"Since you're so eager t'ride somethin', I'd like t'see what you've got."

She takes another swig before reluctantly handing the flask back to him.

"Unless you've got performance anxiety?"

She calmly digs in a back pocket, fishing out a pair of leather riding gloves. Beaut's been waiting patiently all this time, but she's starting to sidestep, anxious to get going.