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"What the...?!" The drunken man stumbled backwards, towards the tavern. "Hector, come look at this!" The sound of a door opening and banging shut was followed by the crunch of footsteps in the dark. A moment after they stopped, a low whistle was produced in admiration at the absurdity of the sight. "How do you think it knows how to do that?" The man called Hector asked. "Beats me," the first grumbled, the novelty of scene quickly wearing off as he realized they might very well be blamed for it, "but we better get them all back before someone comes out and sees." The horse hadn't even looked up at the sound of voices, but as the men drew near, it raised its head and whinnied softly a them. The black horse on the other side of the stall snorted and the palomino lowered its head to lip at the latch again. Hector's friend cursed and lengthened his stride, but before he could reach the stables the black horse was loose and trotting over to the six other free horses loitering around the tavern's yard. The man reached out to grab the horse but there were no bridle to catch and the creature simply pulled its head back, out of the way. This proved to be a problem and after several more attempts, it was apparent another course of action must be taken. He looked back over his shoulder at Hector. "What exactly am I going to do with it?" "To the Abyss if I know," Hector hissed as he lead a loose bay back to its stall. The man turned back to glare at the horse who had narrowed its eyes and pinched its lips. "Now listen here," he paused and crouched down for a moment before popping back up, "Listen here, Missy. You need to be behaving here, you hear me?" The horse backed up a couple places, tail swishing. He frowned for a moment but quickly brightened as a thought occurred to him. "Hector, how much do you think a horse that can open latches is worth?" The recently freed black stallion was proving to be a bit difficult and Hector hardly looked back at the man. "Worth a lot of trouble if you ask me. Help me get this horse back to its damn stall, Mercu." Mercu scowled and pointed a finger at the palomino mare. "You stay," he mumbled and stumbled, for he was still full of drink, over to his friend. With two strange men circling it, the stallion flattened its ears and began to swish its tail. It pranced around as the men struggled to get ahold of it. "Now go to the left.... no no, the horse's left.... Damnit, don't move so fast Mercu... Look, you spooked it again! Don�t swing at it like that. Watch those hooves, Mercu... Mercu, watch those hooves!� There was a crashing sound as the man flew backwards and smashed into several nearby rain barrels. The yard was quickly washed with water, the ground turning muddy and unsafe. Cries came up from the tavern and the yard was flooded with light as the patrons pushed out to see what was going on. �They�re damn horse thieves!� Someone shouted, for it was truly an incriminating scene. Hector quickly raised his hands and backed away from the still panicked stallion while Mercu rolled about in the mud, groaning something about broken ribs. �Now, now... stay calm, sir. This isn�t what it looks like. We weren�t stealing no horses, no sir. We weren�t, now were we, Mercu?� A groan and some muttering about damn horses rose up from the mud. �It wasn�t us, honest. There- there was another horse. It opened the stalls. Mercu, where did that horse go? It was the horse, I swear it!� But there was no other horse. With light filling the yard, the only animal outside the stalls that could be seen were a couple of sheep and the black stallion. �Uh-huh, sure,� The man who owned the stallion said, �Some ghost horse opened the stalls and so you thought you�d just make off with my Black Beauty since he was just wandering around. Someone get a rope. We�ll show these lying scum what we do with horse thievers around here!� As the menacing crowd approached, the fresh tracks of a horse in the mud were quickly blurred and then completely obliterated by a mob of human footprints... ~*~ A young horse, somewhere in-between a filly and a mare, trotted across the open plains. It slowed down every now and then to graze, but in overall moved with determination in an east-ward direction. The high grass had wiped most the mud off its legs and the fresh air had cleared away the memory of the tavern almost immediately. All that remained was the knowledge that she was still looking. The horse hadn�t meant to bring trouble to the men, but she had to see the other horses. The young horse desired to find her dam and knew that it would be somewhere within the vicinity of men. When she had found the other horses in the small cages she sensed their unhappiness. She too had had bad experiences with locked stalls. After a time of staring at them as she simply stood in the comforting presence of her kind she �saw� the latch. Blurred and disjointed thoughts of the past flitted through her mind. She remembered such things and the rewards she gotten for opening them. Lowering her head, a gentle lipping easily lifted the latch and allowed the stall door to swing open. Immediately the horse raised her head, ears flicking about, and looked for the man and the reward he normally gave her for such stunning feats of intellect. After a couple of moments the horse lowered her head in a dejected manner. She remembered that the man wasn�t there any more, that she had left him hanging at the end of a rope as she had been lead away on her own length of rope. There was sadness that the man was no longer there, but it was fleeting as her attention was drawn to the other horses. The following latches