Pick a Pretty Pony (lady lulu!)

[OLIVER FRANCIS MILLER]

"Hamster," Oliver Miller hummed, peering up at the tall speckled creature snorting and sniffing in its stall. "What kind of name is 'Hamster' for a horse?" Hamster bobbed its head, its wide eyes finally settling down as though it had gotten used to the scentless thing in front of it, accepted the strange boy without salt and human skin giving off any of the normal people-smells. He reached up slowly, aware that even though the big giant elephant-like horse couldn't hurt him, it could try, and then things could just turn into a big great mess. People were seeing him today, their eyes settling on him instead of sliding over with only a brief passing recognition. But that was okay; he didn't mind it today. He could even smell the fragrant summer air on the frequent breezes, blowing pollen throughout the park. He could imagine seeing some on his cardigan, or discoloring his skinny jeans, or even getting stuck all over his sneakers as he dragged his feet through the thick, lush lawns. But if Hamster tried to sink his hamster-teeth into his arm and didn't leave so much as a dent, then he didn't think he could stammer out a good-enough excuse.

With caution, Oliver reached up and touched the horse's nose, getting a ghost of sensation from the velvety skin and fur. There were a few more people around the stable that day, some gearing up the horses they shelled out money to rent to go trotting around the forest trails winding around the Pennypack river through the breezy trees and well-worn paths with only small blades of grass growing where fewer feet and hooves fell to trample them down. The dapple horse bucked his head up once, pushing Oliver's hand away, but got busy working his lips around some oats in the door-hanging bin. Oliver watched for a while, liking the way that Hamster reached with its lips in a strange fluttery motion and shifted its weight to rest the round of its hoof on the floor like a bored teenager.

"Do you like being a hamster?" Hamster said nothing. It only rolled one eye over to look at him, leaning quietly by the stall door and watching, chewing absently on the backings to his spiderbite piercings. Some of the people who were getting fitted in their saddles, shifting around and finding the right center to ride comfortably, and then heeling their mounts in the flanks. He understood the point of spurs then; he always assumed cowboys wore them for the sake of looking cool, or making great sounds when they walked into saloons to pick a fight with the local criminal mastermind to secure a place as sheriff. Hamster offered no opinions on the use of spurs versus bare heels, or just how cool a cowboy really could be. He wondered if anyone thought this was his horse, the way he was talking to it and hanging around the stall.

Truth was, he'd only ever been around horses at the pony ride at the zoo, before his dad told him about this place. He'd never ridden without someone pulling it along on a lead with only a blanket keeping it from being truly bareback. And they didn't have enough room, let alone money, for a horse of their own, even if they could keep it in a boarding stable like this one. But he always liked looking at pictures of them, so seeing them up close was really a treat.

[TALLULAH LENNON MARNEY]

The tall brunette stepped out of her car in the parking lot, adjusting her sunglasses on her head. It was quite beautiful out, this she was glad for. She didn't even want to think of riding in cold weather, which was something she was never prepared for, no matter how much extra clothing she wore. Today she wore a simple pair of ripped jeans, and a tye dye shirt that was a mix of red's, yellow's and blue's. She, of course, made it herself. Tallulah was rather good at tye dying clothing.

She looked down to make sure her half chaps were fully zippered, she didn't want to get any rub burns from the saddle. She had those all over her legs! She opened her back seat, pulling out her own personal saddle and her riding helmet. For a part time job, she helped train some of the horses better trail manners. Why only part time? Because they only had two horses that weren't 'up to par'. They were great, but they weren't bomb proof on the trails yet. That's was Tallulah was helping with.

She bounded into the barn, moving toward the stall of a big, draft looking gelding. She placed the saddle and helmet down, moving quickly to get the horses girth, saddle pad and bridle. She returned, looking at the beautiful grey draft horse. "Hey Pippin," She said, softly, letting herself into the stall to brush the dirt out of his fur. She hummed softly, but then a strange energy came to her senses. A spirit? In the barn? Not unheard of, but this was a unfamiliar presence!

