Pony Tales - Clover - Day 07.25

Getting TO breakfast was more of a challenge than the idea of breakfast. Sophie held one hand around Clover's waist, guiding her very slowly to the door. To say walking in hooves was like learning to walk again, was an understatement. Clover stumbled, and tripped and took all manner of teeny tiny steps. A trip that should have taken them a few seconds, took five minutes. They managed to get to the door of the tack room, Sophie tugged it open to a rather shocked Aria who had just been reaching for the door. Aria had a tea in one hand and a bit of a lazy smile on her lips.

"Oh! Who is this beautiful pony? Certainly not Clover..." Aria exclaimed softly. Looking at the struggling girl. It didn't help that her boots hadn't been shod yet. The horseshoes tended to help with grip.

Sophie grinned, "She turned out quite nicely I think."

Clover looked between them, blushing visibly and trying to keep herself standing still and upright. She felt like she was walking on stilts.

Aria looked Clover over slowly, tugging a few straps out of curiosity and flicking her finger playfully across a familiar body harness. She stepped back to let Sophie guide Clover into the main aisle of the barn. Most ponies were still in their stalls after enjoying breakfast, now waiting for a trainer to start their day, many of their eyes came to rest on the struggling, stumbling new pony as Aria set her cup of tea down on a nearby bench and hooked an arm around Clover's shoulders.

Together Aria and Sophie carried most of the girl's weight, helping her as she tried to figure out how to walk.

"Try, to press the front of the hoof down first, firmly, and then ease into the step."

The pair coached Clover along, helping her walk down the center of the barn, many ponies came to the front of their stalls, whinnying encouragement.

It was a struggle in multiple ways for Clover. Physically, because she'd never walked in them before, and also because her feet were still rather tender from the previous day. But also mentally, because she wanted to do well. Wanted to be a good pony. She furrowed her brows a little bit, focusing on putting on foot shakily in front of the other. She stared at her feet.

Forty-five minutes of struggle and she was finally balancing on her own. Placing each step precariously in front of another. Aria was ahead of them now, opening the wooden half-door on a stall bearing a small chalkboard with the name 'Clover' on it. A nice touch Aria had made sure to tend to the previous day. Clover looked up at the stall and Aria waiting patiently for them. But she looked up for too long, stepping wrong and falling to her knees.

Sophie stood back, not helping but speaking, "C'mon Clover. You're almost there and then you can rest your hooves and have some breakfast. You've made solid progress so far. Ten more steps and you're there."

Whinnies of encouragement echoed from all around, even from a certain redheaded pony sitting on a cross-beam above them. How she got up there...was a mystery. Clover forced one foot under her, focusing her weight into the sole of the hoof and pushing herself up, she stumbled. Sophie caught her before she fell, helping to steady her and find her balance again.

Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two.

"...And there you are Clover. Your first real walk in your new hooves and compared to a fair few ponies, I'd dare say it was quite a successful first walk." Aria spoke with encouragement as she motioned into the stall. The floor of the stall was lined with a thick rubber mat that sunk beneath Clover's hoof. It was of a special design to help with standing fatigue. On the right wall was a small toilet with a hoof-shaped button atop it for flushing. Other than that, the stall was relatively bare except for the fold-down single cot on the left wall.

Clover eyed the cot curiously as she leaned on the side of the stall for support.

"Ponies used to sleep on the floor but over time we quickly learned that it's not so good for their bodies, nor their posture. So, basic mattresses help to cradle and relax a pony at night so they can maintain good physical health." Aria explained simply as she grabbed a bottle from a basket hanging on the outside of the stall. It was a bit bigger than the dinner bottle she'd given Clover the previous night. She walked to the back wall, clipping it into a purpose-made holder and smiling.

"Come here, Clover."

Clover pushed off the wall and stumbled the few steps to Aria who lifted a 2' leather leash which was attached to a steel ring set into the all. She lifted it up and clipped it to the steel ring on Clover's bridle beneath her chin. She paused for a moment, lengthening it a little bit so that if the poor pony fell over, she wasn't going to hang herself. Aria flicked the bottle full of Clover's breakfast, "Sorry it's cold." She shrugged and walked to the door of the stall, "Someone will be along to collect you in a little while, Clover. Enjoy your breakfast and get used to your new home."

Aria waved and turned, heading out of the stall to go make arrangements with the blacksmith and the house veterinarian.

