~ WTS 05 ~ Triple Trouble

“You…” Anne was furious. “You didn’t do that. You -”
“I’m sorry, please - let me explain -”
“Explain? There’s nothing to explain. You bought three horses off your own bat!”
“Two horses and a pony-”
“Whatever!”
Anne’s voice was trembling with excitement, and threatening to break. Andrew frowned, lifting his hands in defence. “It’s… exactly what you would’ve done,” he said. “Back then. Remember: Everyone deserves a second chance, you said - horse and human alike.” Andrew looked to the ground, clearly not satisfied with how this was turning out. “These three desperately needed a second chance, and I offered it to them! It’s what we do at the Waving Tree, you said that yourself!”

Anne was defeated. A lump was forming in her throat and she faltered; gazing at the horses in the paddock with disbelief. The trio consisted of a very tall black horse with some minimal markings, a ragged pony with a white face and a liver chestnut that seemed almost black in the shadow, his height giving no clue about if he was to be considered pony or horse. All of them seriously lacked muscle and none had hooves that looked near acceptable. It was true - back then she would have rescued horses like that without batting an eye. Yet; she knew very well what Andrew was up to, and a part inside her still struggled against that.

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Nana was watching the little group of horses on their separate paddock with blatant interest. It was crazy, how the Waving Tree had changed, and still was changing in a relatively small amount of time: it was roughly two months since she’d returned to the stud, and she still didn’t get her head around quite a lot of things. On the other hand, she clearly enjoyed every moment. She was living with Anne and Andrew now, officially employed as a voluntary stablehand but living as if she was a family member, which she enjoyed greatly. Living and working on a stud had always been a dream of hers - and as long as her meagre savings helped her getting by, she had no intention of changing it.

In those two months, she’d learned a lot about what kept the stud together, all the financial matters and things she’d never realised these years ago, when riding at the Waving Tree had only been a fun thing to do with her friends. The stud had always been there, the horses fed, the stables clean - but now she realised how close all this was to collapse. She learned that Anne had about three ways of gaining money: First, the Waving Tree still was a horse sanctuary and a registered association that was permitted to receive donations; which they actually still got from somewhere. There even was a bunch of old horses left, amongst other animals, like donkeys and also a goat. Whoever was giving them a little to manage she didn’t know exactly; she only knew that the Waving Tree indeed did have a small number of supporters somewhere.
Into that tied the second way of getting money: giving private persons the opportunity to “adopt” and sponsor one of these animals. It gave them the right to see it whenever they wanted, even interact with them under supervision; but not even a handful actually put it to use.

More profitable was the third option. Nana remembered how she’d always seen horses come and go, horses she’d never seen before; sometimes, Anne rode them herself, or she gave their riders a private lesson. Nana knew the stud’s owner was a renowned showjumper and showjumping trainer for horses and riders alike, so it was only convenient that she made use of her position to give expensive lessons to riders who thought their prized animal was just another problem horse. In most cases, Anne could only tell them that of course their horse wouldn’t jump if they stuffed its mouth with sharp bits and then hung on the reins for dear life.

Of course it wasn’t always that bad.
But things could be easier. Often enough, Anne didn’t feel strong enough to get her work done - to deal with a problematic horse or rider - sometimes, she didn’t come out of the house for a whole day, making it very difficult for everyone else to keep the stable orderly. Andrew, running out of patience, had urged her to go and see a doctor - and Anne had straightaway been diagnosed with a mild depression. Reluctantly, she’d started with therapy. Nonetheless, that meant that her activity at the stable decreased further. Andrew did his best to replace her, but he’d just started his career as a riding instructor and he was lacking the immense experience that Anne had. Long story short; they all did their best and tried to keep the stable together, even if it meant downsizing the sanctuary and focusing on the riding and teaching.

That was when Andrew’s old idea had come into play. He’d told Nana how he still dreamed about having a little riding school at the Waving Tree, a bunch of kids, a herd of silly ponies on the pasture, fun lessons and hacks with a group of laughing young people. “Just when we all were children ourselves, imagine,” he said.
“But we didn’t have a herd of ponies back then,” Nana grinned. “Only warmbloods that nobody wanted and who turned out to be quite amazing sporthorses, so everyone was like ‘oops - shouldn’t have gotten rid of that one!’”
“I know! - But imagine, we could have that again! I’ve found three horses in need of a new purpose in life; two horses and a pony, to be exact. If you’re going to help me, we’re making this dream come true. We’re bringing the past back to the stud. Is anything going to cheer Anne up more than that?”
Nana was unsure; regardless what they tried, they would never bring the past back, and they all believed that was what Anne regretted most. But she understood what he meant; and so she eagerly nodded when he asked her if he could count on her help.

