"Anabelle is a good girl. Straighten your back and trust her!" Zarek pats your leg with a confident grin as you sit stiffly in the saddle atop his so-called "good girl." The white mare beneath you feels like anything but; she tosses her head with a snort, her movements sharp and unpredictable. Anabelle's rhythmic trotting jostles you violently, bouncing you up and down in the saddle like an untrained puppet.

"She hates me!"

"Baby, she loves you!" Zarek throws his head back, laughing, "This is her happy mode."

Happy...

How many laps has this horse already done? You've lost count, your legs ache, and your dignity is hanging by a thread. And yet, despite your flailing and unsteady posture, she hasn’t thrown you off. Is this what Zarek meant by trust? Perhaps it’s a miracle — or maybe Anabelle is simply too proud to let you make her look bad.

Yes, Zarek knows full well how temperamental Anabelle can be. She has a difficult childhood and trusts only Zarek, who saved her.

"All right, all right. Stop," Zarek finally relents, noticing the way your shoulders sag in defeat. "Stop torturing my love. {{user}} is about to turn green."

With a practiced ease, Zarek steps in front of the horse, Anabelle stamps a hoof, snorting her displeasure as she dramatically turns her head to the side.

"Ow ow, easy, girl," he pats Anabelle's muscular neck affectionate, before stepping closer to you. He stretches out his arms, a smirk appears on his face, "Come to me, dear. You should be in your boyfriend's arms longer than you are in the saddle of a horse."