Pippin's nostrils flared, turning his head to look down the corridor toward Hamster's stall. "...Hmmmm..." She pondered, slinking out of the stall and toward Hamster's. "Hello?" She paused to stare at him wide eyed slightly. Strange, she could see him clear as day, he could pass off as a human easily. Well, living being. Whatever. "Are you interested in riding? I can help you tack up?" May as well be nice, play along.

[OLIVER FRANCIS MILLER]

"Hello?" Oliver turned his head, his eyes wide in fear of having been caught. What if this was her horse? The girl who had spoken to him, with the giant light eyes and pretty brown hair? Oh no, what if he was being really rude and had broken a rule of the stable? Some...unwritten thing that outsiders didn't know about, and he'd get kicked out and he'd just blush all of the memories of blood right up to his cheeks. "Are you interested in riding? I can help you tack up?"

Maybe...he wasn't breaking a rule! He settled down, a small smile passing over his lips. "Oh, um, I've never ridden before. And I don't...I don't have anything to pay for it. I hope I'm not, um, being rude or anything! I don't know if...I don't know whose horse this is, but he seemed kind of lonely? So I pet him a little, and we've been talking. I hope that's okay?" He pushed his hair out of his eyes, blinking slowly. The way she was looking at him seemed a little...off? But did that just mean she was criticizing him for intruding on someone's horse? Or maybe he was being weird, or something? He bit his lip, rolling his teeth over the posts of his piercings as he tried to figure out what could be the source of that look could be. Or maybe he was just making it up! Yeah, that had to have been it.

"Are you, um, do you own a horse here? Or do you...work here?" He'd looked around at the other horses boarded up, admiring their coats or their fancy names, but Hamster was the only one with whom he'd lingered.

[TALLULAH LENNON MARNEY]

He had never ridden before? Could ghosts even ride horses? She assumed they could, but..hmmm.. She thought for a moment, her blue eyes lifting to the rafters of the stable. She heard Pippin whinny from the other side of the aisle, sticking his dappled, young face out of his stall. "Oh, quiet, Pip!" She said, giggling. She then turned her attention back to the ghost boy.

"Well, today is your lucky day. I work here, I ride the horses and help train them. I mainly only work two, Pippin and Mary Jane, but sometimes I ride the horses that hardly ever get picked." She reached into the stall to let Hamster smell her palm, before he nuzzled her hand. "Thanks for talking to Hammy, his best friend passed away a few weeks ago. I've lost a horse before, but I cannot even fathom what it must feel to be a horse losing a horse!" She commented, rubbing his forelock.

"I don't own any horses, but I like to think I own Pip and Mary. I am only a rider, so to say." She sighed, her dream was to own her own horse, but this was close enough! No need to complain. "I'm about to take Pip out, if you'd like to take Hamster? Hammy is the owner's horse, he wouldn't mind. If I don't take him out, someone else does, so in a way, it helps me out." She said, grinning before holding out her hand. "I'm Tallulah, by the way. But you can call me Lulu instead.."

[OLIVER FRANCIS MILLER]

"Well, today is your lucky day. I work here, I ride the horses and help train them." Oliver perked up at that. Lucky day? What even did that mean? His eyes widened just a little as he waited for something to happen. He scooted out of the way to let her in to see the horse, apparently one that she was fairly familiar with.

"Thanks for talking to Hammy, his best friend passed away a few weeks ago."
"Oh no," he said softly, lower lip pouting outwards. Even animals dying in Disney movies made him bawl like a baby, and even though he couldn't really cry anymore, he remembered how a lump in his throat felt. "Does he have any other friends? Ones in the barn? D-does he get to go out and play with them?" He knew he probably sounded ridiculous, asking about a horse's access to friends and to play, but he'd seen Black Beauty. He'd had dogs, and heard the stories about whales being grateful when divers saved them. He always wept over Youtube when he found those videos. He liked watching someone else pet Hamster, someone whose smells would keep him at better ease than his own lack of them.