Getting the horses turned out to be quite the cloak-and-dagger-operation; but it worked out, and Anne only found out about it when the trailer arrived on the stud and the two schemers
But as they’d bought the animals from their own savings - even Nana had given a fair amount voluntarily - Anne ended up unable to say anything against it, and the horses were allowed to stay.

Nana was to try them out the following day.
The girl was eager to get on their backs; curious to see if the purchase had been successful. The black one was first, a lanky gelding named Cepheus whom everyone just called “C” from the first day on. He seemed to have some Arabian blood in his veins, but was actually a very sweet creature - a warmblood cross, but nobody really knew what breeds he was made of. A Freiberger was somewhere in there, adding a nice roundness to his barrel, apart from that he was only bony legs and a long, long neck. Nana found out he tended to stumble over his own legs and there was a stiffness in his back that they had to get rid off, but all in all she determined he could be a nice school horse one day. He was sweet and actually eager to work, and definitely a pleasure to be around.

The flaxen chestnut pony, Queenie Eye, everyone liked instantly. She was fat and swaybacked - making it look like the mass of her belly actually bended the backbone with its weight. Nana felt a little too tall when she sat on the little mare, but Queenie was strong, and carried her around with flat and hurried steps and her head held high.
The light chestnut was named a “German Riding Pony” - but apparently, she had both Welsh and Hucul blood in her veins. A Connemara was in there, as well as various other mixes - backyard breeding at its best, but at least they had kept a nice record.
Queenie was not the nicest pony to look at: she had muscles in the wrong places and none where she should have them. Nonetheless, she was stubborn and frustrating to ride, and both agreed that no quality was more desirable in a school horse than the ability to be a complete pighead, so she would stay.

The last one was called Babbitt. He was very thin as he stepped out of the trailer, his dark brown fur matted and dull. And he certainly wasn’t in the best mood. Almost immediately, he snapped at Andrew, who led him down the ramp, before he pulled away, ears pressed flat on his head. Nana didn’t expect much as she saddled him. He seemed weak, so she planned to ride him for about ten minutes before she called it quits.
Much to her surprise, though, the tiny horse literally exploded below her as soon as she’d lowered her behind into the saddle, and Nana had a hard time holding him back. Where does he take this power from? she wondered as she pulled him into a little circle and sat deep into the saddle to calm him down.
The black chestnut was surprisingly well ridden. He was not quite as unwilling to bend, but his gaits and musculature were poor, and he was incredibly lazy. Nana found he was the one with the least potential: he was not very well behaved, very nervous and not as sweet in dealing with as C was. Yet, she readily saw in him the school horse he could become one day, and told Andrew she’d like him to stay as well. His pedigree was largely unknown; they only knew that his mother had been a Holstein mare, the rest wasn’t listed. Officially, he was a German Riding Pony as well, but with a height of almost 150 cm, he slightly exceeded the maximal height of what was allowed for a pony.

Andrew, on the other hand, loved them all equally. Anne might not like it, he thought, but here was he, one step closer to his dream. A dream that he vindicated by the noble aim of finally bringing laughter back to the Waving Tree, and a smile to Anne’s lips.

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You don't have to read the last two chapters about Jack and Makena, if you only want to follow the Waving Tree's direct storyline (that you can find in its own folder, as linked above.) On a side note, is the navigation easy to work with? Is everything accessible? Feedback is much appreciated. c:  

But yeah, now I can move on to what happened in the autumn of 2016 *sweats nervously* I am so behind I didn't think that aaaaaaaaa. I'm trying to catch up, as long as I still have time; good thing I wrote this whole thing yesterday night. Hope is not in vain XD
ANYWAY - BABBITT, QUEENIE AND C ARE HERE!! AAAA
They will probably never get reference sheets. XD

Art, written art, characters (c) by me, no ref used
DIN A5 pencil sketch, coloured with PS

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