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Description

Official RidgeRunner Stables storyline.

Featuring:
Baby Christopher Burton
on 021 NRR Hakuna Matata
<'''3

Follows After:

Mature Content

There's a tldr summary of the story below~

Trigger warnings: Anxiety attack, bad/sad feels, self harm

A soft buzz of the lights overhead hummed above the quiet arena. The occasional distant snort carried through the aisleway and bounced around the rafters. It was so quiet otherwise. So quiet, all Chris could hear was his own slowed breathing, the creaking of leather, and how hard his heart thumped inside of his chest.
Seconds turned to minutes. There was a certain kind of stillness that came with this time of day. Morning by technicalities but no one was going to stir at this hour. From traveling so often, Chris was so jet lagged out of his brains, he hardly felt what three in the morning meant anymore. It was just an hour of the day like the rest of them. But it was an hour that no one else would be at the stable. No one to look into the quiet arena to see such a sight.
Hakuna stood as patient as ever. He cocked a hind leg to rest as Chris stood beside him. He had been lazily chewing on his hay but when it was time to work, it was time to work. The horse had long since written off his loyalties to one rider. He cared no more for one than the other after his child he grew up with disappeared for good. Now, there was this other kind of boy standing next to him on the mounting block. Hakuna didn't know this one anymore. Sure, it smelled like the young boy he knew years ago, but that's where the similarities ended. Who was this?

Just get on the horse, Chris.

It should be that easy. Just swing a leg over him like any of the other countless horses he had sat on before. Some with a shred of sanity. At least this one had manners and training between his ears. Nothing was going to happen if he just swung a leg.
Oh, but Chris knew something would happen. He could feel how his stomach was tightening. He could feel his pores start to dilate, a cold sweat clamming up his skin. It felt like he was slipping out of his own body, like even his soul was trying to leave him for dead.
"Shit!" He seethed between grit teeth. All Hakuna had done was swish his tail slightly but the noise made Chris flinch. "Would you not?" He hissed at the horse, giving the reins a good bump like the horse needed some kind of correction. Hakuna didn't react to it. He simply lowered his head to the added pressure, putting his full weight on all his legs if he was supposed to be a little more alert or whatever…
Chris sighed heavily. Why couldn't he do this? At first, sure, it was because his leg had been shattered to pieces. Solid excuse not to want to get back on a horse. But after that? Sure, he had the excuse he was a little nervous after the fact. Sure. But now? It happened a decade ago. Ten years. And yet… just stepping on the mounting block and looking over the saddle like he was going to get on was like looking over a ravine with nothing to hang onto. Like his life was in danger. He was terrified. What did he have to be afraid of? Reliving the incident? He had for years. It played over and over again from where it all started to go wrong right to the point where he eventually lost consciousness from the pain. He was desensitized to it. The actual event didn't weigh on his mind. It was… everything else. Something that wasn't tangible. Something more complex; a deeper sense of guilt and regret that sparked the anxiety to jam its claws around his heart.
"Just fucking do it," he muttered to himself. It annoyed him how much this got to him. It was stupid. It was an accident. It… he didn't mean for any of it to happen.
He pulled the block closer to Hakuna and stepped back on it. He put a foot in the stirrup and leaned forward but he felt Hakuna move. All he did was move a foot to the side to steady himself from the weight of his rider. But that was enough to throw Chris in a spiral off the cliff, into the deep ravine without anything to catch himself. The smallest nudge to tip him over the edge.
He immediately felt his knee go numb. He leaned back to pull his foot out of the stirrup but it was like his leg wasn't even attached anymore. He couldn't even lift it. "Shit-" his voice cracked as he went into some kind of survival mode, void of rational thinking. He whimpered and for a second tried to stand still, regain his balance and grasp at reality. But that didn't last for a blink before he knew he had to get himself out of there. It was too late as his breath turned raspy and shallow.
Chris shoved at the side of Hakuna, tipping himself backwards. He clambered off the mounting block, taking a fall into the sand. It didn't matter at that point. He had to get the fuck away. He crawled until he could get two feet under himself and willed himself onto his feet. It was like bricks were tied to his feet, trudging through the footing of the arena.
"Fucking stop," he tried to verbally control himself. Part of him knew all of this was just made up; an anxiety attack. Nothing bad was actually happening. "Stoooop," he pleaded. He only did when he fell into the siding of the arena. It was too tall to climb over in his state, otherwise who knew how far he would have staggered? He dropped to his knees and turned over so his back was against the kick boards.
He panted hard like he had run a mile even though it was only half the diameter of the arena. He drew his knees to his chest, trying to quell the wave of nausea washing over him. "Fuck," he swore quietly. He felt the lurch in his stomach and only just got turned over, avoiding his lap or his boots with sick. He groaned, staying doubled over a moment longer.
He scooched down further away from the scene now that the nausea had receded. He dropped his head on his knees, covering his head with his arms, resisting the tremors throughout his body. All of this… because his horse moved a foot. He didn't care where the horse went while he was in this state. Where could he go? It was just them in the arena. The silence told him that Hakuna was probably still by the mounting block standing just fine.

