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HeyThereLittleBear
Guest
There was something to be said about someone who was willing to go above and beyond their call of duty. A person who would do their job, do it well, and even do the job of others was someone to be cherished. And the owner of the small farm, John, cherished no one on his staff more than he cherished Jocelyn. Though young, Jocelyn had proven herself to be invaluable as a stable hand, a hard worker that would gladly fulfill her duties.
She had started working as a stable hand at the young age of fifteen, quickly establishing a name for herself among the others for the hard work she put in even then. She'd fed and combed horses without complaint, cleaned the stables with a smile, and had no problem in working with the ones that had developed shy personalities from their lack of frequent contact with people. It wasn't long before she was known as the horse whisperer among the others, most notably for how well she worked with them.
In all honesty, horses had been her passion since a young age -- even as young as 5 she'd had a dream of working with them. Back then, she'd had the dream of being a vet to the horses, but now the appeal was more in their care. There was nothing she loved more than making sure they were well taken care of, because it afforded her the rare opportunity to get to know them and their personalities. They were as much a part of her life as anything else.
It had been over two years since she'd first set foot here, and she had quickly become the reining queen. Morning had already come and gone and with the afternoon, came John. He was an older fellow, with salt and pepper hair that was cut short to hide the fact he was balding swiftly. His eyes were a light green and skin cracked from many years in the sun.
He sat her down at the tables near the paddocks, lunch in hand as he detailed out the new duties he was assigning to her. News to her, but another stable hand had quit. It had been the older fellow, the caretaker for the wilder creatures, stallions mostly that were used for breeding. She was taking on his responsibilities, which was to care for the breeding stallions and ensure that they would produce top quality offspring... Which meant milking.
Jocelyn hadn't complained of her duties yet, and she wasn't about to start now, though the idea of milking a stallion was disgusting enough to roll her stomach. She regretted the lunch she'd accepted, as she was sure that it would soon be returning to him in a not so pleasant fashion.
Luckily, her lunch remained where it belonged and her body felt better for it, as purging was quite a nasty thing to do. She forced herself to be steel, giving the man a soft smile and an assurance that his stallions would be well taken care of.
She felt nervous as she started towards a part of the barns that she hadn't ordinarily taken care of, wringing her hands together nervously. She bit her lip softly, using her softest voice to get the stallion's attention. "Hey big boy," She slid a hand through the bars of his stall, offering it palm up so that he could inspect her. "I'm your new caretaker. I'm Jocelyn." He, of course, couldn't understand her, but he would know she wasn't a threat.
She had started working as a stable hand at the young age of fifteen, quickly establishing a name for herself among the others for the hard work she put in even then. She'd fed and combed horses without complaint, cleaned the stables with a smile, and had no problem in working with the ones that had developed shy personalities from their lack of frequent contact with people. It wasn't long before she was known as the horse whisperer among the others, most notably for how well she worked with them.
In all honesty, horses had been her passion since a young age -- even as young as 5 she'd had a dream of working with them. Back then, she'd had the dream of being a vet to the horses, but now the appeal was more in their care. There was nothing she loved more than making sure they were well taken care of, because it afforded her the rare opportunity to get to know them and their personalities. They were as much a part of her life as anything else.
It had been over two years since she'd first set foot here, and she had quickly become the reining queen. Morning had already come and gone and with the afternoon, came John. He was an older fellow, with salt and pepper hair that was cut short to hide the fact he was balding swiftly. His eyes were a light green and skin cracked from many years in the sun.
He sat her down at the tables near the paddocks, lunch in hand as he detailed out the new duties he was assigning to her. News to her, but another stable hand had quit. It had been the older fellow, the caretaker for the wilder creatures, stallions mostly that were used for breeding. She was taking on his responsibilities, which was to care for the breeding stallions and ensure that they would produce top quality offspring... Which meant milking.
Jocelyn hadn't complained of her duties yet, and she wasn't about to start now, though the idea of milking a stallion was disgusting enough to roll her stomach. She regretted the lunch she'd accepted, as she was sure that it would soon be returning to him in a not so pleasant fashion.
Luckily, her lunch remained where it belonged and her body felt better for it, as purging was quite a nasty thing to do. She forced herself to be steel, giving the man a soft smile and an assurance that his stallions would be well taken care of.
She felt nervous as she started towards a part of the barns that she hadn't ordinarily taken care of, wringing her hands together nervously. She bit her lip softly, using her softest voice to get the stallion's attention. "Hey big boy," She slid a hand through the bars of his stall, offering it palm up so that he could inspect her. "I'm your new caretaker. I'm Jocelyn." He, of course, couldn't understand her, but he would know she wasn't a threat.
