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Raymond read the paper often, obnoxious priss that he was. Over coffee, at that, in his obnoxiously fine house on a seaside cliff. A lot of things about Raymond were obnoxiously perfect, and he knew it. He didn't try to be this way, and his mother and sister had honestly tried to keep him from it. But in the end, blood told and clearly one of his unknown blood parents had been overachieving and/or a priss. He was what he was.

Still, he relaxed sometimes, and the idea of a trail ride in a desert... not a bad idea. He and Rook would spend some time together – the mare had been getting used to him, and she needed a treat. Of course, some would warn against sending the clearly abused lady into a situation she was unfamiliar with, but she was a smart horse. She needed stimulation. She needed something special.

She needed a date.

He emailed the woman and set a date and proceeded with the training that would have Rook ready for transport to the place.

~~~

The day came, and transport went without a hitch. He could tell the horse was stressed, but she trusted him, and – though she was wary – he felt honored when she accepted the apple from his hands and let him put the bridle on her. They were there, at Rattlesnake Downs, and – he scanned the desert with his clear brown eyes, observing the facilities with an appraising gaze – their guide should be there by now.

Rook shuffled a bit at the unfamiliar person, but calmed beneath Raymond's gently stroking hand. “You are lovely.” he reassured her as they waited, inexpertly putting on the riding saddle he'd had made for her. She accepted the compliment with dignity, and the saddle with wariness – the only reason she allowed it was because she knew it was Raymond, and she knew she could trust him.

Any other person would have found her impossible. She watched, warily, as the stallion was brought out and Raymond checked the saddle to be absolutely sure that he had done it right: no room for error, not with his Rook.

“So, you're Rannon, then? Raymond. Raymond Williams.” he introduced himself, “And this is Rook.”

Well, Rooks weren't quite crows, but... “... Yes. A sort of crow.” he said, mounting Rook with care. Yes. An easy trail was good – this was, after all, a date. Of sorts. With a horse. But Rook was a special horse, in ways Raymond didn't feel like trying to describe. “They are black birds, with white faces and beaks... an odd name, I know, for a horse of her colors, but...” he offered a handsome smile, “I felt it suited her, and she seems to like it.”

Of course, it could be a date in other ways, but Raymond would not force that to happen. His intent was to enjoy the beautiful scenery and his beautiful horse. “Caustic Sunshine... anything behind his name?” Raymond asked, getting Rook to walk over towards them – not too near. Rook had boundaries that Raymond – and others – had to respect.

Ray liked to think that Rook liked her name. He pat her neck.

“No need to apologize” he said, cordially, “I don't mind. It is always nice to hear someone talk enthusiastically about something – or someone – they truly care about.” He had been blessed to be around such passionate people all of his life – his mother, his sister, and now Khunm. They all had things that brought them to life, that animated them, that made them alive with joy. “Feel free to tell me more about him.” He followed her, Rook moving well. He'd been worried about how she would react to being ridden. “He is quite an uncommon one.” he agreed. Poetic, he wasn't so sure about, but poetry was not to be judged. “You can tell me more about the trail, too. I read the summary you sent, but I am sure this place has a story to it that cannot be translated into mere words in electricity or ink.”

“An escape artist?” he asked, bemused, looking at Caustic, and then glancing to the stables now receding behind them. “Indeed?”

“I am honored.” murmured Raymond. The grand view was lovely and as he and Rook followed their guide to the foothills, Raymond mused at the feel of Rook's muscular body laboring beneath him. How was a horse's lot, to be ridden on and never the rider? She seemed to be managing well enough, and did not seem to be too upset, and it wasn't as though he could carry the mare, even if he had felt the need to try. They stopped on a ledge as the sun struck the cliffs and the towers – seemingly carved by an unseen hand into regular-looking shapes – and Raymond gasped and made an appreciative murmur. “Spectacular...” he said, taking it in.

Rook, herself, wasn't so sure about the view, but Raymond seemed to like it and the mare knew he had worked very hard – hell, he'd worked hard just to get on her back, and she appreciated his efforts. If he liked this ride, let it be his treat. She could endure the workout, and she knew she would be all the better for it.

She eyed the stallion, wary. If he tried anything, she would kick him. If his rider tried anything, she would kick her. But, she knew that Raymond would appreciate some form of interaction from her, and Rook was at least going to give it a try.

”So. You.” she huffed at the stallion, ”Do you run races?

Rook almost wished the stallion hadn't answered, though that would have sabotaged her efforts to be social. Then again, that was kind of the point. ”Can't say I have” she said. She didn't really pay attention to the other horses when she ran, to be honest, unless they were a problem. She just ran, and that was fun enough, though she got tired of the crowds and bullshit quickly. ”Is he fast?”

“Yes! Very good placement.” he agreed, “My ranch overlooks a small, nearly virgin forest and a set of seaside cliffs.” he smiled, “So I know all about good placement. Though, the cliffs make it quite difficult to run horses at times.”

“Oh yes.” said Raymond, “They stop by, briefly, nearby at times, breaching the water with their vast backs...” he gestured, as if he could somehow describe the majesty of a whale. “Fish too. The former owner of the land tells me that there are many fish in those waters... if you're interested in fishing, that is.”

Rook decided to pointedly ignore the reaching-out of the stallion. ”No. Not many. Two other racing mares, and thats all.” and that was fine with her.