6:46 a.m. Monday, Jun 22, [1891].

Château d'Ygrande, Auvergne, France. A lovely old stone building with a horse ranch attached at the back, complete with numerous amenities including but not limited to: ponds, walking trails, endless pastures and paddocks. As well as some benefits for humans.

A girl rises from her bed and her feet reflexively spring up, causing her suitcase to fall to the floor and open in the process, spilling her many clothes onto the ground.

She'd arrived the night before and not to a warm welcome. Her father, or really, the family chauffeur, had driven her all the way from Paris to this camp her parents insisted she stay at for the summer. Something about needing a challenge, taking a stand for feminism, having something to do while college was out, or whatever her mother had lectured her about.

Duperré was enough, wasn't it? She was already considered a radical for attending a women's college, now she had to become an equestrian?

Needless to say, the men at the ranch didn't care for her presence, aside from having a bit of eye candy, so to speak. Though, they knew better than to touch. Her father had paid them in full just to keep her there for a couple months, after all. And they weren't about to go playing with the aristocrat's little heiress.

6:48 a.m.

A boy plays with an apple in his hand, tossing it into the air a few times before almost dropping it. He chuckles the move off, glancing over to shoulder to make sure nobody else had seen it, and continues on his way to the stables. There, he begins putting on the halters of the horses and leading them one by one out to a nearby pasture for breakfast.

Once there's only one horse left, he approaches with a beaming grin. He raises the apple to his mouth only to stop when he makes eye contact with the equine. He seems to snort and tosses the apple her way, watching her chomp it up. He reaches out and nuzzles her muzzle, petting her affectionately.

"Haha, how could I say no to those eyes? Huh?"

With that said, or rather, cooed, he buckles up her halter and leads her to the same pasture to let her dine with her friends.

He leans against the fence, watching the mares and stallions graze, only for his morning peace to be broken by the sound of bootsteps shifting the pebbles beneath them.

"Bonjour, Francie," the boy greets, turning to face the middle-aged man with a smug look. "What good news do you have for me today?"

The man seems to find this amusing and pats the boy on the back, looking out towards the horses as well. He scratches his thick silver beard, as if searching for his chin underneath.

"Got three newcomers for you today. They'll be staying for a week. New to riding so get them paired up with the good ones, got it?" The man instructs, gesturing with a tilt of his head towards some of the horses in the paddock. "One is rather small so I'd recommend using Soufflé. Oh, and make sure Emperor is well-fed - he's looking a little thin."

The boy lets out a grunt of agreement, biting the inside of his mouth as the man walks away.

7:43 a.m.

The girl heads downstairs from her room, having had the servants deliver breakfast to her, though they were a little reluctant to. She's not in Paris anymore.

She roams the hallways for a while, exploring the place she'd only seen in the darkness of night so far. It looks much friendlier in the daylight, although far more abandoned. She can't hear anyone around. So she goes outside and takes a breath of the crisp fresh air. Not like Paris at all.

Her father had told her she'd learn to ride horses here. The idea had some appeal to her, but it was a boys' activity, no? Also a little gross when you have to actually clean up after them.

Nonetheless, she approaches one of the paddocks, seeing a group of men standing in it and talking. She leans onto the fence and listens to their conversation.

"... this is Soufflé, an Anglo-Arab," a tall bearded man informs the group, motioning for one to come forward. The small boy does so and reaches out his hand. "She gets a little jumpy so-"

And then the small white horse rears, kicking her front legs out to defend herself. The sight makes the girl flinch, now even more scared to ride these things. Luckily, the small boy doesn't seem hurt.

After a while, the three men on the field finally are able to put the saddles on the horses and eventually their feet find the stirrups. The bearded man as well as another guy watch and guide the group in the basics. And she looks from afar, slowly adjusting to the idea. It doesn't seem so bad now.

So when the group leaves the pasture and starts walking down to the nearest track, she approaches the bearded man with a smile and asks what horse she'll be riding.

After a pause, the man laughs and continues walking by the other men.

"Désolé, princess! All out of horses, I'm afraid. Just go back to your room and sew for the rest of summer!" He shouts, amused.

She frowns, watching them walk away. She approaches the pasture again, looking out at the rest of the horses in it, grazing carelessly. Such free lives, if only for a few hours in the morning.

8:22 a.m.

A boy tacks up one of the horses in the pasture and brushes some of the wet grass from her muzzle. Then he guides her by the halter out onto the pebble pathway. On his way, he sees a girl leaning on the pasture fence, looking both sad and angry.

The face amuses him, to say the least.

So he approaches.

"I believe he's intimidated by you," the boy says, gripping the reins of the chestnut horse by his side. "After all, men aren't able to ride bareback as women are. It scares him the power you hold."

And the joke makes the girl laugh a little. So he continues.

"Monsieur Dumont is right about one thing, however. We are out of horses friendly enough for new riders," he informs, looking out at the pasture. Then, he bows his head a little, grinning. The horse next to him whinnies, stamping a hoof on the ground as if to remind the boy of her presence. "Except for this young lady here. Perhaps, if she likes you enough, she'll let you ride her. Do you want to give it a try?"