The silence was broken by a quiet sob. Chris sniveled pathetically, "I can't do it." He tightened his grip on his head, pushing down further, sinking into the shame and frustration he felt. "I can't."

You're joking. It's just a horse.

"I can't," he sobbed.

You're not eight years old. Grow up.

"I can't," he cried as his shoulders shook.

Get on the fucking horse.

"I can't!" He cried louder.

Get over it! This is stupid!

"I can't!" Louder.

You know this is just all in your head! There's nothing-

"I said I fucking can't!" He shouted. In a split second, he was overcome with violence. Anything to pull himself out of this mental warfare. He slammed a fist against his thigh, right next to where he would forever have the long scar where they pieced his leg back together all those years ago. Again, he punched it harder. Again and again until the next hit started to sting and then again to make sure it really hurt. He didn't stop until it throbbed.
Stupid. He just felt stupid. Like he just snapped out of all of it. He was just some lame excuse of a barely adult, crying alone because he was scared of some horse for a stupid reason, then throwing a tantrum because of what? Because he got scared. Ridiculous. Now his leg was throbbing along with his knuckles. Great.
Annoyed yet again. He rested a hand against his forehead, looking out at the arena, wiping the damn tears off his stupid face. Just as he figured. Hakuna hadn't moved at all. He had his kind eyes and perky ears looking at Chris, hind foot cocked again, not quite sure what the theatrics were all for but completely unbothered. The fire only ever existed in Chris's mind. There was no crisis. There was no emergency. There was no reason.
He glanced down at the knee of the leg he punched the shit out of. He had never reacted that way before. Not towards anyone or himself. What the hell was that all about? He groaned quietly, rolling his eyes. He bet this was something someone like Fang would do. Only maybe with a sharp object, recalling the scars scattered on his arms and legs.
This wasn't good. This wasn't who Chris was. He didn't resort to violence. Sure, he could throw a threat but it wasn't like he'd act on it. Not physically. This was Fang's barbaric behavior. It only made Chris feel more disgusted. Fang was creeping into every facet of his life. This probably stemmed from when he overstepped his bounds and went after Kate and then their fight afterwards that had resolved nothing. He knew being around Fang was a bad idea but this… this was becoming toxic in an uncomfortable way. How could he have expected it to go any other way? Perhaps it was time he stopped purposefully ignoring the warning signs. Time to grow the fuck up.
Chris winced as he stood up again. "Great," he swore under his breath. He really did a number on himself. His thigh was so sore, it was difficult to walk. He kicked sand over his mess, not much more he could do about that… and stiffly hobbled back over to Hakuna. This trial and error was over. He wasn't going to stab at his wounds anymore today. It was clear he still couldn't cope with it. He couldn't cope with the crushing guilt that warped his whole life. This was marking the end of a chapter in his life that he just couldn't rewrite. Maybe it was time to close the whole book. What did he ever expect to come from this anyway?

(1749 wordcount)

tldr;
--Chris tried to get on Hakuna again
--Had a panic attack instead, fun
--Got mad, punched self
--Blames Fang, big mads at Fang

Previous: Who Cares (mature content warning) || Next: Shut It Out

Image is (how Dras likes to do) a complete opposite representation of what's going on here. For those that don't read, they get to see what things were <''3 Happy rainbow times, smiles, fun , joy, bliss~
For those that did read the actual facts, this is more of a representation of a memory crossing the "rainbow bridge" to symbolize its "death". Chris has decided the trauma that he's let the incident evolve into is too great and there's just no way he's getting over it. He's never getting on Hakuna.

Sad : (

But at least I can still draw them together as they were :''D That's how I cope x''D

Oh, Fang's probably in trouble. Just a guess ;

Ah, a side note, I do have a new laptop again (yay, formatting fixed). Did lose everything from 2019-2023 but I'm recovering what I can, picking up my pieces, and moving along. So a nice lil simple whatever this is helps <''3

Chris/Hakuna/Fang/Kate/Art © Drasayer
No specific refs for the joy boys~

Procreate

Description

Official RidgeRunner Stables storyline.

