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While sitting on your horse, you watched a man ride on some sort of contraption that seemed to pick and store crops in an extremely quick fashion. You held a sigh of astonishment.

This place was extraordinarily magical. You remind yourself that you should record this in a diary. In contrast to the warm feeling of wonder, the animal beneath you seemed disturbed. You didn't really understand it, and it was doing the same swaying it did while you were feeding it yesterday.

It didn't kick you off, nore had it been difficult when you were tending to it earlier.
What an odd beast.

Beside that, It was nicely warm during the day, but at night it was cold. You almost felt ill and debated going to get medicine in the town in a few hours.

" Goodday. " Greeted a voice.
Oh. You had been staring at the farmer for quite a while... You felt your cheeks heat up.

" Hullo. Sire. "
" Are you here to wake snakes? "
You shook your head, smiling a little. " No need, Sire. I stay across the street. Am I a bother? "

He didn't answer straight away. You lifted your head and looked behind you.
Huh. Your neighbor had a new mule and cow.

" Yours? "

" No. Next door. "
The farmer hummed and departed with a small wave. You waved back and urged for your horse to walk forward instead. Mmm..

Well this place is very boring. It is perfect!
Townsfolk would trip over themselves to get a look into the new eye that is the clean life.

Back at home, it was all factories, smog and the power lines crowded the sky so that the sun never seemed to fully rise, but did indeed fall. These "D.C." powerhouses every 100 feet. What a joke! The sun was here. And 'here' was incredibly bright. Less fires, too.

When you got inside, you stripped the room down for that careless little journal. Upon finding it you impatiently wrote jumbled accounts down and then start off clean and detailed with todays abouts.

"Change cultivates hugely in the farmlands.
No-body is awake to see it. "

You tried your very best to draw what was your horse, but it really wasn't just any horse. This one was bred specifically for moving things. Not like any elegant, prancing Arabians. Those were lovely of course, but these were Friesian horses.

Your print horse ended up looking more like a moose, but they'll understand.

You stared outside your window at your horse and saw your lovely male neighbor step from the porch with a parasol in his hand.

He has the right idea. However it took you a moment to spot that your horse wordlessly erupted into madness, almost taking the wooden pew with it. Ahh, lord!
You excited your home and waved at your horse wildly, trying to stutter out something reasonable to calm it.

It ignored both your and his cries and outstretched hands, and in a last act of defense, the male grabbed ahold of your shoulders and removed you from direct impact of a distressed 16 hand horse. When it was quiet enough for you to open your eyes, of which you had no recollection of closing, your horse was standing completely still and.. not breathing it seemed.

Your neighbor's husband.. or maybe, brother, had his hand placed kindly on the beast's abdomen, the other hand holding his beloved umbrella.

"I greatly apologize, Lord. " Well not only were you two improperly introduced to eachother, you're talking to a male alone, without HIS wife.... aaand you were in great disservice because of your hysteric pony. For the same of all that was good. It feels like you should be sent to a pillory - This embarrassment on top of embarrassment. The only thing you knew to do was gawk at him, and muster a measly bow from your place on the floor.

He couldn't quite tell if you were wearing modern clothing, or were displaying a sore attempt of fashion. No ridiculous crinoline, but tight.. sleeves, white gloves. You took his silence in great detail. Hopefully his wife didn't witness you interacting... If there's one thing you did know offhand, its that smaller town people gossip is venomous.

" You're awfully fashionable, Miss. "
Well, he didn't know much about clothing. He wears whatever he can get ahold of these days, while people do glance at him funny for his rather outdated getup, there was no commotion like what he's witnessing. Meanwhile, you're completely dumbfounded. This is the normal suit for riding, albeit expensive - but what riding outfit wasn't? They're bespoke and about as largely costly as the saddles.

Not wanting to keep him, you rose and maintained proper greeting and departure actions. You hoped he did not observe your look of horror as you replanted the very, very still horses' tie and chain.

" Goodday, My lord. " You bowed one last time and absconded back into the house, quivering in your boots. What a mess, thankfully no-one else saw you two.

Did they?

-

[A/N]

Popular attire for a riding Lady in the 19th century.

I want the reader to be gender inclusive but old times makes it so DIFFICULT

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I want the reader to be gender inclusive but old times makes it so DIFFICULT. Unfortunately I may sacrifice accuracy for accessibility though-out the story. But you must understand the victorians were an odd bunch.

You're also to ride sidesaddle, which is incredibly difficult. Especially because of those long gowns wtf were the victorians thinking. However fashion rapidly changed during this era, literally 5 years would go by and the fashion would be drastically different. I would compare it to our fashion every 20 years. And for us, our reuse of old clothes is considered cute or cool. For them you were a poor, disgusting rat.

lol imagine marx writing das kapital while you're being tragically embraced by a vampire. So fucking crazy

 So fucking crazy

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