Chapter Text
For a “heated observation area,” it’s not actually all that warm.
Not bitterly cold, but cold enough she needs to stay bundled up. At least it’s a good excuse to wear the hat that Suzie crocheted her. It was cute, honestly, both the combination hat-and-scarf and the way Suzie gave it to her, scissors in hand to cut off the pom-pom attached to the top. Just in case it was a bridge too far. Sure, it wasn’t her usual style, but who is she if not someone who would do anything for a pretty girl with a beautiful laugh? And because it was a gift from someone she cared about. And because, deep down, she did actually find it charming.
Abby stands up and rubs her hands together. She walks over to the window and peers down into the arena proper. Someone’s standing in the middle and giving directions. Honestly, a lot of these jumps look pretty identical to her, but she suspects it’s mostly that she doesn’t quite get the nuances. Not for lack of trying, just for lack of experience.
This rider seems to be taking the same triplet of obstacles again. That seems to be the overall goal. They go through a part of the course, the instructor gives some kind of direction she doesn’t understand, and they repeat. This attempt at the set looked different, and she thinks it’s related to the directions. Okay, well, it’s obviously related to the directions, she’s just not sure which part yet. It doesn’t help that the sound system isn’t great, so she can’t really hear what’s going on that well.
She can hear numbers, talking about transitions, and something that she thinks is about controlling the turning, but it’s entirely going over her head. She doesn’t understand the vocabulary here.
She does understand tempo. Even if her old choir director disagreed.
It starts with her counting the number of… steps feels like the wrong word, but it’s the one she’s got. One-two-three-four-five-jump, one-two-three-four-five-six-jump. The horse looked like it was moving about the same speed, so the second distance is larger. She’s never been particularly good at judging distances in her head. She watches as they come around again, take the obstacles at the same speed and—oof—knock off the top of one of the barriers. The instructor resets it, and they try again. One-two-three-four-five-jump, one-two-three-four-five-six-jump. Okay, so it’s about control? Judging distances? Hm.
She could ask Suzie, and she probably will, but it’s kind of fun to try to figure it out on the spot.
But Suzie and Daisy Bell are coming out, and her attention shifts. Or, rather, it expands to include her girlfriend. And, as she mostly-jokes, her girlfriend’s “true love.” Suzie seems to have a word with the instructor, then starts to take the course. Abby follows as best she can, at least trying to get a baseline. There’s something about Suzie in her element. She focuses more, becomes more confident, more determined.
It’s after a couple of runs of the course—she thinks that’s the right terminology—when they approach the same obstacles. She’s getting more used to feeling the tempo, getting a sense of the ebb and flow. So she’s not too surprised when they take the “line,” she overheard someone else in the room call it, in five and six… steps? Beats? She’s going with beats for now. She figures it’s a consistency exercise. She thinks she can make out something about shortening, and the pair approach again. One-two-three-four-five—hm? Six, then jump, then another six. The tempo doesn’t change much, but they seem to fit another beat in the same amount of space. Which doesn’t make a ton of sense, but it’s the analogy she’s got. They reapproach, and this time it’s the five and six she’s seen. Then, five and seven. She half-hears a note about “pace,” and the variations continue.
Hmm. I need more information. Suzie and Daisy Bell are starting to leave and—oh, wow, those twenty minutes really flew by—and she turns her attention back to the arena. The next pair are approaching, and she sees mostly the same routine. This horse seems a little more skittish, and the rhythm is a bit off. But she still finds a count of five and a count of six when they come to the line that seems to be the theme of the morning.
She doesn’t quite notice Suzie until she’s right next to her, helmet by her side, hair a mess. “Thanks for waiting.” Abby starts and turns to face her, the clock coming into view. When did it get to be 12:45? It was just eleven. “Sorry that took so long, took a bit longer to cool her down than I expected.” She lets out a breath. “Steven wanted to catch up, but I can send an email, you’ve been waiting long enough.” She takes Abby’s hand and starts to head toward the exit.
Abby doesn’t move. Suzie turns back to her and furrows her brow.
Abby’s still looking out the window, at whoever’s there taking the same line. “Everyone here is doing five beats, then six. But you did six and six, and five and seven, and five and six. Why?”
“Oh, they’re still learning to keep an even canter, getting five and six consistently, not panicking and changing everything at the last second,” she answers without thinking. “I’ve been doing this for…” She realizes what she’s saying and trails off.
And she smiles softly. “I’ve been doing this for long enough that just getting the number isn’t much of an exercise. So I was working on adjusting the number of strides through the line.”
“Mmm, strides. Not beats. Got it. Okay. And ‘canter’? I think I heard that over the speakers too, but not quite sure what it actually is.”
Suzie steps back up to the window. Her smile is brighter.