Ach, that hurts. Roli rolled one shoulder experimentally, wincing as the muscles sparked in protest. From a few inches above her head came a concerned whuffle and she sighed as Major’s large grey nose entered her field of vision. Slobbery kisses from the barns favorite delinquent equine were a fitting end to one of the worst training rides she’d ever been on.
“Hey, Rip Van Winkle, up an at’em!” Tanner had reined Midnight in as soon as Roli had fallen, but the rangy gelding was starting to fidget in boredom. Roli glared up at him from the soft, if damp, puddle of mud she had landed in. It had been one of her better falls, more of a slow tumble over his head rather than the normal fast jerk to the side. She sighed and clambered to her feet. It was going to be a long ride back.