With Isabella's hand on my shoulder as support, she guided me in a lap of the room. My beginning steps were taken with trepidation, as despite my experimentations with my new footwear while supported by the bench, taking steps under my own weight was a great step up in difficulty. But with Isabella's hand and encouragements, I didn't felt unsupported.
As we made our way around the room I found my confidence and comfort in walking increase. I slowly adjusted to my new balance and cadence.
While walking atop normal feet, one could rely on the momentum of your stride to carry you forward into your next step. But now, with arms restrained and my overall posture now bend forward at the waist, I found each step to be a whole process to think and move through. Raise leg, balance on the other, my leg down as flat as I could on the ground. Once back on two, forced to re-establish my balance, as trying to step immediately into the next was a quick way to fall into Isabella's arms. Which while enjoyable, said feeling was also the reason embarrassment forced me to avoid repeat such a fall.
I also found my steps to be much noisier. Each time I placed my foot, hoof, down it made a distinctive clop of steel hitting concrete. The real horse shoe tacked into my hoof coming down on the floor of the tack room. Even at my ginger pace, it created a clopping gate surprisingly like that of a real horse's steps.
Together, Isabella and I made three complete circuits of the room, and on that third I was starting to feel rather confident in my ability to walk as a ponygirl, and by extension feeling more confident as a ponygirl generally. It didn't seem that hard so far. After this final lap and returning to our starting point near the bench, Isabella came around in front of me,
"Very good girl."
My reply was to awkwardly to and half grin through my bit.
"I don't know if you remember from last night, but ponygirls use their hooves to communicate. One stamp for 'yes', two stamps of 'no'. Understand?"
Easily recalling this paradigm from my chat with Lily, I eagerly stamped a Yes in response.
"Wonderful, now four stamps is to tell us that you need to go pee, we don't want you just going anywhere."
This caught me off guard. Not only the extra word in my new vocabulary, but also that thought that even my bladder was now under control. I reached my leg to respond but stop at its apex when I realized I did know how to response to her statement. I didn't really know how to feel and neither yes nor no felt appropriate. Thus I slowly, and a bit shamefully, lowered my leg down, careful to place it as gently on the floor as I could to not convey a 'yes'. It still made a slight click.
Isabella grinned in response,
"I'll give you your answer. Three stamps is an 'I don't know' or a 'unsure' response. It doesn't come up much because pony's do what they are told, but it's useful sometimes."
Now I was a bit annoyed. Obviously I should've connected that there was some other phase between two stamps and four, but Isabella had told them to me out of order just to mess with me. Thus, my response this time was more enthused.
Stamp.
I did so quickly and with more force than before, but trying to look like a was giving less effort. My best approximation of a sarcastic, Yes. I underscored this with a glare of annoyance at Isabella as I did so from beneath my bridal. All I got in reply was a laugh and,
"There, now and you're starting getting the subtleties!"
I huffed. Maybe it took more than a little walking around to learn how to be a ponygirl.
Isabella then stepped away from me to retrieve a long leather line with a pair of clips on one end. Returning, without a word she attached each of these clips to either side of my bit. Once attached, Isabella took a couple steps back so I could see her holding the lead loosely in her hands. From which the line of leather arc down through its slack hanging between us before returning up and out of my vision and it came to my face. She broke my observation by finally addressing me,
"Alright, now we'll really teach you how to walk."
With this she took another step back, bring the lead to just less than taut. Then with a flick of her wrist, she gave it a little tug. But to my surprise this little movement was felt immediately and acutely in on bridal, most intensely via my bit. The metal plate in my month pivoted to apply pressure to the roof of my mouth. Instinctively, I took a step forward to alleviate the discomfort in my mouth.
Seeing my reaction, one she seemed to have been expecting, Isabella grinned at me. I on the other hand was a rather taken aback by the control the lead implied. Instead of all that had come before working to restrict my movements, the attachment of the lead suddenly gave Isabella the power to dictate my movement.
But like my initial reaction to my boots, it was a situation I found quite intriguing. Trying to show my eagerness, I took another step forward. Closing the gap with Isabella, and returning the line to its slackened curve. In response, Isabella raised an eyebrow in question to which I replied with an affirmative thump.
