Alexis struggled with her homework, fighting to get back into the swing of things after Ibiza. They were past the midterms, and everything was getting harder, building toward the end of the semester. Davian helped, where he could, but he wouldn’t cheat for her.
Alexis pushed her laptop away in frustration, not caring that the machine slid off her bed and clattered to the floor. Her books on Milton followed, flopping to the ground like dead birds. It was only a five-page paper on the themes in Paradise Lost but it might as well been twenty for all the progress she was making. She couldn’t focus; her mind was going a million directions.
*Go riding.* As always, her brother’s suggestion made sense, and Alexis nodded. Riding Bitty should calm her down.
A short flight took her to the stable that her horse was boarded in, and Alexis felt both better and worse immediately. The smell of horses cut straight through her anxiety and stress, while simultaneously reminding her of the last time she had been riding, in the Catskills. She worked to shake it off, not wanting to think about Destiny right now.
Bitty’s stall was in the first wing, on the left, and Alexis was already smiling by the time she had reached the door. Bitter Summer Wind, Bitty for short, was waiting for her, her small muzzle buried in her hay. But the mare left the food when Alexis called to her, lifting her head over the half-open door.
“Hey, sweetie,” Alexis murmured, rubbing the stripe of white that ran down the mare’s cinnamon brown face. Bitty snuffled a couple of times, then quietly accepted the affection.
Alexis took a long moment to just pet her horse; all too soon Bitty had pulled back from her, shaking her head and trembling with anticipation. “It has been a bit, hasn’t it?” Alexis chuckled, reaching for the lead rope hanging by the door. She opened the door, looped it around the mare’s neck and led her out into the aisle. The arena was empty and Alexis turned her loose in the open area.
Bitty took off at a fast trot, working off some of her pent up energy. Alexis leaned against the fence and watched her horse, her eyes following Bitty’s legs, noting way her tail rose like a flag and smiling at the proud arch in her Arabian’s neck. After watching for a moment, Alexis turned back to the stall and started to work. Bitty’s straw needed changing, as did her bucket of water. Alexis even hosed down the walls and the mats that were under the straw, washing the dirt and worse down the drain in the hall.
Alexis retrieved the mare from the arena; it took a little bit of time, as Bitty decided to play tag by letting Alexis touch her before dashing away. Alexis played patiently, knowing that each jump, twist and dash was calming down the high-strung horse. Finally, the mare allowed Alexis to catch her, a pleased look in her dark eyes.
Arabians were the most cat-like of the horse breeds – tending toward individuality and pickiness. Alexis had owned this lady since she was a yearling, and she knew her horse well – which leg to start with when she cleaned her hooves, and what to hum for Bitty. It helped that Alexis was thoroughly grooming her; Bitty loved the care and attention and would stand still for it like few other things. Her farrier had nightmares about coming to care for her hooves, and only did it because Alexis had agreed to pay a ridiculous sum for his services.
After the grooming came more work, but this time it was for both of them. Alexis quickly saddled and bridled the mare, patient even as Bitty put up a token fight with her.
Once she had the mare settled, she led her into the arena, mounted and put in her ear plugs. Hitting play on her player, Alexis sighed through her nose as the first soft chords of Crisoifori’s Dream rang gently in her ears. Her heels tightened around Bitty’s sides, and the mare began to walk.
Most people watching would have just assumed that the mare was just walking. But in the art of Dressage, there was no such thing as just walking. Bitty was doing a collected walk, which required more balance and finesse. From there, Alexis did the first gait change, and the two settled into working.
Dressage made the horse and rider one, when done right, and soon Bitty was “dancing” to the music that Alexis was hearing. Their movements stopped being about working and became about combining with the music. Alexis stopped thinking about what she was doing and started just doing. And Alexis’ mind began to slip to other places, wandering where ever it felt like going.
Bitty was working in a circle, moving slowly into a pirouette and Alexis was thinking about Diamande, and how cruel everyone had been to her. Bitty’s circle became tighter, and Alexis was thinking about Odysseus, though not in a way that would have made the nova puff up like a rooster, head-strong and cock-sure. Bitty moved into the pirouette, while her rider thought about Destiny, whose full name Alexis never got and who had disappeared back into the inner city of New York so quietly.
Something splattered to her glove, and Alexis glanced down, surprised to see a drop of water on her glove. She started to look up for the leak, but another drop of water hit her arm and she realized her face was wet.
She was crying.
Alexis couldn’t say why she was crying, only that tears poured down her face. A hasty glance told her she was still alone, so the proud nova did something she never allowed herself: crying in public. She leaned forward and pressed her face into her horse’s neck and let Bitty walk in wide circles while she sobbed into her flaxen mane, for no reason whatsoever.
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