[obstacle] probably a bad idea

Was obstacle a bad idea for them? Almost certainly. Was Wyatt going to try it anyway? Sure, why not? He had decent enough health insurance, and a little time off wasn't the worst thing he could ask for in the fall. If he didn't wreck out, that would be even better, but he understands that he's at the mercy of a mare who probably didn't care if he lived or died. To her credit, Piri had done remarkably well in the morning's mounted archery class. Having kept her shit together basically the entire time, he's probably pushing his luck. Still, Piri was at least a bit tired. Even now, tethered to the back of his trailer, she rested comfortably-- hip cocked, lip hanging. If there was ever a time for things to go right, this was it.

Idly, Wyatt re-braids Piri's tail. It's a careful motion, meant to calm his nerves more than make her look any more polished. Red ribbons woven through each plait, there's no message clearer-- she kicks. Not just that, but it's all he can do short of throwing a velcro leash wrap around it, on that says MEAN in large text. Hell, that may not be the worst idea. For her lead rope at least, perhaps it would be a good choice. Chuckling to himself, he chances a glance at the outdoor arena. It's time to warm back up, and get ready to return to the sand.

As Wyatt reaches to tighten Piri's girth, the mare reaches to bite his shoulder. "Damnit, woman." Grumbling, he should have been more aware. Was that Piri getting it out of her system, or an omen of what awaited him in the ring? Too soon to tell, and Wyatt slipped a flannel lined denim jacket on over his show shirt. It was getting too cold to be out without it, and the pale fabric displayed the tidy impression of her teeth more than he'd like to admit. Right, couldn't have anyone knowing that Piri had her evil streak with him, right along with everyone else.

Moving through the warmup ring, Wyatt gets a good look at the obstacles. The layout seems to make sense, and no outright water features-- too cold for that. Instead, it's a very festive affair. He gives a little sigh, reaching down to scratch at the spice mare's withers. She flicks an ear in response. Beginning to move through gaits, Wyatt would do his best to clear his head. Starting Piri at the walk, he encourages her to relax. Get her head down. Right, so far so good. Picking up a jog, and moving into a more forward trot. Lope next, then a true canter. Okay, not bad, and Piri even managed to pick up the correct lead without much reminding. Maybe Wyatt could leverage their connection and make something out of their entry, after all.

It's not long before their number is called, and the first obstacle comes before truly entering the ring. The gate is large, with a festive fall wreath hanging in the center-- complete with fluttering plaid ribbons. At least with the preparations they'd done for ranch classes, Piri could handle this one. Opening the gait, slipping through it, and closing it behind them seemed easy enough. Though the mare lifted her head indignantly, Wyatt was able to get her back into a decent headspace and continue on.

The next obstacle consisted of a modified version of the log drag. Again, something they had trained for, but to limited success. Wyatt is well aware they were tempting fate here, but the log is lighter than a typical ranch class. That, and it's dressed like a scarecrow. Well, points for creativity, he supposed. Dallying up and taking a deep breath, Wyatt's hand is gentle on Piri's neck for a moment. "Easy, just like we practiced." Leading off at a walk, the mare doesn't react to the scarecrow behind her. Not yet, at least. Moving through the circle, walking with a purpose, she actually looks fairly good. It's one of the cleaner obstacles, thanks to the amount of practice the pair has had.

Looking ahead, maybe Wyatt was growing confident, comfortable. Piri would read it as complacency, which would only come around to bite him in the ass. Before them, a set of ground poles confined between richly decorated bales of straw. Beyond that, a spider built out of an old barrel and pool noodles, a mail box wrapped in garland and festive lights, and a hay bale maze that would lead them right back to the gate. Letting go of a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, Wyatt urged Piri to a trot. The mare obliged, steps lengthening as she moved.

The first half of the ground poles went with little issue. Though Piri looks awkward hopping over the low obstacle, it's better than nothing. Still, it seems Wyatt has gotten too comfortable. A mischievous fall wind kicks up, blowing hard enough to knock the greenery on the mailbox to their right side free. Piri reacts immediately, darting to the side and letting go a banshee's shriek. One hop to the side, and then another. Before Wyatt can process what's happening, the mare takes off. Rearing, bucking, and then lunging for the disheveled decor. As if it has personally offended her, Piri launches toward it. It's only at this point that Wyatt decides the safer option is to bail.

Landing on his feet, he's quick to begin attempting to gather his mare. Red tail ribbon shining, she kicks out at her rider as he attempts to catch her. Moving toward the offending mail box, Piri rips away a large section of garland. Holding it aloft and then dramatically spitting it out when she realizes it's nothing edible, the mare strikes the obstacle with a kick instead. There's something terribly indignant about her. Wyatt uses the opening, the moment of relative calm as she recoils and before she can strike again, to catch her. Reaching up and taking hold of his reins once more, he would quickly exit the ring, an apologetic wave to the ring stewards. A heavy sigh, Wyatt pats the mare's withers once more. "It's okay, I should have known better." Voice quiet, perhaps a bit resigned, they return to the trailer for some dinner and time to rest.