Marshmallow - Hunter Under Saddle

Holding her pony’s reins loosely, Amy watched with a mixture of amusement and aggravation as her previously pristine mount rolled in the snow in front of her. The grey pony huffed joyously, rolling back and forth from her side to her back with little happy kicks. 

I guess snow is still better than a mud puddle, the young rider thought, looking in dismay at the fleabitten mare whose braided mane was starting to come undone in places.

‘’That’s enough, ‘Mallow. We’re not here to make snow angels,’’ came a voice to Amy’s right. She looked up to see Kass, her riding instructor, as the adult walked past her and took the reins out of her hands. The redhead nudged the misbehaving pony with her lower leg, holding the reins up. Taking the hint, Marshmallow heaved herself back onto her legs, shaking herself with gusto and sending flurries flying all around her. 

Kass took care of leading the mischievous pony back to their trailer, making sure not to let her drop and roll anew. Though Marshmallow did not try again once - walking quietly behind her owner with perky ears in the perfect image of innocence. Once she was tied and distracted by her hay net, Amy toweled the areas where snow had melted into the mare’s coat then armed herself with brushes and patience, starting on making the mare presentable again. She decided to remove whatever braids had survived the ordeal, simply combing out Marshmallow’s long mane and leaving it loose. Once the pony was dry and free of dead grass bits, Amy could saddle her up at last.

*

As her little group of students made their way back to the arena for the Hunter Under Saddle class, Kass made sure to walk alongside Amy and Marshmallow. Sure enough, the pony lowered her head and slowed her steps along the way, clearly intent on repeating her little stunt from earlier if the chance arose.

‘’Not this time!’’ the girl said, raising the hand holding the reins under Marshmallow chin to lift her head back up, picking up the pace. If she resented them for foiling her attempts, Marshmallow did not show it one bit. The mare gave up easily, falling in step with her little handler and seemingly as content as ever. 

All of Kass’ students mounted outside of the arena, awaiting the debut of their next class near the gate. Though a thick layer of clouds still obscured the sun, the chill had let up a little as the hours passed. Rare flurries drifted lazily down, not enough to thicken the thin blanket of snow covering the ground and structures. Amy tugged at her sleeves with a shiver, making sure to cover the sliver of skin between the slight gap of her gloves and coat.

One by one, Amy’s friends and their ponies were called into the arena. The young rider tensed a little despite herself as her name rang out next.

‘’Next up is Amy Ferguson, riding Merry Campfire Songs,’’ the announcer spoke on the arena’s speakers.

Amy squeezed her heels lightly, signaling to Marshmallow it was time to move along.

‘’Good luck,’’ Kass whispered as the pair walked past before entering the ring.

Wreaths of sparkling lights decorated the fencing and posts that surrounded the ring. Fairy lights had also been hung overhead, bathing the arena in soft golden light despite the lack of sunshine. The dozen of youth contestants were walking their ponies around the perimeter of the ring, making sure to leave a safe distance between each of them. A couple of judges stood in the center, sweeping their critical gazes over each horse and rider pair. 

Eyes forward, back straight, shoulders relaxed, elbows close to the body, heels down… Amy enumerated in her head, trying her best to demonstrate proper equitation as they went along the fence. Under her, Marshmallow simply walked on quietly. One of her ears was turned back to point towards Amy, betraying her attentiveness.

‘’Trot your horses, please. Trot your horses,’’ the announcer asked the riders.

With another slight squeeze from her lower leg, Marshmallow quickened the pace and easily fell into the trot. Amy rose and fell in time with her mount’s movements into a posting trot. She glanced down quickly to check whether she was rising on the right diagonal before lifting her gaze back up and forward. 

By Teddy cobs standards, Marshmallow was on the taller side. That simple fact meant that she had a longer stride, moving faster than about half of the other competing ponies. Thus, Amy had to guide the fleabitten mare to the inside whenever they needed to move past a slower Teddy. The pair found a nice rhythm, jogging around the arena a few times until the announcer’s voice rang out on the speakers once again.

‘’Everyone canter your horses, please. Canter.’’

Sitting down in her saddle, Amy moved her outside leg slightly back and pressed in to encourage Marshmallow into the canter. The grey mare accelerated without a fuss, her long mane flowing behind her neck. Amy felt with her seat that her pony was on the correct lead, but still could not resist looking furtively to make sure. 

The chilly wind stirred by their new speed made Amy’s eyes water a bit. The pair made their way along the ring at a collected gallop, weaving around other participants. Now that they were  in the thick of it, the girl’s nerves had quietened a bit.

Soon enough, all riders were asked to slow to the walk and reverse. Then, they were instructed in turn to trot then canter once again, allowing the judges to appraise the horses’ gaits and manners on both sides. 

‘’All riders, please align in the center of the arena’’, called the announcer finally.

Amy guided Marshmallow to the middle of the ring, near where the judges were standing. She stopped the grey mare between two of her friends, the students exchanging nervous but excited looks as they awaited the announcement of the placings.