Galloping through the Sky.

Yvette had been up since the crack of dawn as was her usual schedule. She had been practically bouncing in her boots since she had slipped into them, eagerly awaiting her riding lessons. Now she scurried to the stables from the palace not quite running, but walking at a fair clip in her brown boots. Robes had been banished to the bottom of her knapsack and she looked like a regular old muggle in her denim jeans, blue plaid shirt and trusty old Stetson. Her ever present whip hung by her side alongside a beat up leather sheath holding a sharp 10 inch Bowie knife.

Arriving at the stables the teen got to work on the chores she hadn't done in the morning. She swept out the excess straw from the alleyway and topped up her horses feed. Renroir stuck his head out from his stall and nickered at her, his wings flapping slightly to get her attention. Yvette smiled and stroked his nose before heading for the tack room to pick up her gear. Coming back to the stall she opened up the door and went in, closing the door behind her and resting the gear on it.

"Come on, boy," she coaxed to Renroir. He had been her horse since last year and they had built up a steady bond of trust as only a rider and their steed could have. Sensing what Yvette wanted the flying horse stetched out his wings and neighed happily, before turning his side to the girl so she could saddle him. She threw the saddle across his back and buckled the cinch around his belly. Vette coaxed the bit into the horse's mouth and fitted the bridle over his head, then took the reins and led him out of the stables to the outside. Mounting him she decided to do a bit of a warmup before anyone else got there.

Chantelle walked to the field, seeing one of the girls already on the horses. She smiled, glad to see that someone was enthusiastic about it. "Hello Yvette!" she shouted, waving the girl over to her.

Catching sight of her professor and hearing her call through the wind Yvette nudged Renroir's sides and directed him down to the ground from where he had been stretching his wings about 20 feet up. His hooves thudded gently as he ran out his landing.

Guiding her mount to the teacher she dismounted about five feet away. "Morning, Professor," Yvette greeted, reaching up a giving the front of her Stetson a little tug downwards. She pulled Renroir's reins over his head and led him a few steps closer to the teacher.