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Description
Edit: Added the story if anyone is interested. The story was rp'd after I drew the pic, sadly, or I would've drawn Nathan looking very green around the gills.

Entry for this show:
Decor Showjumping Show
Running: July 11 - Oct 11 2012
Event Type: Showjumping
Discipline: Showjumping Level 1-9, Derby and 2 funclasses
Restrictions: For realistic breeds only

:new: :new: 10 days left! No extentions!

Rules
:star:PLEASE READ THE RULES!:star:
1. All art must be coloured, flat colours are allowed, but shading is preferred.
2. No photomanipulations, lineart or photo backgrounds! Detailed backgrounds are not required.
3. Stories are not necessary, but will get you extra points.
4. Tracing is not allowed.
5. No fantasy breeds, please.
6. There is no limit to how many times a stable can enter a class, but each horse can enter a class o
Everyone check it out, it's gonna be a blast!

Terrible title, I apologize xD

Class entered: Decor Derby
Number: 5
Name: Obi Wan Kenobi [link]
Name of Rider: Nathan Moore
Age: 12
Breed: Australian Warmblood
Gender: Gelding

---Story---

Nathan felt terrible. Not emotionally terrible...sick terrible. Throwing up his innards terrible. His stomach was doing flips as he popped Ben over the smaller practice jumps in the warm-up arena that belonged to the Decor Stud. How in the world was he supposed to jump a full course, a DERBY course, when he felt like he would lose his lunch at any second? Not to mention this was his first derby course. In fact, it was his first show in general on this particular horse. Just great. The spectators were going to be in for a show they didn't pay to see if he couldn't hold his nausea off the entire round.

The only good thing about this ordeal was that Obi Wan Kenobi, or, Ben as the gelding was more affectionately referred to, was a very reliable and seasoned jumper. He figured it would be his only saving grace. All he had to do was point Ben in the right direction, hang on tight and keep his mouth clamped shut. As he walked out of the warm up arena the speakers crackled to life with a bit of static, one horse with its rider shying to the side nervously at the sudden noise.

"Rider number 5, Nathan Moore riding Obi Wan Kenobi is up next."

Taking that as his sign that it was now or never, he cued the flaxen chestnut into a smooth trot. Thank God Ben's gaits were smooth or he wouldn't be doing this. He would have just driven all the way to Texas for no reason but to endure a long car ride and sweat in the Texas heat. Pointing Ben to a spot near the first jump he cantered a courtesy circle.

The bell rang shortly after and he swallowed hard, fighting off the nausea before cuing the gelding into a faster pace as they approached the first jump. Ben jumped it like a star, hooves snapping up under himself and head tucked in. Nathan, on the other hand...well...all he wanted to do was curl in on himself. His back was bowed and he was beginning to cold sweat through his undershirt. His mount seemed to notice something was off and began to slow down for his rider, but immediately picked his pace back up as Nathan urged him on. If he was going to endure this, then he was going to at least try his hardest, no matter how he felt.

The rest of the jumps went by in a blur. Literally a blur since his eyes weren't focusing properly, and he really didn't know, or care at this point, if he had downed any poles. His position was terrible, he knew it, but the waves of nausea were forcing him to sit awkwardly in the saddle and he was lucky enough just to still be seated. By the last jump he didn't know if he could hold how he felt off much longer, his stomach was heaving against the rocking motion of Ben's canter and when the gelding jumped his body gave a pang of nausea, causing his foot to slip out of the stirrup as he landed and he pitched foreword. Luckily, he caught himself on the chestnut's shoulder as Ben automatically slowed himself to a trot. Slipping his foot back in the stirrup he didn't take his time exiting the arena. He could feel it coming, the sour, metallic taste appearing in his mouth. Briskly trotting Ben out of the exit gate he went straight to the first garbage can he saw and emptied the contents of his stomach into it while still on his horse.
--------

No ref

Art and characters (c)
Do NOT copy, steal or redistribute

Description
Edit: Added the story if anyone is interested. The story was rp'd after I drew the pic, sadly, or I would've drawn Nathan looking very green around the gills.

