stroked his nose. Nickering in pleasure, Bamf nuzzled her pockets, searching for treats. He was so engrossed in his quest, he didn’t notice that she had picked up his halter until she was slipping it onto his face and clipping a lead rope onto it.
Yay! They were going outside! Bamf did a little jig in place, nearly stepping on Rowan’s toes. Whoops. Bobbing his head in excitement, he quickly resolved to try and be a good boy.
“All right, baby, want to work on our jumping today?” Rowan asked, stroking his mane as they walked.
The mane stroking felt good, and Bamf was a little put out when she stopped. Instead, she pulled a small black rectangle out of her pocket. It was making noises and bright lights. A little startled, he snorted and sidled away until Rowan gently soothed him and held the rectangle up to her ear.
“Hey Dad, how have you been?”
The voice in the rectangle was muffled, but Bamf could still make out the words.
“Hello, sweetheart. Your mother and I are fine- what’s going on with you?”
“Oh, nothing new. Could I actually call you back? I was about to train one of my young guys and he’s not so good at waiting.”
“Ah, needs some work on patience, I see. A good cow horse knows to wait until his rider is ready to move, you know.”
“He’s not exactly a cow horse, Dad.”
A long pause followed that statement.
“It’s not another one of those Ober things, is it?”
“He’s not an it, Dad. His name is Bamf, and yes, he’s an Obertaurer.”
“Bamf? That’s no name for a horse.”
“Well, his sire is called Badass, so….”
“What happened to working with respectable horses?”
“Obertaurers are respectable, Dad. They competed in the Olympics, in case you didn’t notice.”
“Hmmph. I noticed that they don’t run barrels, or have any cow sense.”
“Just because they aren’t Quarter Horses-“
“They’re fine for a hobby, but if you’re really going to make that stable into something, you need to get serious.”
Rowan let out a long sigh, and Bamf nuzzled her shoulder, trying to fix whatever had his person upset.
“Well, Dad, I am serious. In fact, I am very serious. I seriously need to go and train my horse. I love you, and I need to go.”
“Don’t get mad, Rowan, I just don’t want you to give up on your goals.”
“I haven’t given up on them. They’ve just been…. Redirected.”
“I just hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I do, trust me. I love you guys.”
“Love you too, Ro.”
Finally, Rowan put the black rectangle back in her pocket. Now maybe he could have his person all to himself. Happily, he walked beside her as they walked down the hallway. The other horses watched curiously, and he carried his head even higher. He was the one out of his stall with Rowan, and not them. Looking over her shoulder, she noticed his proud stance and smiled.
“That’s right, buddy. It’s all about you.”