[attr="class","alexsinclairHeader"]

Cause I'm in a field of dandelions wishing on every one that

you'd be mine

[attr="class","alexsinclairPost"]

A now cold coffee in one hand, multiple packets of different treats in the other, and a rope halter and lead wrapped haphazardly around their neck, A hummed softly under their breath as they strolled through the store. Boo had once again somehow eaten all the treats A had bought the previous week in record time, and while someone else would consider cutting back on how many treats to hand out, A simply decided to go out and buy more. But healthier ones, Boo didn't need to put on any more weight than he already carried.
[break][break]
Reaching for another treat packet at the end of the aisle A stilled, noticing a taller man from the corner of his eye. The figure was unmistakably Charles. They had yet to have a proper conversation since A transferred from Whittemore to Sweetridge, or even really run into each other. Was that on purpose from A's point of view? Most definitely.
[break][break]
A quietly grabbed the packet, slowly pulling their hand back and sidestepping in the opposite direction from Charles, hoping that they hadn't been spotted and could make a quick and easy escape.



Edited the post to add in my new table

[attr="class","runruncirc"]

[attr="class","runrunimg"]

[attr="class","runrunlyric"]
dreaming of[break]black & white

[attr="class","runrunpost"]



Several colourful packages decorated the shelf in front of him, all advertising various treats. This one was good for gut health! And this one was good for older horses who struggled with chewing. Big letters shouted their flavours and just how much horses preferred that one over the other brands. And look a vet certified it so it had to be true! Charles rolled his eyes. He was not one for treats, of the firm belief that treats ruined good horses because when they were expected, horses stopped paying attention and would just crowd you for cookies. Which was unacceptable, and dangerous.
[break][break]
A pale hand grabbed a package of treats and slowly retreated from the corner of his vision. Charles turned and saw A, a former rider at Whittemore. A traitor since they'd left to go ride at his sibling's "happy" stables instead. His lips turned down in a frown. It was beyond his understanding why anyone would actually want to ride at that no-good dump over Whittemore. What did they offer their clients that he himself didn't have? What was so special about their barn when it was clearly of lower quality and care than his?
[break][break]
Eyes narrowing slightly, he addressed the rider. "Boo is wasted on someone like you," he said. There was no love lost on him, viewing anyone who didn't value success and the drive to win, or the loyalty to stay with him when his sibling had founded their own stables, as incompetent or worse, as plain stupid. "But I suppose you never were good enough to compete under Whittemore's name."

[attr="class","runruntag"]#Alexander Sinclair

[attr="class","runruncirc2"]

[attr="class","alexsinclairHeader"]

Cause I'm in a field of dandelions wishing on every one that

you'd be mine

[attr="class","alexsinclairPost"]

Charles' immediate frown brought upon a somewhat deer-in-headlights look on A's face, their grip tightening on both the coffee cup and treat packets. It seemed the man still held onto some sort of grudge, but who could blame him. A felt a small twinge of regret at basically jumping ship at the first opportunity, but the atmosphere at Sweetridge had brought them a new appreciation to the joy of riding that endless lessons and one-upping of their peers had started to dull.
[break][break]
A's gaze dropped to the floor when Charles spoke, almost physically deflating in response. Boo was a good horse, perhaps a little lazy, but he had a desire to work in harmony with his rider, something which A wanted to nurture rather than beat down with a theoretical stick.
[break][break]
They took a sip of the cold coffee to gain a few more seconds to think, eyes flicking back up to look at Charles. "Not everyone has an overwhelming need to be the best," A said quietly, doing their best to hide the slight tremor in their hands.
[break][break]
There was a pause, and for a second A raised their head up, shoulders rolling back to raise up to their full height. "And I think Boo is enjoying getting to just be a horse again," they said brusquely. And then A froze for a moment before looking away to the side, chewing on their lower lip in a worried manner and shoulders dropping. They hadn't meant it to come out quite like that.