Entry for this show:
Decor Showjumping Show
Running: July 11 - Oct 11 2012
Event Type: Showjumping
Discipline: Showjumping Level 1-9, Derby and 2 funclasses
Restrictions: For realistic breeds only

:new: :new: 10 days left! No extentions!

Rules
:star:PLEASE READ THE RULES!:star:
1. All art must be coloured, flat colours are allowed, but shading is preferred.
2. No photomanipulations, lineart or photo backgrounds! Detailed backgrounds are not required.
3. Stories are not necessary, but will get you extra points.
4. Tracing is not allowed.
5. No fantasy breeds, please.
6. There is no limit to how many times a stable can enter a class, but each horse can enter a class o
Everyone check it out, it's gonna be a blast!

Terrible title, I apologize xD

Class entered: Decor Derby
Number: 5
Name: Obi Wan Kenobi [link]
Name of Rider: Nathan Moore
Age: 12
Breed: Australian Warmblood
Gender: Gelding

---Story---

Nathan felt terrible. Not emotionally terrible...sick terrible. Throwing up his innards terrible. His stomach was doing flips as he popped Ben over the smaller practice jumps in the warm-up arena that belonged to the Decor Stud. How in the world was he supposed to jump a full course, a DERBY course, when he felt like he would lose his lunch at any second? Not to mention this was his first derby course. In fact, it was his first show in general on this particular horse. Just great. The spectators were going to be in for a show they didn't pay to see if he couldn't hold his nausea off the entire round.

The only good thing about this ordeal was that Obi Wan Kenobi, or, Ben as the gelding was more affectionately referred to, was a very reliable and seasoned jumper. He figured it would be his only saving grace. All he had to do was point Ben in the right direction, hang on tight and keep his mouth clamped shut. As he walked out of the warm up arena the speakers crackled to life with a bit of static, one horse with its rider shying to the side nervously at the sudden noise.

"Rider number 5, Nathan Moore riding Obi Wan Kenobi is up next."

Taking that as his sign that it was now or never, he cued the flaxen chestnut into a smooth trot. Thank God Ben's gaits were smooth or he wouldn't be doing this. He would have just driven all the way to Texas for no reason but to endure a long car ride and sweat in the Texas heat. Pointing Ben to a spot near the first jump he cantered a courtesy circle.

The bell rang shortly after and he swallowed hard, fighting off the nausea before cuing the gelding into a faster pace as they approached the first jump. Ben jumped it like a star, hooves snapping up under himself and head tucked in. Nathan, on the other hand...well...all he wanted to do was curl in on himself. His back was bowed and he was beginning to cold sweat through his undershirt. His mount seemed to notice something was off and began to slow down for his rider, but immediately picked his pace back up as Nathan urged him on. If he was going to endure this, then he was going to at least try his hardest, no matter how he felt.

The rest of the jumps went by in a blur. Literally a blur since his eyes weren't focusing properly, and he really didn't know, or care at this point, if he had downed any poles. His position was terrible, he knew it, but the waves of nausea were forcing him to sit awkwardly in the saddle and he was lucky enough just to still be seated. By the last jump he didn't know if he could hold how he felt off much longer, his stomach was heaving against the rocking motion of Ben's canter and when the gelding jumped his body gave a pang of nausea, causing his foot to slip out of the stirrup as he landed and he pitched foreword. Luckily, he caught himself on the chestnut's shoulder as Ben automatically slowed himself to a trot. Slipping his foot back in the stirrup he didn't take his time exiting the arena. He could feel it coming, the sour, metallic taste appearing in his mouth. Briskly trotting Ben out of the exit gate he went straight to the first garbage can he saw and emptied the contents of his stomach into it while still on his horse.
--------

No ref

Art and characters (c)
Do NOT copy, steal or redistribute