fic: a good day (bingo prompt "walking/taking a walk")
title: a good day
prompt: walking/taking a walk
summary: harley goes riding, sort of, on his day off.
notes: you may or may not have noticed that i know next to nothing about riding horses or how stables are run and how the grounds are laid out. someday i'll do some real research, i promise.
Harley isn't working on Tuesday, so he can go the stables like anyone else who stables his horse there. He can ride, rather than muck out stalls or run errands for the Larsens.
He stops by the office anyway, just to say hi.
Molly, his horse, is out in one of the fields, nibbling grass. She's already wearing a rope bridle, which makes it easy to coax her closer to the tack room and a saddle. She gets a sugar cube for standing patiently while Harley saddles her and replaces the rope bridle with a leather one with a real bit.
One of Molly's graces has always been her great patience. Sometimes the Larsens use her for kids who are afraid of horses, or who have never ridden one, or who have nervous parents. Harley has never minded. He's proud of the fact that his horse can be so placid.
Now he swings himself into the saddle, clucks at her, and walks her around for a while, to warm her up and think about where he wants to go, if he even wants to take her anywhere.
A couple of girls pass him and wave on their way towards the stables. Harley waves back, wondering who they are - they are far enough away that he can't easily see their features, and they’re both wearing hats that shade their faces. They probably just recognize him as someone who works here. He is occasionally surprised when people recognize him as an employee, but there's only one of him and many of them, and most of the time he's the tallest person around, so perhaps it shouldn't come as a shock.
After a few ambling circuits around the yard, Harley kicks his heels against Molly's flank to encourage her into a trot. She picks up her pace and as he turns her towards the far fields, she stretches out and breaks into a gallop.
Harley leans over her neck, urging her to go faster. He can hear the wind in his ears and feel the ground rushing by under Molly's hooves. He doesn't really want to go anywhere - he likes where he lives, he has no desire to leave - but times like these, he knows he could if he wanted. He could go anywhere and Molly would take him there.
She slows and stops after not even ten minutes, and Harley slides off the saddle as she drops her head and starts nibbling the grass. He has a couple of apples in the front pocket of his hoodie, one for him and one for her. She isn't interested, but he's kind of hungry, so he sits on the ground and eats one.
It's quiet out here. He can hear insects in the grass and Molly's calm chewing. He can feel his thoughts slowly turning over in his head, mostly thoughts about his truck and what he should make for dinner and if Corbin is busy at the gas station.
Harley is not a deep thinker, at least not often. And the day is too nice to think too deeply about anything.
He wishes Corbin was a rider - they could come out here together, sit on the grass and not do much of anything. But Corbin has never been that interested in horses. He can put up with Molly, because she’s Harley's horse and Harley loves her, but he doesn't care beyond that.
Molly lifts her head, whickers, walks in a half circle, and goes back to her grass. Harley watches her, watches the fields, thinks about nothing much. He eats the other apple. Eventually he'll have to take Molly back, but right now there are no demands on their time and Harley is content to just sit here and contemplate the sun and the breeze and his horse enjoying her grass.
Today is a good day. He plans for it to stay that way.
prompt: walking/taking a walk
summary: harley goes riding, sort of, on his day off.
notes: you may or may not have noticed that i know next to nothing about riding horses or how stables are run and how the grounds are laid out. someday i'll do some real research, i promise.
Harley isn't working on Tuesday, so he can go the stables like anyone else who stables his horse there. He can ride, rather than muck out stalls or run errands for the Larsens.
He stops by the office anyway, just to say hi.
Molly, his horse, is out in one of the fields, nibbling grass. She's already wearing a rope bridle, which makes it easy to coax her closer to the tack room and a saddle. She gets a sugar cube for standing patiently while Harley saddles her and replaces the rope bridle with a leather one with a real bit.
One of Molly's graces has always been her great patience. Sometimes the Larsens use her for kids who are afraid of horses, or who have never ridden one, or who have nervous parents. Harley has never minded. He's proud of the fact that his horse can be so placid.
Now he swings himself into the saddle, clucks at her, and walks her around for a while, to warm her up and think about where he wants to go, if he even wants to take her anywhere.
A couple of girls pass him and wave on their way towards the stables. Harley waves back, wondering who they are - they are far enough away that he can't easily see their features, and they’re both wearing hats that shade their faces. They probably just recognize him as someone who works here. He is occasionally surprised when people recognize him as an employee, but there's only one of him and many of them, and most of the time he's the tallest person around, so perhaps it shouldn't come as a shock.
After a few ambling circuits around the yard, Harley kicks his heels against Molly's flank to encourage her into a trot. She picks up her pace and as he turns her towards the far fields, she stretches out and breaks into a gallop.
Harley leans over her neck, urging her to go faster. He can hear the wind in his ears and feel the ground rushing by under Molly's hooves. He doesn't really want to go anywhere - he likes where he lives, he has no desire to leave - but times like these, he knows he could if he wanted. He could go anywhere and Molly would take him there.
She slows and stops after not even ten minutes, and Harley slides off the saddle as she drops her head and starts nibbling the grass. He has a couple of apples in the front pocket of his hoodie, one for him and one for her. She isn't interested, but he's kind of hungry, so he sits on the ground and eats one.
It's quiet out here. He can hear insects in the grass and Molly's calm chewing. He can feel his thoughts slowly turning over in his head, mostly thoughts about his truck and what he should make for dinner and if Corbin is busy at the gas station.
Harley is not a deep thinker, at least not often. And the day is too nice to think too deeply about anything.
He wishes Corbin was a rider - they could come out here together, sit on the grass and not do much of anything. But Corbin has never been that interested in horses. He can put up with Molly, because she’s Harley's horse and Harley loves her, but he doesn't care beyond that.
Molly lifts her head, whickers, walks in a half circle, and goes back to her grass. Harley watches her, watches the fields, thinks about nothing much. He eats the other apple. Eventually he'll have to take Molly back, but right now there are no demands on their time and Harley is content to just sit here and contemplate the sun and the breeze and his horse enjoying her grass.
Today is a good day. He plans for it to stay that way.