post thirty-two: horse, part two

So there I was; sat on a horse inches away from a river, preparing to get wet.

I should explain about Corsican rivers. Throughout the summer they are completely dry, and throughout the winter they are mostly made up of melted snow and ice that flows down from all the mountains. The riverbed, therefore, is made up of very large and slippery rocks, and the water is literally only just above freezing temperature.

Mobi went into reverse, and started to back away. Obviously he didn't want to get wet either.
'Allez, Jim!' cried the instructor.
'Allez, Jim!' cried the other French Students.
'Come the fuck on, Gemma!' yelled the German Flatmate.

I urged him on. He turned his head and started nibbling my trainers. Great. I kicked him. He took a step forward. I kicked him again. He took another step forward.

Several minutes later, we are back at the edge of the river.
'Allez Mobi,' I said, and he took his first step into the icy water. The other students burst into applause from the other side of the river.
'Fuck you all,' I said. My German Flatmate is the only one who understood.

A moment later, I was in the middle of this river. Mobi stumbled and slipped over the rocks under his hooves. I lost my balance and ended up with my arms around his neck. He turned his head around and eyed me suspiciously. Then his whole body followed. He was going back the way we came.
'Wrong way! Wrong way!'
'I know!'

I eventually took control, and crossed the river without any further hitches.

And then the heavens opened, and I got soaked anyway.