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(( 8 Guardian, 9:35, Rainesfere Stables, Early Morning -- @Breanna Guerrin ))
The morning was crisp and unseasonably cool, though that had been through no design of Teagan's. When he suggested Breanna should learn to ride, it had evidently not occurred to him that those words must come to fruition at some point. Now they manifested in an only mildly experienced rider teaching someone who'd never ridden at all. Terrible advice was certain to abound, but at least the weather was nice.
With Breanna's input, he'd spoken to Redcliffe's Master of Horses to determine which horse might be a good fit for a first-time rider. The man had sent over three different even-tempered mares, though the roan one was presently giving him a very cross look from her stall and seemed as though she might like very much to chew the braid out of his hair.
Teagan took a step away, his riding coat brushing the back of his legs as he did so. As poor of an idea as it likely he was, he remained unaccompanied--for the moment. One of his knights--and a far more experienced rider than he would ever be--had agreed to ride a good distance behind them. If he was so awful at giving instruction in this, the woman would offer guidance. Coincidentally, she was also present to throw one or both of them over her horse and carry them from the foothills if this all went so terribly that they couldn't get themselves back to civilization.
Teagan dearly hoped that would not be the case.
Not only because it was inconvenient to explain to a healer that you in fact fell off a horse and were not thrown, but because this was an opportunity of sorts. It was a touch sentimental, perhaps, but he'd missed out on... everything. These lessons would finally give him the chance to impart some manner of fatherly wisdom, no matter how shaky.
So he waited at the stables for Breanna, his own chestnut stallion snorting restively outside, his saddlebags containing savory pastries and a few other breakfast items, as well as some oats that Teagan could only assume were for Bastian, not himself or his daughter. He stood tall, back straight, and did his best no to fidget until he saw her crest the small hill that led down from the estate.
"I've given it some thought, and I've decided we should build an airship instead. Much safer. Especially as I know... absolutely nothing about engineering," which would only be a small downgrade from his knowledge about horses.
The morning was crisp and unseasonably cool, though that had been through no design of Teagan's. When he suggested Breanna should learn to ride, it had evidently not occurred to him that those words must come to fruition at some point. Now they manifested in an only mildly experienced rider teaching someone who'd never ridden at all. Terrible advice was certain to abound, but at least the weather was nice.
With Breanna's input, he'd spoken to Redcliffe's Master of Horses to determine which horse might be a good fit for a first-time rider. The man had sent over three different even-tempered mares, though the roan one was presently giving him a very cross look from her stall and seemed as though she might like very much to chew the braid out of his hair.
Teagan took a step away, his riding coat brushing the back of his legs as he did so. As poor of an idea as it likely he was, he remained unaccompanied--for the moment. One of his knights--and a far more experienced rider than he would ever be--had agreed to ride a good distance behind them. If he was so awful at giving instruction in this, the woman would offer guidance. Coincidentally, she was also present to throw one or both of them over her horse and carry them from the foothills if this all went so terribly that they couldn't get themselves back to civilization.
Teagan dearly hoped that would not be the case.
Not only because it was inconvenient to explain to a healer that you in fact fell off a horse and were not thrown, but because this was an opportunity of sorts. It was a touch sentimental, perhaps, but he'd missed out on... everything. These lessons would finally give him the chance to impart some manner of fatherly wisdom, no matter how shaky.
So he waited at the stables for Breanna, his own chestnut stallion snorting restively outside, his saddlebags containing savory pastries and a few other breakfast items, as well as some oats that Teagan could only assume were for Bastian, not himself or his daughter. He stood tall, back straight, and did his best no to fidget until he saw her crest the small hill that led down from the estate.
"I've given it some thought, and I've decided we should build an airship instead. Much safer. Especially as I know... absolutely nothing about engineering," which would only be a small downgrade from his knowledge about horses.