Welcome to Hickstead, home to both Seven Oak Stables, and Blue Acre - two rival stables. Both offer opportunities for their clients to reach the highest level of excellence. Each stable differs from the other, so choose wisely and never forget, loyalty is everything... Meanwhile as the stables battle it out, there's trouble brewing at the university. Be careful, if you don't pick a side you may get caught in the cross-fire...
This is an chilled out rpg with a super friendly and relaxed atmosphere! Remember to sign up with your characters full name in all caps and don't forget to do your claims! Thank you and Welcome, we've been established since 10th March 2009 but unfortunately have had to close guest view of our boards due to multiple sites ripping off our hard work, such a shame! Come chat to us in Discord before joining if you like!.
Parkour's mind was not on track, not by a long stick - his rider a forgone memory in the wake of all consuming panic. The cues didn't even flicker across his mind, all absence of training like he was a green colt without any sense in his head. His eyes went wide, whites clear as day as he bolted, hollering his panic.
The check on the bit barely touched him, his mouth numb from poor riding beyond his rider's control - something that should've checked him quickly surving to only bring his head up in a rough jerking motion as he ran. He kept moving, his ears back against his neck, a thick sweat beginning to build and lather. Where did he go? Have to get away... where is my rider?
The sudden pull on the bit was shocking and abrupt, earning a pained squeal as his head was yanked back in against his neck. His eye caught the movement of the dogs, the pain briefly forgotten. Still running... his thoughts were disconnected, panic, pain, fear - all mixed. He was forced to circle, still trying to gallop and side step the animals barking at him, throwing in poorly timed buck into the mix... he kept moving, forced to cirlce - where to go? Dogs, barking, a bitter copper taste on his tongue, run...
There was a yelp and squeal from a dog, getting right under his hooves, side stepping... a foreleg slipped under him, his head shooting up as he flailed to get his footing but he was too gone in the panicky running turn he was locked into. He hit the ground hard, down on his shoulder followed by the rest of him with a thud, flailing to get back up.
Parkour's neck gave a slight shudder under the man's hand, ears flicking quickly as he was given that reassurance. He danced a little, walking sideways a few paces before he jerked himself to a stop and turned his head again, his whole frame tense. Those barks were awful close, earning a slightly shaky snort.
And then they were there, barking. Parkour forgot all manners, all sense - even his rider, as the dogs ran towards him. He launched up and forward with a shrill neigh, bolting like there was hell on his heels. Eyes wild and wide, Parkour could only run, there was no standing and fighting. Tossing his head, shrieking like someone was actively hurting him. But he kept going, no idea on where he was going.
Parkour was only a little over-eager at the side of the block, moving off as soon as his rider was in the saddle and not a second longer was he going to stand about. He gave a tiny hop, nothing more than a peppy bounce in his step that proved his energy levels. Perhaps it was the weather, or perhaps the feed a little more rich for him, but whatever it was, his need to go was vast.
But the fact he was going outside of the arena?! Parkour lifted his head a little higher now, ears fully alert as he all but skipped on his way, not completely out of control, just excited. He wanted to go, but the distant sound of dogs caught his ear. He halted and turned his head, listening as he chewed on his bit and snorted loudly. It was a small amount of worry in the actions he took, but he turned away from the noise and began the other way, meandering now without River's prompting.
"Seems like you're settling into the yard nicely, boy. No one's uttered a complaint about you in these last few weeks."
"Although I don't think my mare likes me hanging out with you all the time. Maybe one day you'll meet her without Raven trying to murder you or...I guess, you not wanting to mount her."
"Figure we might change it up today. Go on a hack. Maybe check on the cross country course as well. I'm sure you're getting bored of the arena and flat work. I know you're destined for more than that. We both are." And the man was determined to make it happen, "What do you say to that? Eh Parkour?"
Parkour stood still, looking almost half asleep with his lower lip completely relaxed. Whatever was being said was lost on him as he stood there - he had been well behaved; he hadn't kicked up too many fights, hadn't battered the other horses in the pasture with him, hadn't tried to escape to reach the ladies in pastures over. If anything, the most noted thing was somehow getting his head stuck inside of a hay bag the week before in vain efforts to get the last pieces from the corners. But he perked and twisted slightly as the hard brush scrubbed at a spot on his side he hadn't known was delightfully itchy and needed the scratching it was getting. He moved into the brush, his upper lip wiggling as the itch was scratched. Snorting loudly, he tossed his head up and down as far as the ties would allow him, giving a few brief hops.
The itch woke him up proper, suddenly reminded of unused energy. He had energy to spare, to let free and he wanted to go now.
The offering of black jelly beans were very welcome in his eyes, a most substaintial reward for having to approach. He snorted, content to finish his treat and once the halter went on, it was like another mentallity engaged him - the sort that made sure he kept his shit together, to listen. And he was good at that, and getting better. Sure there was the odd moment where he pulled up to look at something or respond to another horse's call somewhere he couldn't see. But those moments were getting to be fewer and fewer by the week - the halter going on meant it was time to pay attention, that he was going to work.
