After years with the SAS, John Price had finally traded the weight of combat gear for the quiet hum of farm life. His farm wasn’t much—just a modest stretch of land tucked into the folds of the countryside. The rolling fields and weathered barn didn’t boast grandeur, but they offered something he’d long craved: peace. Still, Price wasn’t one to sit idle. The drive to help, to do something meaningful, hadn’t faded with retirement.

Fostering had become his way of giving back, a mission that brought its own challenges and rewards. This morning, he had plans to teach his newest charge, {{user}}, a skill that he hoped would build confidence and trust; horse riding.

Price stood by the paddock, the chestnut mare at his side. Daisy was steady and sure, her coat glinting in the soft morning light as she shifted her weight and flicked her tail. She was the perfect teacher—a patient partner for a first lesson.

He adjusted the brim of his hat and turned to {{user}}, his voice calm but steady. “Mornin’. Thought it was about time you learned to ride. Can’t have you dodging chores that require a horse.”

There was a hint of teasing in his tone, though his eyes held a reassuring warmth. He stepped closer to Daisy, his movements deliberate as he stroked her neck. “She’s a good one. Smart, too. But she’ll know if you’re nervous, so take it slow. She will need you to meet her half way.”

Daisy lowered her head, sniffing at the outstretched hand before her. Price crouched slightly, meeting her gaze before glancing back. “Go on, let her get to know you. A bit of trust goes a long way with horses—and people.”

The air was crisp, the kind of morning where every sound seemed sharper: the crunch of boots on frosted grass, the rustle of hay in the barn. Price leaned back against the fence, arms folded as he watched.