were easy enough to open and provided her companionship with her brethren. But now the horse was alone again, wandering the wide no-man�s-land between the cities that were scattered about the land. The sun was at its height when the plains were slowly being crowded by trees and bird calls began to fill the air as she passed into a forest. The sight of a squirrel gathering nuts below the tree drew the horse to a stop. Once again, her ears pricked up with memories of past happiness. She fairly danced over to the squirrel, head and tail held high, but had hardly taken ten steps when the squirrel caught sight of her and shot up the tree. Fearing she had done something wrong, she lowered her head and waited for a nut or two to be tossed down and hit her. No punishment rained down from the branches. The horse tilted her head to the side and peered up at the tree. Her squirrel was not there. She tried to remember what had happened to it... -=- ... �Fiend, villain!� a shrill voice cried out from beneath the horses hooves and the filly danced backwards in fear. The words did not make sense to her yet, but she understood a scolding tone when it was directed at her. A streak of brown fur shot out from almost beneath one hoof and up a tree. �Step on me, will you!?� A flying projectile soared out from somewhere in the tree�s branches and connected with the horses nose. She squealed and pranced back even farther. �That�s right! Shoo, you evil devil-hose!� A second nut was tossed from the tree, missed the horse, but sent the filly fleeing. Reaching the man, she circled him and butted her head against him. Standing up, he reached out to stroke her nose. �What�s wrong girl? Ah, looking at the tree are you? What�s this bump here? You met Ticca-Ticca then?� His chuckle and the soothing sound of his voice calmed the horse. At peace now, she wandered over to her mare�s side and began to graze... ... The filly was on high alert as she moved through the forest. She kept her head low and nosed through the thick ferns and undergrowth. She was searching for a particular plant and the smell of it would not be hard to miss. Always she and her dam had accompanied the man on his hunts for a variety of herbs. After over year of watching him find a particular plant, put it in the baskets he tied to both horses�s flanks, and being rewarded a treat of sugar, oats, or some other delicacy and doubly rewarding her dam for bringing one over herself, the filly was beginning to make the connection. She had originally tried to simply bring a clump of nearby ferns she had bitten, but apparently they we not reward-worthy. Only particular plants, most smelly and of the variety that she would never normally graze on, would do. A yapping filled the forest and the horse snapped her head up. Being raised by the man, she had never known predators, but her horse instincts were enough to warn her. She pushed forward as fast as she could through the dense forest. The yapping sounded closer, and the small filly was quickly filling with fear as she burst into the open clearing that surrounded the large blue-leafed tree. The evil nut-chucking squirrel was not present and did not even cross the filly�s mind as she circled the tree. It was a lone coyote that perused the horse. Exiled for the pack and starving, it was desperate enough to make and attempt for the small and seemingly unprotected filly. It burst through the trees and dashed straight towards the horse, salivating jaws snapping. The filly screamed and tried to move out of the way as the creature leapt. A gash appeared on the horse�s ribs and her eyes rolled in fear. The coyote turned and snarling, made ready to leap again. A shill scream and stream of curses, both in common and squirrel gibberish, rained down upon the vicious creature. Several nuts followed, striking the coyote on the head an back. It was a sufficient enough distracting for the horse to turn and land a solid kick against the coyote�s side. The force of it sent the creature rolling but it quickly regained its footing and charged again. Panicked, the filly kicked again. There was a bone-splitting crunch, the loud thud of a body hitting the forest floor limply, and then nothing. Eventually the natural sound of the forest rose up again, the birds and other creatures quieting to witness the basic tale of nature, predator versus prey, play itself out. A soft chatter echoed down from the upper-most branches of the tree. �My my my� to think a little horse like yourself�� The filly, still nervous, pricked her ears. Though she did not understand words fully, words like �horse� were familiar to her. �I must congratulate you, horse. That wolf has been plaguing my part of the forest for a long time. I lost on of my squirrlings to him�� Slowly, as if sensing the filly�s fear, the squirrel wound herself down the tree trunk till she clung to the bark before the horse�s nose. It tilted it�s head and chattered for a moment in squirrelish to itself. After a moment it looked into the horses eyes and spoke in slow, high pitched common, �Good. Good horse. Very good horse.� This calmed the creature. These were words she fully understood. Leaning forward, she sniffed the squirrel. �Hey, hey now! Horse-breath, the foulest thing ever!