"I'm about to take Pip out, if you'd like to take Hamster? Hammy is the owner's horse, he wouldn't mind."
"It's really okay?" he asked, eyebrows raising behind his thick and heavy bangs. "Oh, but I don't know how! I've only ever done pony rides. I don't...know the first thing about being on a real horse. I mean, um, if...if I could, I'd like to--I've always wanted to--but I'd probably end up falling off somewhere and ending up in a river." Though he laughed openly, he did have some real concerns about just how that would work out for him. Not very well, probably!

"I'm Tallulah, by the way. But you can call me Lulu instead."
Oliver's face lit up. "I kind of like Tallulah better, if you don't mind?" His head tilted and his weight shifted. "My name's Oliver! That's not really as neat as Tallulah, but, um, there it is, I guess!"

[TALLULAH LENNON MARNEY]

She smiled softly, her blue eyes looking over to him with a somewhat sad look. Of course Hammy had other friends! Yet, they weren't his BEST friend! They weren't that beautiful palomino Quarter Horse named Mellow Yellow! Tallulah finally decided to explain this to the endearing male before her. "He does. I've been trying to get Pip and him on best friend status, but they are only at 'good friend' status. Sooo close~" She answered with a giggle. "See, Hamster is about nineteen years old, so hes getting up there. Mellow Yellow, his best friend who passed on was thirty one. He'll need a friend that will stay with him still he moves on, which wont be for awhile, right boy?" She asked, scratching at his forehead. "That's why Pip is perfect because hes only six."

This was just adorable. This attractive, but sadly passed on man bonding with a heartbroken horse. Maybe it would be good for Hamster? They could continue to be friends after he passed on, if that's how it worked. There was something she could research! She blinked, a big smile on her face. "I'll just lead you behind me, I promise! Hamster is like riding a couch! He'll probably take better care of you then I will." She said, chuckling. She was a good riding instructor though, she probably wasn't making it seem anymore less dangerous.

"I don't mind." She said, smiling, then tilting her head to the side, letting her long hair cascade over her shoulder. She noticed this and quickly tied it up into a low ponytail, so her hair wouldn't get in the way whilst riding. "I like Oliver. Reminds me of the Disney movie.". She started to way back towards Pippin's stall, tilting her head to the side. "Did you decide yet?"

[OLIVER FRANCIS MILLER]

"How do horses find best friends?" Oliver asked, pushing out a tone of desperation despite himself. "What does Pip have to do to to have them be best friends? Maybe Hamster is too sad to have a best friend yet? Like, he doesn't want to replace, um, Mellow Yellow?" He was surprised to hear how long the horses had been alive. Hamster was almost as old as he was! It broke his heart to hear about horses dying--especially the one with whom he was finally bonding--so he hoped the discussion of best horse friends would take a turn for the cheerier. He said nothing about it, feeling a little awkward and like it just wasn't his place to bring up.

Oliver had no clue whatsoever about how horses passed on, and whether they would get to be ghost friends or anything. He didn't think he'd ever seen a ghost animal, but he also had only been dead for a year, so there was plenty of room for discovery. "I'll just lead you behind me, I promise! Hamster is like riding a couch! He'll probably take better care of you then I will." A little frown pulled at the corners of his mouth.

"I dunno, couches can get...pretty rowdy," he murmured, rubbing his neck. He couldn't help but wonder at what it would be like for the horse to have a ghost straddling him. Not having any real weight other than the saddle for once would probably be great, but what if that meant Oliver wouldn't be able to properly rein him in? "Well, um, yeah, as long as you can keep him from wandering somewhere to eat some flowers or whatever, then yeah, let's do it." That wasn't an issue for a dead guy, of course! He could wander around the world as much as he wanted, but he couldn't guarantee keeping Hamster from breaking his leg and needing to be shot, which was just horrible and awful and sicknasty to think about, so he pushed it aside. He might not even be able to bring him back to the barn if he needed and they got lost. Would Tallulah be able to follow them, like a tracker?

Or maybe Hamster was just too old to want to go out on his own, off the beaten path, ghost rider or not.

