Regine von Carstein
Regine had been getting used to the cantor of the horse, its gait, the way the world seemed more distant as she was elevated into the saddle. She had never really been around horses that much, but had always thought they were beautiful animals - and now that she was this upclose and riding one? Her affection was growing. Periodically she'd reach down and affectionately rub the broad, muscular neck of the beast atop whom she rode.
Staying in position, nodding out and waving at Wulf as he rode twenty yards away.
"Yes!" she'd yell out; staying focused, her body coiled and ready and then - she swung to the side of the saddle. She withdrew her right foot from the stirrup and brought her leg up and over the back of the horse, half-crouching behind the best. Awkward and unpractised in her efforts, she seemed to pull off the maneuverer.