With this Isabella turned and began walking slowly out of the tack room. This caused my lead to once more pull taut, inducing me to follow. But as Isabella kept moving the pressure was kept up, constantly leading me on. Luckily Isabella kept her pace slow, allowing me to follow at the comfortable pace I could currently manage.
In this arrangement I was led out of the tack room where we turned off from the central corridor and took a back door out of the barn. As I stepped into the daylight I was briefly blinded by the brightness of the day after the dim light of inside. I slowed my pace as I adjusted, Isabella too slowed, glancing back at me as my eyes recovered.
Once I could see, and Isabella resumed pulling me along, I had a chance to take my new surroundings, the previously unseen far side of the barn from the house. The first thing I noticed, even before my eyes had fully adjusted, was that we were now on cobblestones which made up a kind of courtyard area backing the barn. Extending from one side of the bar was a shed looking building, its roof lower than the barn it adjoined. On the other side of the courtyard, adjacent the barn's wall was a set of out door stalls. Looking into these I could see them to be more bare than the ones inside yet sporting a series of hoses, leading me to guess that these were so kind of showing station. Finally on the far side of the courtyard, was a path leading to the fields I had seen earlier alongside a set of smaller paddocks.
In fact, I realized Isabella was leading towards one of these smaller paddocks now. As we draw nearer, my eyes were caught by the contraption at its centre. Sticking up from the ground was a pole, and sticking out from the top of this pole were four bars reaching out parallel to the ground at a height a couple feet above mine. As I was pondering its function, Isabella had reach the paddock's gate and had stopped to unlock it.
Unfortunately, distracted by my wonderings at the courtyard and paddock, I didn't realized this until I was coming up right behind her. Stumbling into her as I tried to stop at the last second, knocking her into fence. Instinctively, trying to fix my mistake, I went to reach for her to brake her fall, but lacking my arms, this only served to hasten my own descent towards the ground.
Luckily, I had another set of hands to arrest my fall. Isabella, having easily recovered from my bump, steadying me by grabbing on to my shoulders. Then with the strength she had alluded to over dinner, she easily set me upright back on my feet. And with a hands still firm in my shoulders she brought her face close inline with mine.
"That's your first lesson of walking as a pony: always pay attention to your handler. You are heavily restrained, and especially now in the beginning, rather vulnerable. Thus, you are reliant on us to take care of you, but you have to respect us back, trust in us and follow our lead in your care. Make sense?"
I felt even more guilty at my mistake and carelessness. I lower my head as I responded with a dejected thump, Yes.
Isabella furthered lower she body and head, bring her face down to were my down cast eyes where pointed, reconnecting our gazes,
"It's alright, it's alright. Mistakes happen, you're learning and all that just happened just now is that you learned a lesson. I'm fine and you're fine, right?"
Thump, Yes.
"Then, shall we get on with walking?"
Thump, Yes!
With that, Isabella tugged me on through the now open gate, into the paddock, and led me to below one of the arms of the contraption. She then reached up and fasten the lead to some hooks on the end of the rod. As she did this she explained,
"This is a hot walker. It will rotate and pull you along in a circle at a constant pace. It's really good for teaching young foals a proper walk since it takes out all other variables."
Once I was secured, Isabella retreated to a panel attached to the fence, out of range of the arc of the arms, and opening up the panel's door flipped and switch or somethings, waking to the hot walker into life. Slowly it began to rotate, pulling my lead out in front of me. I had only about a second to note this before the walker's arm had pulled my lead taut and I was forced to join in its circle.
It started off quite slow, slower than Isabella had walked me over here, and in fact she soon joined me, leisurely striding along beside me. Having given me a minute to adjust, Isabella began her instruction,
"Now a pony doesn't walk like a person, dragging our feet along just above the ground. Instead, a pony is proud. She lifts her leg all the way up, her thigh up parallel to the ground at the apex of each step."
Trying to incorporate her instructions into my stride, I quickly found it be quite difficult. While I had noticed and somewhat adjusted to how my pony boots needed me to walk, this 'proper' pony walking felt like a much greater effort. When Isabella had first explained it, I had thought of army marching as a mental image, but doing it now felt like a walking outside of human convention. Consequently, I quickly stumbled and necessarily slowed down, but the hot walking didn't and the feeling of its pull sharply increased. This swiftly inducing me to catch up, with only the slight assist by Isabella with a hand on my back.