"I like Oliver. Reminds me of the Disney movie."
"With...with the cat? I only saw it once when I was really little. But I think he actually, um, I guess inspired me to start singing!" Right after the words had left his mouth, he regretted it. He tried to keep his smile from fading--he could do this, he would talk about one of his secret hidden talents with the nice with with the horses, just like he talked to the pretty blonde in the club a while ago--and nodded once, signalling his commitment to whatever might come next. He followed along to Pip's stall, passing a young teenage boy taking his horse by the halter to the cross-ties at the far end of the barn, away from the others. "Whose horse is Pip? What kind is he?" There was once a time when Oliver had been far more invested in horses, with their breeds and coat types, just like he had once been in love with dinosaurs--especially the idea of being one.

[TALLULAH LENNON MARNEY]

"They find friends like we do. Or, at least how I do." She said, blushing slightly. "Whatever feels right, you know? Following the heart and what not. Horses doesn't get betrayed though." She said, laughing it off. She envied that about horses. Once they became friends, they stayed friends. Never any petty fights, arguments or backstabbing. It was something she was always going to be a bit jealous about. It was alright though, because at least she had horses as friends! "He'll let Pippin in his life when hes ready."

"How about this, he is a brand new couch that has never been broken or whatever?" She asked, giggling. She beamed when she finally answered, opening up Pippin's stall and leading him into the cross ties. "Great! Let me tack up Pippin real quick, then I'll tack up Hammy." She said, starting the brush his dabble grey coat. She overheard what he said about the singing and pretty much caught his regret in his tone. "So you like the sing? I can sing as well, I can also play a few tunes on the ole' geetar." She said, sticking out her tounge slightly.

She finished brushing the grey and started to tack up the horse. Firs the pad, then the saddle, then the girth. She would put on the bridle after she had Hammy completely tacked. "He's a seven year old, seven hands high, dapple grey Percheron gelding." She said, proudly.

[OLIVER FRANCIS MILLER]

"So you like the sing? I can sing as well, I can also play a few tunes on the ole' geetar."
"Oh yeah?" Oliver's face beamed. "I've never...never had lessons or anything, but I learned to play guitar a little from some of my friends who were really into bands, but I haven't...I haven't played in forever? Since I was like seventeen, so I kind of forget how. But, um, I'm in school for art, so I guess it kind of makes sense?" Maybe now that he was comfortable, he was getting into the oversharing portion of his anxiety issues. But it was better than shutting down completely, he assumed! "So my friends would play guitar, and I'd sit and draw and we'd all sing together, and I don't know how good we were? But it was fun, I guess!" He didn't even feel that twinge of awkwardness at mentioning his artistic endeavors like he normally did--he almost but did not quite dreaded the almost unavoidable "wow you can draw i can only do stick figures!" declarations.

"He's a seven year old, seven hands high, dapple grey Percheron gelding."
"Ahaha, holy shit, he's an elephant! Or a giraffe, or something. How do you even get up there?" He reached out and stroked the giant neck, watching the horse swing his head around to look at the dead guy touching him, peer at him for a few seconds, and then turn back around. If anyone mentioned to him that Clydesdales were even bigger, as he looked down at the dinner plate sized hooves on Pip, he might just die again. "So is Pippin just hipster irony, or something?" he asked, grinning toothily. He was certainly one to talk about hipsters, sporting the hair that he did, the skin-tight jeans and baggy cardigan that he did, and the all London Calling and Gogol Bordelo iTunes library that he did. "How big is seven hands? Three thousand feet?" The horse's warm body twitched beneath his temperatureless hands as he stroked the broad ribs and shoulders, like a fly had landed and had started nibbling at the delicate skin beneath the pretty fur. He found that if he scratched at just the right pressure, the horse's fur moved with the path of his fingernails. He was also beginning to smell and feel the dust and the smooth bristly furs a little more clearly.

"Do the other horses have friends?" Slowly, gingerly, Oliver leaned in and pressed his cheek against the hot horse neck. Pip shifted like he might take a step away from Oliver, then settled back. Oliver closed his eyes and nuzzled his face in, broad smile not hidden when he brought his hands up to pet the giant dragon-horse's neck.