Edited the post to add in my new table

[attr="class","runruncirc"]

[attr="class","runrunimg"]

[attr="class","runrunlyric"]
dreaming of[break]black & white

[attr="class","runrunpost"]



A sneer spread across his lips. "Not everyone wanted to be the best they could be?" Preposterous. Why wouldn't anyone want to constantly push themselves to improve? To better their skills on horseback and prove themselves in the show ring? The thought alone was ludicrous to him. He much preferred people who valued ambition and drive, like-minded people to himself. Some might call him elitist for that attitude, but he couldn't care less the opinions of others. He just had standards thank you very much.
[break][break]
"He's a horse, A. He's not living up to his potential if he's just lounging around eating grass and getting fat on too many treats," he replied, gesturing at the bag in A's hands. And it was true. But he supposed he expected nothing less from riffraff at his siblings stables. The problem with letting anyone in, was that anyone...anyone...would in fact join. Without standards, without discipline, there was nothing.
[break][break]
Charles paused, noticing the small tremor in A's hands and the way they looked to the side, not meeting his eyes as they spoke. Well shit. He hadn't meant for things to be so...hostile. He couldn't help it, the thought of his sibling and Sweetridge making his blood boil. They disagreed so strongly on the particular issue of riding and how to run a stable and Charles thought his siblings ideals utterly stupid. The snark had been something of a façade to mask how Charles really felt. In truth A was more than talented enough to ride at Whittemore. Certainly one of the better students he'd had at his stables, but it would be a thousand years before he would ever show it, much less admit it.
[break][break]
Charles glanced up at the counter, wondering if the attendant had come back to let him know his truck was loaded and ready to go. They hadn't. Useless employees who took too long. He looked back at A. Perhaps a more diplomatic approach. As much as he loathed it, he had to set his personal feelings aside. He needed all the riders he could get and would be a fool to alienate the best. Perhaps he could sway them back to Whittemore, he knew he had the superior trainers, facilities, well everything. "Look. I know you're still training with Luther. You should consider coming back to Whittemore if you're serious about your Eventing career. You know we'd take far better care of Boo and make sure he's in top riding condition than Sweetridge ever could."

[attr="class","runruntag"]#Alexander Sinclair

[attr="class","runruncirc2"]

[attr="class","alexsinclairHeader"]

Cause I'm in a field of dandelions wishing on every one that

you'd be mine

[attr="class","alexsinclairPost"]

A sucked in a breath to hold back a retort in response to Charles essentially calling Boo a waste of space if he wasn't always doing some form of work. That appeared to be something the two of them had very different viewpoints on, and A wasn't about to get into a disagreement with him about it. Better to just let it slide and move on with their days, as there were far more productive things both of them could be doing. "But he's not a work machine, either," A said after a moment, tightly squeezing the cup of coffee. Dammit, they just couldn't fully let it go apparently.
[break][break]
They looked up at Charles with a wide-eyed expression when the man spoke again, mouth opening slightly in surprise at the offer. Never in a million would A have expected the man to want them back after leaving to join his sibling's facility. Did Charles need more riders that badly, or was there something else at play?
[break][break]
Returning to Whittemore wasn't something wanted to do for a plethora of reasons, none of them necessarily bad, but once again due to different viewpoints on multiple things. But conveying that sentiment to Charles without sound rude was something A was still figuring out. "I don't think I fit in there anymore... you'd be better off finding someone else with the same level of ambition as you," they finally said, a rare look of determination on their face. That was something A would not change their mind on, no matter how much Charles tried to sway them on it.



Charles Whittemore

[attr="class","runruncirc"]

[attr="class","runrunimg"]

[attr="class","runrunlyric"]
dreaming of[break]black & white

[attr="class","runrunpost"]



A work machine? Charles never said he was, only that he was a horse and a horse's job was to be ridden in the pursuit of excellence and sport. Or at least horses with bloodlines as good as Boo's, bred with purpose and not to be someone's pet. Charles snorted under his breath. He supposed there was no point arguing his point further, having tired of the conversation. He hadn't meant to start a debate on what was, or wasn't. He hadn't spent his entire life on the back of a horse and pushing himself to make his father proud and putting Whittemore on the map for nothing. Not to be told he was wrong, or that his father was wrong.
[break][break]
Blue eyes met blue and Charles was surprised by the resolve staring back at him. So the kid had a spine after all. Charles was impressed, if slightly even more put out that A had decided to ride at Sweetridge instead. No matter. They would eventually realise the error of their ways and come back to Whittemore in time, Charles was sure of it. They would grow tired of the laid back casual approach, finding no real challenge or attention. The thought that not everyone would prefer that didn't even cross his mind, despite A more or less telling him as such.
[break][break]
He didn't have a response to that statement, not believing A's words. A had fit in just fine when they had been riding there, nothing at Whittemore had changed. His attention shifted at the return on the employee calling his name. His order was ready then, finally. "We'll see," he replied. "Excuse me I must be on my way. I suppose I'll see you at the show." He didn't wait for A to respond, turning on his heel and making his way out to the parking lot.

[attr="class","runruntag"]#Alexander Sinclair

[attr="class","runruncirc2"]