Featuring:
Baby Christopher Burton
on 021 NRR Hakuna Matata
<'''3

Follows After:

Mature Content

There's a tldr summary of the story below~

Trigger warnings: Anxiety attack, bad/sad feels, self harm

A soft buzz of the lights overhead hummed above the quiet arena. The occasional distant snort carried through the aisleway and bounced around the rafters. It was so quiet otherwise. So quiet, all Chris could hear was his own slowed breathing, the creaking of leather, and how hard his heart thumped inside of his chest.
Seconds turned to minutes. There was a certain kind of stillness that came with this time of day. Morning by technicalities but no one was going to stir at this hour. From traveling so often, Chris was so jet lagged out of his brains, he hardly felt what three in the morning meant anymore. It was just an hour of the day like the rest of them. But it was an hour that no one else would be at the stable. No one to look into the quiet arena to see such a sight.
Hakuna stood as patient as ever. He cocked a hind leg to rest as Chris stood beside him. He had been lazily chewing on his hay but when it was time to work, it was time to work. The horse had long since written off his loyalties to one rider. He cared no more for one than the other after his child he grew up with disappeared for good. Now, there was this other kind of boy standing next to him on the mounting block. Hakuna didn't know this one anymore. Sure, it smelled like the young boy he knew years ago, but that's where the similarities ended. Who was this?

Just get on the horse, Chris.

It should be that easy. Just swing a leg over him like any of the other countless horses he had sat on before. Some with a shred of sanity. At least this one had manners and training between his ears. Nothing was going to happen if he just swung a leg.
Oh, but Chris knew something would happen. He could feel how his stomach was tightening. He could feel his pores start to dilate, a cold sweat clamming up his skin. It felt like he was slipping out of his own body, like even his soul was trying to leave him for dead.
"Shit!" He seethed between grit teeth. All Hakuna had done was swish his tail slightly but the noise made Chris flinch. "Would you not?" He hissed at the horse, giving the reins a good bump like the horse needed some kind of correction. Hakuna didn't react to it. He simply lowered his head to the added pressure, putting his full weight on all his legs if he was supposed to be a little more alert or whatever…
Chris sighed heavily. Why couldn't he do this? At first, sure, it was because his leg had been shattered to pieces. Solid excuse not to want to get back on a horse. But after that? Sure, he had the excuse he was a little nervous after the fact. Sure. But now? It happened a decade ago. Ten years. And yet… just stepping on the mounting block and looking over the saddle like he was going to get on was like looking over a ravine with nothing to hang onto. Like his life was in danger. He was terrified. What did he have to be afraid of? Reliving the incident? He had for years. It played over and over again from where it all started to go wrong right to the point where he eventually lost consciousness from the pain. He was desensitized to it. The actual event didn't weigh on his mind. It was… everything else. Something that wasn't tangible. Something more complex; a deeper sense of guilt and regret that sparked the anxiety to jam its claws around his heart.
"Just fucking do it," he muttered to himself. It annoyed him how much this got to him. It was stupid. It was an accident. It… he didn't mean for any of it to happen.
He pulled the block closer to Hakuna and stepped back on it. He put a foot in the stirrup and leaned forward but he felt Hakuna move. All he did was move a foot to the side to steady himself from the weight of his rider. But that was enough to throw Chris in a spiral off the cliff, into the deep ravine without anything to catch himself. The smallest nudge to tip him over the edge.
He immediately felt his knee go numb. He leaned back to pull his foot out of the stirrup but it was like his leg wasn't even attached anymore. He couldn't even lift it. "Shit-" his voice cracked as he went into some kind of survival mode, void of rational thinking. He whimpered and for a second tried to stand still, regain his balance and grasp at reality. But that didn't last for a blink before he knew he had to get himself out of there. It was too late as his breath turned raspy and shallow.
Chris shoved at the side of Hakuna, tipping himself backwards. He clambered off the mounting block, taking a fall into the sand. It didn't matter at that point. He had to get the fuck away. He crawled until he could get two feet under himself and willed himself onto his feet. It was like bricks were tied to his feet, trudging through the footing of the arena.
"Fucking stop," he tried to verbally control himself. Part of him knew all of this was just made up; an anxiety attack. Nothing bad was actually happening. "Stoooop," he pleaded. He only did when he fell into the siding of the arena. It was too tall to climb over in his state, otherwise who knew how far he would have staggered? He dropped to his knees and turned over so his back was against the kick boards.
He panted hard like he had run a mile even though it was only half the diameter of the arena. He drew his knees to his chest, trying to quell the wave of nausea washing over him. "Fuck," he swore quietly. He felt the lurch in his stomach and only just got turned over, avoiding his lap or his boots with sick. He groaned, staying doubled over a moment longer.
He scooched down further away from the scene now that the nausea had receded. He dropped his head on his knees, covering his head with his arms, resisting the tremors throughout his body. All of this… because his horse moved a foot. He didn't care where the horse went while he was in this state. Where could he go? It was just them in the arena. The silence told him that Hakuna was probably still by the mounting block standing just fine.

