Equestrian Facility

Mansion

Beach

Horses

Winning A Showline

A Runners Dream

Winston The Ghost

Human

Equine

☆°~Athena Carter~°☆

The drive to the property felt endless, the hum of the truck engine a steady backdrop to Grayson’s racing thoughts. He steals glances at Ryx in the trailer through a little monitor on the dash, his nostrils flaring as he senses the change in scenery. Beside him, his father sits grumpily in the drivers seat. David isn't much of a morning person, so Grayson is glad to know he takes after his mother in this instance. But, parents do anything for their children, and if driving an hour out of their way to ride with friends was the mission, that's what would happen.

It isnt long before the road and drive disappear, and the duo parks in the large lot. He jumps out, taking in the scenery before hurrying to let Ryx out. The gelding steps out of the trailer and onto the ground with a soft thud, his hooves sinking slightly into the freshly groomed gravel. Grayson smiled, running a hand along his sleek neck, whispering soothing words as the pair settle into the scene.

His father appears around the side of the trailer, already hurrying up the steps of the house to greet his friend. Grayson, on the other hand, makes his way towards the stables with Ryx in tow. He pauses at the entrance, his gaze sweeping across the sprawling grounds that lay before him. Though his family had their own slice of heaven, he had to admit the Carters had it much better.

The early morning sun hangs low in the sky, casting a golden glow that filters through the tall oak trees lining the property. The familiar scent of fresh hay hits his nose, mingling with the earthy aroma of horse sweat. He can hear the distant sounds of horses whinnying, the familiar to and fro of stable life. Though not busy, it still had the same nostalgic feeling he loved. He rests a hand reassuringly on the neck of his gelding, who now fidgets with his lead rope. He allows the horse to stretch his nose out and smell the air as Grayson looks around.

Ryx nudges him with his nose, the gelding's big brown eyes full curiosity. Grayson offers a pat, tugging him along towards the entrance. They had been through so much together—triumphs and setbacks alike. He searches around for Athena. She was supposed to be the daughter, a fellow equestrian. Though the pair were familiar, almost friends mostly through the conpetive circuits, he had to admit he didn't know much about her at all. He wanders the barn, Ryx plodding happily beside him, as he explores.

☆°~Athena Carter~°☆

Grayson stands in the barn aisle, taking a deep breath of the familiar scents and sounds, the strangeness of being in a new barn with hee ruled and new expectations. Though he’s visited the Carters often, each time feels like a new adventure.

He greets Athena in return, offering a warm handshake and a kind smile, "Thank you. I'm super excited, you guys have the best place around."

He glances at the stall assigned to him, noting its prime location near the center of the barn. It feels welcoming, a place where he can watch the hustle and bustle around him while also having a little sanctuary for himself and his horse. He steps forward, pushing open the sturdy door and peering inside. The straw is fresh, and he can already envision how it will feel to spend time here. He leads the gelding in, Ryx immediately dropping his head to shuffle the hay and explore the spacious stall. He chuckles softly, removing the shipping boots and blanket to reveal the gelding's striking coat and unbuckles the halter for the horse to have his own time.

Grayson returns to the truck and trailer, retrieving his saddle and gear from the built in tack area and back seat of the dually.. He carefully carries the items, feeling the weight of the saddle settle comfortably on his hip as he makes his way back through the elegant barn and to the tack room. The tack room is a treasure trove of memories, each piece of equipment holding a story. He knows how much care the Carters put into their horses and their gear, and he admires the meticulous organization and stunning aura of the place. Everything is cleaned and polished, so it's easy to find in bold engraving the number on the locker that matches his horse's stall number. A couple more trips and everything is officially unloaded, from tack to feed snd grooming. Though it's a longer stay, it is temporary just until their own property is back up and running.

As he walks back to his stall, feed bucket and grooming box in hand, he can’t help but feel a twinge of nervousness. He wants to make a good impression, to prove that he’s worthy of the trust they’ve placed in him to ride here. Setting the bucket in the stall, he glances down the aisle, taking in the other horses as he fights off the gelding pushing his head towards the bucket. With a determined nod, Grayson begins to groom his horse. He retrieves brushes from his tack box, each stroke bringing a sense of calm. It's rhytmic, calming, and he enjoys the quiet the barn provides.

Once he finishes grooming, he slips from the stall to return his stuff to the locker. There is a familiarity to the routine, even if he isn't at home. He stops back by the geldings stall, peeking to make sure everything is fine before wandering off to explore the grounds.

☆°~Athena Carter~°☆

"Mmmhm, no problem at all. We hope you have a good time riding and competing here."

She said, her voice curt, but not unkind to the male.

She glanced back to Gyspy. She didn't seem too dirty. Athena began humming a song to herself, singing the lyrics in her mind as she brushed off Gyspy for the day. The buckskin stood still, letting her owner brush at her skin, cleaning her for the day. Gypsy always loved jumping and her dressage.

