Okay, since I, sadly, cannot PM at the moment I'm going to toss my little writing sample up here for you, Luv. (Sorry everyone else who has to see it.. Possibly ignore it, perhaps?) I didn't really know what to write since I have took a tumble into the unforgiving pit of writer's block. -__- Bleh. Anyway, I hope it suits your fancy! If not, let me know and I can hopefully think of something else. I basically wrote about her(Riley's) first impression of Shady Oak and a little "back history," if you can even call it that.
If the writing sample is okay, however, I will definitely have Ms. Riley's character sheet submitted by tomorrow.(: Oh, and I can also take on another character(male) if you need me to. Just let me know!
Here goes nothin'..
Writing Sample Be afraid :P (My apologies for the short-ness!)
As soon as Riley spotted Shady Oak she immediately knew she was way in over her head. The size of the place.. The beauty of it; she almost talked herself into turning back around, getting in the truck and going home. She swallowed hard and glanced over her shoulder, watching her grandfather's old, red Ford pick-up truck disappear in a gentle cloud of dust as it sputtered down the road, pulling the rickety horse trailer behind it. There was no going back now. Another glance at the boarding house made her stomach churn uneasily(it was like Biltmore compared to her grandparents' one story home and dusty barn with a roof not-so-promising).
A tug at the lead rope gripped firmly in her right hand brought her back to reality. Her gaze flickered to J.W., her thoroughbred she received as a present from her grandfather at the age of fourteen. He was starring at her with knowing eyes, yet she saw the impatient gleam behind them. "I know, I know, you're hungry.." Riley murmured, squeezing her eyes shut briefly, taking a deep, needed breath. This really wasn't the place for her. All her life she'd grown up riding for pleasure, trail riding, that is. She use to only ride western saddle in big ole' groups for the fun of it. Then, around sixteen, she got bored with that and started training J.W., learning to ride English saddle and so forth. They entered a couple local competitions and always done fairly well, but she yearned for something more; she wanted to advance in what she done.
Last week was Riley's eighteenth birthday. For said birthday she had asked for a new saddle. The one she used previously was her grandmother's old English saddle and though it was okay for it's age and wear, she really wanted one of her own. Instead, her grandfather slapped down a brochure for Shady Oak Stable at the breakfast table that very morning of her birthday and went on to tell her that her first month had been paid for. Riley was thoroughly surprised to say the least. Her grandparents could barely afford the fed they had to buy for the five horses they had, let alone send her to some fancy rich-person place.. thing to pursue her dream of becoming "one of the best." It was crazy.
Yet, when she tried talking them out of it the look of hurt that entered her grandmother's pale blue eyes changed her mind. She would do this. She would win.- she had to. However, two days after the news Riley had a spill on J.W. They were going for a jump when she lost her balance foolishly and tumbled off, landing hard on her left side, breaking her left arm. Though angry at herself and feeling utterly defeated(having talked herself out of coming to Shady Oak at all), her grandfather pushed her to come anyway.
So, there Riley Jo stood, lead rope in her right hand which felt mighty awkward, small suitcase tucked in under her right armpit, backpack on her back, and her left arm snug against her side(if you would consider smothered in plaster, a cast, if you will.. and stiffly there snug). She was small compared to this place.. Small compared to the rich, experienced folk who were the denizens.
Riley looked at J.W. once more as he tossed his head restlessly and pawed at the dirt beneath his hooves. It was his way of telling her the time was now or never. Either plunge into this thing head first or go home. Sadly, her only way home was in a small, red truck taking the four and a half hour drive back to her hometown in Tennessee. There was only one other option.
"C'mon, J.W., time to meet the stable owner."
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