The North Western Stables: The Adventure Begins

Chapter One

The Island of Sodor is home to many equestrian facilities, such as the Culdee Fell Stables or the Skarloey Stables but none are as large or as famous as the North Western Stables.

Within these large facilities are currently four workers; Edward Pettigrew, a general stablehand who works with horses needing to be trained up and younger riders but is a good all rounder, Henry Stainer, who mainly keeps to goods services in horse-drawn carts around the island from the various farms but is good at cross-country, Gordon Gresley, who takes passengers around the island in carriages as a sort of 'express service' if you will as well as performs in grand dressage competitions, and James Hughes, currently the youngest and is a general all rounder like Edward.

Edward sighed as he brought Hazel back to a walk after a particularly hard lunging session. Hazel was, admittedly, everyone's favourite but by God did the chestnut mare know it. Being the favourite could make her a little temperamental when it came to training, even if she was soon to be retired and could quite easily go through transitions properly.

"Come on, lass, you know how to do this," Edward chided, "Canter!" and he clicked his tongue a few times.

Hazel snorted and continued to walk.

Her trainer sighed and gently waved the lunging crop at her, getting her to pick her hooves up as he clicked his tongue and repeated the command.

Another snort.

"You can stop with the attitude, young lady," Edward huffed before a coy smile curled his lips, "You do as you're told and I'll give you a few sugarcubes, how does that sound?"

Hazel's eyes lit up and she stepped gracefully into a canter. Edward chuckled, worked like a charm.

He kept her going through various transitions - walk, trot, canter, back to trot - for another half an hour. Sweat began to soak the mare as he pulled her gently back to a slow walk to let her cool down.

"Good lass." he smiled, pushing his greying brown hair out his face, "See, you can do these things, can't you?"

Hazel nickered and nuzzled his shoulder.

"When you want to. Now, how about a nice sponge down and a bucket of cold water?"

Back on the yard, Edward had been in the middle sponging Hazel down with cold water and given the promised bucket when a younger rider, one of Sir Topham Hatt's class he guessed, came quite hurriedly onto the yard,

"Mr Edward! Mr Edward!" the young lad panted, "Please, Mr Edward, Hatt says Gordon struggling to get up the hill with the goods, Mr Edward! He wants you to go and help!"

Edward nodded. They had laughed and teased Gordon about the fact that he had to take the goods for the morning due to a lack in express bookings but Edward knew that the horses would struggle in this heat and even more so on that accursed hill.

"Alright, lad," Edward said, "Do you know if any of the shires are available?"

A thoughtful expression crossed the boy's face. "No, but I think two of the Suffolk punches are."

Edward nodded. Good. Any of the heavy horses would do, even if he would have preferred the shires, who could probably handle the hill better. Nonetheless, Suffolk punches would do just fine.

Edward pressed the sponge into the lad's shaking hand. "You take care of Hazel and calm yourself down, lad, alright?"

The lad nodded and picked up Edward's work, causing Hazel - always perceptive - to nicker gently and nuzzle his shoulder with her soft muzzle.

Edward smiled before turning to leave.

He and two of the Suffolk punches (grumpy about having to leave their grass fields) found a hot and bothered Gordon at the foot of the hill, the horses at the front of his carts sweating and panting.