The silence was broken by a quiet sob. Chris sniveled pathetically, "I can't do it." He tightened his grip on his head, pushing down further, sinking into the shame and frustration he felt. "I can't."

You're joking. It's just a horse.

"I can't," he sobbed.

You're not eight years old. Grow up.

"I can't," he cried as his shoulders shook.

Get on the fucking horse.

"I can't!" He cried louder.

Get over it! This is stupid!

"I can't!" Louder.

You know this is just all in your head! There's nothing-

"I said I fucking can't!" He shouted. In a split second, he was overcome with violence. Anything to pull himself out of this mental warfare. He slammed a fist against his thigh, right next to where he would forever have the long scar where they pieced his leg back together all those years ago. Again, he punched it harder. Again and again until the next hit started to sting and then again to make sure it really hurt. He didn't stop until it throbbed.
Stupid. He just felt stupid. Like he just snapped out of all of it. He was just some lame excuse of a barely adult, crying alone because he was scared of some horse for a stupid reason, then throwing a tantrum because of what? Because he got scared. Ridiculous. Now his leg was throbbing along with his knuckles. Great.
Annoyed yet again. He rested a hand against his forehead, looking out at the arena, wiping the damn tears off his stupid face. Just as he figured. Hakuna hadn't moved at all. He had his kind eyes and perky ears looking at Chris, hind foot cocked again, not quite sure what the theatrics were all for but completely unbothered. The fire only ever existed in Chris's mind. There was no crisis. There was no emergency. There was no reason.
He glanced down at the knee of the leg he punched the shit out of. He had never reacted that way before. Not towards anyone or himself. What the hell was that all about? He groaned quietly, rolling his eyes. He bet this was something someone like Fang would do. Only maybe with a sharp object, recalling the scars scattered on his arms and legs.
This wasn't good. This wasn't who Chris was. He didn't resort to violence. Sure, he could throw a threat but it wasn't like he'd act on it. Not physically. This was Fang's barbaric behavior. It only made Chris feel more disgusted. Fang was creeping into every facet of his life. This probably stemmed from when he overstepped his bounds and went after Kate and then their fight afterwards that had resolved nothing. He knew being around Fang was a bad idea but this… this was becoming toxic in an uncomfortable way. How could he have expected it to go any other way? Perhaps it was time he stopped purposefully ignoring the warning signs. Time to grow the fuck up.
Chris winced as he stood up again. "Great," he swore under his breath. He really did a number on himself. His thigh was so sore, it was difficult to walk. He kicked sand over his mess, not much more he could do about that… and stiffly hobbled back over to Hakuna. This trial and error was over. He wasn't going to stab at his wounds anymore today. It was clear he still couldn't cope with it. He couldn't cope with the crushing guilt that warped his whole life. This was marking the end of a chapter in his life that he just couldn't rewrite. Maybe it was time to close the whole book. What did he ever expect to come from this anyway?

(1749 wordcount)

tldr;
--Chris tried to get on Hakuna again
--Had a panic attack instead, fun
--Got mad, punched self
--Blames Fang, big mads at Fang

Previous: Who Cares (mature content warning) || Next: Shut It Out

Image is (how Dras likes to do) a complete opposite representation of what's going on here. For those that don't read, they get to see what things were <''3 Happy rainbow times, smiles, fun , joy, bliss~
For those that did read the actual facts, this is more of a representation of a memory crossing the "rainbow bridge" to symbolize its "death". Chris has decided the trauma that he's let the incident evolve into is too great and there's just no way he's getting over it. He's never getting on Hakuna.

Sad : (

But at least I can still draw them together as they were :''D That's how I cope x''D

Oh, Fang's probably in trouble. Just a guess ;

Ah, a side note, I do have a new laptop again (yay, formatting fixed). Did lose everything from 2019-2023 but I'm recovering what I can, picking up my pieces, and moving along. So a nice lil simple whatever this is helps <''3

Chris/Hakuna/Fang/Kate/Art © Drasayer
No specific refs for the joy boys~

Procreate