Sophie however remained for a moment, slipping into the stall and taking hold of Clover's bridle. She turned the pony's head to look her in the eyes, "You did wonderful today Clover." She offered, reaching into a small pouch on her waist and tugging out a sugar cube. She pressed a finger to her lips and then tugged Clover's bit back, pushing the cube past it and winking before she released the pony and headed out of the stall, closing the half-door and locking it behind her.

Clover stood in her stall alone, on shaky feet and sucking on a cube of sugar. She drooled a little. Turning her head to try and wipe it off on her shoulder. She huffed slightly.

Before her was her next challenge. The bottle on the wall, set at the right height for the steel feeding straw to be at the same level as her mouth. She chewed on her bit gently and leaned forward, trying to figure out how to approach it. Below the bit didn't work. But above it did. She used the secured bottle to press the steel straw against her bit, pushing it down until there was just enough space for the straw to get into her mouth. She wrapped her lip around it as tightly as she could, making rather cute sucking sounds as she fought to get the mixture out of the bottle.

Her first mouthful was her groan softly, it was cold. But it was the same texture as the previous day and amazingly like before she could taste the breakfast. Eggs, Bacon, Toast. The flavors ran over her tongue in a very confusing way. She sipped at the bottle greedily. At least the food was good despite the presentation. She sucked at the bottle a bit more. Surprised that even something as small as this could make her feel more like a pony. More like an animal in the care of a barn.

Once she'd drained the bottle down, Clover leaned back and sighed a little bit.

What was she to do now? She tugged experimentally at the leash holding her to the wall. She wasn't going far, that was for sure.

A knock on her stall door made her jump a little, nearly losing her balance as she turned to look. Standing at her stall door was a man with piercing hazel eyes, a thick grey beard, and a mane of grey hair tugged back into a ponytail. His skin was leathery and cracked but he wasn't scary looking because he held a bright smile.

"Y'must be Clover. Based on th' sign they put on yer door. I'm Christoph, th' blacksmith here at Tall Tails, and based on your uneven stance we've got some corrective shoeing to do." He unlocked the door of the stall, reaching into a pouch on his waist and pulling out a bright green candy, "I've been told yer pretty fond of these little guys." He held it up for her to see.

Clover stomped her foot once, wincing slightly.

Christoph grinned, "Well, if yer good at the smithy with me. I've got one with yer name on it and based on tha' wince you just did I think we can improve those boots a bit t'make ya a bit more comfortable." He crossed the length of the stall, pausing to eye the cot attached to the wall of her stall and huffing, "This is th'stall they gave the new pony? With that old ratty thing?" He grumbled a little bit and shook his head, making a note to come later and change out the cot for one of the newer ones.

With a hand the size of a spade and with the dexterity of a piano player, Christoph undid the clip on the leash holding her in place and in one swift movement swept her off her feet and into his arms like a groom would carry a bride, "No poin' in yeh hurtin' yerself walkin' to th' smithy. Not until we get those boots sorted out for ya."

Clover let out a squeak of surprise as she was scooped up in the huge man's arms, her legs curling up slightly. It was surprisingly comforting to the slightly overwhelmed Pony and she made no effort to argue with him as he carried her out of the stall, closing her stall door with a sharp kick. He carried her off down the middle aisle, turning between two stalls and walking out of the far left side of the barn to an area beneath an overhanging roof. It was set up like a classic blacksmith. With a forge, an anvil, and a large assortment of items he needed to shoe and take care of a ponies feet. Off to the side, strapped and bent over a wooden barrel was another pony, her left foot laid out on a padded rest while a woman in a white coat, eased the boot off the crying pony's foot.

"That is what happens when you get upset and kick a stall door with all your might. Don't do that pony. Or you'll end up like Dakota over there with a trip to the vet, and me." He walked over to a barrel, similar to the one the other pony was strapped to, except this one was padded with a thick cushion that hugged Aria's form as she was laid against it on her stomach. A strap was tugged around her waist and she was able to just kind of lean over it, taking the weight off her hooves a little.

"Alrigh' let's see what we've got t'work with here. First, let's get the interior of tha' boot sorted because I can already tell it ain't workin' for ya." He pulled over a stool on wheels and sat down on it beside Clover. A big hand pulling her foot into his lap, "Now y'just relax and let Christoph work. No strugglin' or I'll strap y'down proper." Clover huffed softly and nodded, laying her chin down on the padded barrel as Christoph began to undo the lacing on her boot.