Athena finished brushing the mare after a few minutes, setting the brush aside and turning, slipping the sky blue pad out from under Gypsy's saddle. She gripped it between her fingers and turned, throwing it onto the mares bck gently, tugging it up and adjusting it on her back. She turned back around, grabbing the English saddle and doing the same, adjusting it on her back gently. She ducked her head, bending down to grab the girth and pulling it back up with her. She tightened it on her side, but only enough to keep the saddle on. Not riding tight yet. She sighed, shifting and grabbing Gypsy's bridle. She moved to the buckskins head, slowly undoing the sky blue, rope halter, and switching it out with the black bridle. Gypsy accepted the bit and she made sure it was seated comfortably in her mouth. She reached up the mares head, fastening the straps to secure the bridle. She dropped the crossties and halter to one side, gathering Gypsy's reins in one hand.

Athena lead Gypsy away from the crossties and down the aisle, bringing her to stop infront of the lockers. She opened hers, grabbing her helmet, riding gloves, and spurs before closing the locker door and asking Gypsy to follow her. They walked out of the barn, heading towards the arena. She stepped inside the sanded area, glancing around the open arena. She could use the roofed arena, but it was a chilly day out today. And the sun wasn't burning down at her. She asked Gypsy to halt and flipped the reins over her neck, resting them on the saddle. She tugged on her gloves and helmet, holding the spurs against her forearm. Gypsy shifted impatiently. She reached down, tightening the girth to be fit for riding. She hummed, straightening and patting Gypsy's neck.

"There we go..."

Athena murmured to the buckskin, shifting her weight and gripping the saddle, shoving a foot into the stirrups and pulling herself up, quickly balancing her weight on the mares back. She shifted her feet, putting on her spurs and then dropping her legs down, setting them in the stirrups. She gathered her reins and sighed.

"Alright, hon... Let's warm-up."

She announced quietly, clicking Gypsy to a walk and beginning a walk lap around the arena. She would have to put up jumps, but that could be done after warm-up.

Grayson gives a polite nod, the corners of his mouth lifting just enough to acknowledge Athena’s words without inviting more. Her tone is clipped but not unkind, a familiar balance they’ve both mastered over the years. Their parents may be close friends, sharing decades in the equestrian world and a hundred show grounds between them, but that closeness has never extended to their children. He and Athena exist in the same orbit, but they do not collide. Not unless it’s in the ring, and even then, it’s behind years of training and perfected smiles

He turns away as she leads her horse down the aisle, his attention returning to the stall behind him. Ryx greets him with a gentle nudge to the shoulder, as if reminding him to stay grounded. The gelding is already settling in, ears flicking forward, the early tension of travel worn off. Grayson runs a hand along the horse’s shoulder and steps back, glancing around the barn.

His own is still a mess of sawdust and scaffolding, left in crumbled after a large storm tore down a tree which collided with his barn. It is a full-blown renovation. For now, it’s barely functional, with horses relocated, equipment packed into temporary sheds, and his routine scattered. Staying here, at the Carters’ barn, isn’t just convenience—it’s necessary. At least here, things are structured. Clean. Predictable.

And then there’s Jason Salvadore. The idea of working under an ex-Grand Prix rider still feels surreal, even after nearly being at that same level. Grayson had admired him from a distance for years, watching replays of his rounds like they were study material, aiming himself since his youth to be just like his hero. Now, Jason’s name is on the schedule next to his, and it still hasn’t quite settled in. Grayson tells himself to stay focused, to earn the time he’s being given here, and to make it count.

With Ryx comfortable and the gear stowed, Grayson shoves his gloves into his back pocket and steps outside the barn. The afternoon light filters through the treetops, casting golden shapes over the gravel paths. He walks slowly, letting his boots carry him across the property, past the pastures and back arenas. The layout is familiar in pieces—he’s visited enough times to know the general flow—but this is the first time he’s walked it as a temporary resident. He takes in every detail: where the hoses coil, which gates stick, the worn paths that shortcut through the trees to the far ring.

Eventually, he circles back toward the main arena. From a distance, he spots Athena again, still mounted, Gypsy just beginning to stretch into a cool-down trot. The jumps are still set, and he can tell by the spacing and height that it had been a serious session. He lingers near the fence without meaning to, his gaze drawn to the way she moves in the saddle.

Athena is focused, her posture unwavering, legs still and hands soft. She rides with the kind of control that looks effortless, every aid subtle but exact. Gypsy moves beneath her with fluid ease, each stride measured, collected, and completely in tune with her rider. It’s like watching a song unfold, each beat of the trot matching some invisible rhythm they share. There’s no hesitation, no correction needed. They speak the same language, and it’s quiet, fluent, and automatic.

He wasn't sure if she took their competition as seriously as him, if she even truly urged herself to keep matching with him, if she relied on this as heavily to make it break her life like he does. Grayson watches for a moment longer before turning away.