Faith

Reins

Before all things, it is important to mention that this fic was co-authored with a-thesis-film-destroyed-me: he came up with the original idea and is responsible for all the awesome in this story: I just wrote the filler. I hope you enjoy this new fic!

There were few times that Sherwin could say he felt truly safe: one of them happened to be when he was riding his horse, Shirley (his little brother usually debated with him over that one point and called the stout gray mare a pony; the older boy, needless to say, didn't agree), walking the sun-hardened paths through the immense wheat fields and occasional forests dotting the countryside.

In those times, nothing else mattered: there was a calming rhythm to the clopping of the animal's hooves against the ground, the waves of wind curving the golden fields. This was a time he allowed for himself to daydream, and of course indulge in his own guilty habits that he had to wait all day to evacuate: swinging his legs, fiddling with his hands, twisting and pulling his hair, spouting gibberish. At home, he had learned not to do such things. Shirley was the only member of his family and friends who didn't seem to mind this, and he was grateful for having been gifted with such a calm and loving animal.

Today, however, was different. Even before he pulled the bridle over her head, she was pawing at the ground impatiently. The redhead had checked her feet, her food, her stools and field, but nothing seemed amiss. She was just antsy, he had decided, and had hurriedly vaulted onto her bare back and set off without further ado.

Yet now, even though he had allowed her a short canter, an activity that usually calmed her down to a more manageable level, she tugged at her bit and tried to speed forward. Sherwin wasn't sure what to do, something that he was used to being easygoing now turned stressful, and could think of nothing better to do other than shorten his rein.

This was not a good idea. The mare stopped suddenly, trembling in a way that made the boy extremely apprehensive, then she bucked. Nothing big, nothing that would eject him, an experienced rider, but it unsettled him enough to make him loosen his hold for a fatal second, one that the dastardly horse chose to use by jerking her head forward, snapping the reins clean out of his hands, before setting off at a full-speed gallop down the beaten-earth path.

Sherwin squeaked, scared that the loose tack would be thrown over his dear horse's head and get tangled in her forelegs. He would not fall himself, and the dizzying speed wasn't really that bad, but his gut clenched with panic as he held onto her mane with one hand, the other trying desperately to get a hold on the loose, thin piece of leather that might mean both of their demises.

The redhead boy could tell that they were way off course. The road was no longer earth, but hard concrete. The sound of Shirley's hooves clacking against the surface was painful to hear, the noise grating against her rider's ears, but still the reins evaded him, like a snake teasing him to grab its tail. Inexplicably, she made a sharp turn off the main road, one which nearly sent Sherwin flying, but he held on tight and braced himself as they crashed through forest.

Branches flew at him, and no longer could he concentrate on catching the reins. Instead, he ducked, keeping as close as possible to his horse to avoid getting smacked in the face. Again, they emerged into daylight, and even before Sherwin could look around and take in their surroundings, Shirley screeched to a jarring halt that sent clumps of earth flying this way and that.

This time Sherwin could not stop himself: still holding the speed that Shirley had imposed upon him, he flew forward over the small gray horse's head and straight into the person standing right in front of them.

His landing was surprisingly soft: Sherwin had been thrown in such a way that he fell on his feet, at least, and the person stood there was strong enough to take his weight. However, he had landed face first in their chest, so for a second, the boy could only take in the heavy smell of leather, engine oil and cigarette smoke, before he took a quick and panicked step back, waving his hands in an apologetic gesture.