And he liked to work, there was no doubts about that. But the constant flat work, the simple trot poles and being asked to collect his steps were fast approaching boring, and Parkour had an itch. He had been over all, very good since his arrival to the stables - he hadn't gone too crazy or out of hand, and had yet to eject his rider from his saddle. All in all, he was doing well and even by his own mind, was being very good. He didn't jump when the gate shut, and he kept his head low, following at the same pace of his human. Even upon entering the stables, he was polite enough and didn't so much as glance at horses that were stabled or out by their stalls, he just kept his head all the way to the ties and stood still, automatically moving into a relaxed position as he waited to be fussed over.
Parkour grazed idly away from the rest of the stallions in the pasture, not the slightest bit phased or really bothered by them. He'd established himself in the pecking order, and whilst not the highest amongst them, he still held his own and more than once caused something of a fuss when simple hollering turned almost full-blown into war where both sides had dealt their share of damage before being separated.
Even so, he was much more settled in, and he still made a fuss when particular individuals were led to or from the pasture when he paid attention. Being in work mellowed him slightly. And with his condition vastly improved, he was always seemingly brimming with energy to spare now. That said, when the whistle came, he acknowledged it with a brief glance - pausing mid chew to see who was calling. Of course, his new human. Lazily, he turned to face the man and snorted, not seeing an incentive to actually move towards him quickly. So he meandered, head low, picking at grass as he went. The sun was nice on his back and the flies weren't too terrible, his mood was great.
He sashayed over before he reached his head over the gate and immediately pushed his nose about the man, seeking a treat of some kind for the effort he'd taken to come over. His grazing and lounging interrupted.
show name • The Parkour Demon stable name • Park, Parker age • Nine breed • Swedish Warmblood height • 16.3hh discipline • Show Jumping, Cross-Country - Minor Dressage gender • Stallion
the appearance
identifying features• A striking irregular blaze, as well as a unique Back Right leg marking. Has a faint scar on his right cheek.
the personality
likes • Black Jelly Beans, Jumping - will jump anything, Ear and Jaw scratches, Swimming, Farriers [likes to lean on them], water - will try to eat the hose! dislikes • Going Slow, Riding Spurs, Stiff Riders, Other Stallions, Geldings, Small Animals and Children strengths • Bold Jumper, Nimble weaknesses • Hard-Mouthed, Doesn't like Change fears • Dogs, Water-Jumps, Whips overall personality • Park is generally a chilled out stud who has decent ground manners and understanding of space around people. Though he is a bit mouthy and has bitten people before. Aside from his nibbling tendencies, Park is not malicious or violent, and if he does turn, its usually out of reaction to something that offends him - a hard voice or unnecessary force on his part. He is generally easy to control and bring under control, rarely wild from moment to moment, unless there is a lady around - then he's all but deaf to reason, so rider beware. He's a leading horse and will assert himself to no end. He's also a bit of a goof, getting himself into situations that defy general logic.
the history
owner • RIVER ARLO BLOOM father • Unknown mother • Unknown siblings • Likely Many overall history • Park was born in Sweden to a renowned stud, an impatient colt who was immediately trying to get up after touching the ground. All throughout his growth on the stud, he was aptly called 'Parkour' as he would jump over his dam, over field toys and buckets - anything in his way, he jumped. He had a natural affinity for it, which was further proven when he jumped himself out of a stall at the age of three.
He was started in hand for a time before he was bought to continue training with a professional. Parkour's schooling was smooth and easy for the young stud, even when he was taken out into the world of competition. He was ridden by an up and coming young lady called Larissa Carsonette, getting him to excel in the world of jumps.
Over the years he got better and better, aging and maturing like fine wine. Trophies and ribbons, ample love and time saw Parkour do wonderfully, but at the age of seven this took a turn. A dog escaped a local yard and had made it onto the course during Park's turn. The stallion was urged forward with hard spurs to his sides but he still side-stepped and turned heel to run away. Wild with fright, he surged a jump that required his rider's hand and guidance, which led him to miscue and hit the jump chest first and sent his rider crashing over head.
He was lucky to escape with mild scratches and muscle bruising, but his rider was far worse off with a broken collar bone and arm. He was given rest, and when he was allowed to go back to work, he was given to another rider - a much rougher man who set him full throttle over jumps and made sure he brought the stallion back lathered in sweat. Parkour took an unexpected slip in a water jump on a practice course and his rider snatched up the reins and went into a rage, lashing out at Parkour with his riding crop.
Parkour was sold off some time later, exchanging hands several times until coming to rest in Hickstead after he was passed on over to the sale yards - too strong and nippy for a young rider. Now kept at the yards, Parkour has not caused anyone any issues, and whilst on the thinner and less athletic side of the size scale, is still quite healthy and ready to work. And perhaps with time and the right hands, he will come back into his glory.
Note - Needs Upper Door of his Stall SHUT! Will Jump out if left open!
the role player
alias • BlackJack, Jac age • Mid 20s other characters • So many... 43