� Despite the words, the squirrel sounded pleased and when it leapt from trunk to horse mane, the filly hardly started. The creature�s tiny claws pricked at her neck till it had found a nice hold in her mane of white hair but she did not mind. The squirrel often chattered to itself as it rode and it rode often. Though Ticca-Ticca, for that was what it called itself, held no grudge against the filly�s dam and the man, who she often traded nuts for corn with, it was only with the filly that she spent time with and openly talked too. The occasional nut was tossed when near trampling occurred or the horse�s play became to rough for the delicate squirrel, but sure enough, a strong bond of friendship was formed between squirrel and horse� � the young horse tried to look back towards the tree outside the hut where she and her dam had lived, but the man holding the rope yanked hard and forced her head forward. The coarse rope rubbed against the soft flesh of her face and hurt. She didn�t like this man. She wanted the other man to walk with her, but they had left him hanging from a tree. Resisting the pull of the rope occurred to her again, but she felt her dam�s disapproval. �So it�s really a talking horse?� The man who carried the sack of loot from the house asked once again. He peered at the filly�s dam, a solid brown and rather plain looking horse. �How come she isn�t talking?� The man leading the older mare shook his head. �I swear, I herd her talking. When we found the man drinking Sara�s blood and tried to grab him, I swear the horse said �Stop!�. It scared us so bad, it allowed him to escape.� He shook his head and glanced wearely at the horse he lead who seemed to glare back at him. �And when we strung him up, before you got there Mickey, the damn creature was cursing at me�� Mickey glanced at the proud, and silent, mare skeptically. �Maybe she�ll talk later� A talking horse would be worth a lot..� But the mare would never speak again. It had been too long since the man had feed the mares the special mixture of sadillia nut and oats. While the senior mare proved able to produce speech when under the enlightening influence of the mixture, due to the years of usage, the younger never spoke nor even tried to. She would simply watch and listen. The man had given up trying to teach her common and instead provided puzzles, mental and physical. The men eventually reached the nearby town and stabled the horses. Perhaps because they too feared the rumors that the man had witched the creatures they harnessed and tied both of them to the back of the stall. Both horses struggled long and had against their restraints but even the young mare couldn�t free herself. The moon had already completed half it�s journey through the sky when a soft tittering roused the young horse. Her ears flicked backwards and she followed the sound of tiny claws scratching against wood. There was no surprise when Ticca-Ticca appeared before her. �Ah, you poor horse. It figures that the one tolerable human is killed by his own kind. And now, look at you and your dam. They�ll slaughter you or force you to be menial work creatures. No, no, you�re much too good for that, my little horse.� A tiny paw reached out to stroke the horse�s nose and she blew back warm breath in return. The horse had a hard time understanding the squirrel, but she heard the sad tone of voice and it made her sad. The paw pulled away and the squirrel scurried around to crawl up and onto the horse�s head. �I will free you, little horse. You are young and deserve better�� There was a snort and the sound of movement from the next stall over and the squirrel chattered in laughter. �And I will free you dam. Now hold still. No move. No move.� Repeating the last command, the squirrel began to gnaw on the leather straps of the harness. It was hard work for the small creature but eventually the constricting bonds fell away. The squirrel chattered and hopped over to the mare who stood as still as possible, not as comfortable with the creature as her child. There was still the stall door to deal with and the young horse could not find room enough to turn around. Shifting side to side, she finally resorted to the last option possible. Backing up, the door�s thick wood planks came into range and she kicked with all her might. The wood trembled but held. Tossing her head, she neighed loudly and struck again. Cries from the house echoed through the dark but were preceded by the sound of splintering wood. The squirrel frantically chattered something at her but she did not hear it. Another two strikes and the stall door exploded outward, a plank striking one of the recently arrived men. The young mare backed up and immediately reared up, hooves flashing in the lantern light. A scream from the older mare signaled her release from the harness and she too reared up. There was chaos in the room and as the horses dropped back to the ground and the humans scattered. One ran to get the rope from the wall but the one known as Mickey, frightened out of his wits, raced to the nearby dog kennel and released it�s howling occupants. Two dogs dashed out and towards the panicking young mare. The older mare�s stall door burst open and soon it was a confusing rush of snapping jaws and flashing hooves. The young mare separated herself from the tangle and managed to make it towards the stable door. Ticca-Ticca was chattering to her frantically from the rafters and one of the dogs turned towards her. Dancing sideways, she found her flank pressed against a rough wooden wall and with no hooves to place between her and the dog. Crouching down, its eyes locked on her throat, its muscles bunched for the finishing leap. A shill scream blended in with the general chaos of the stable as squirrel flung itself down upon the back of the dog. Biting and clawing it enraged the dog. A quick shake of the back dislodged the attacker and sent it flying. With one bound, the dog was upon the squirrel, it�s teeth tearing into the small lump of brown fur. Angered and nearly insane, the young horse turned and lashed out. With the dog�s entire back exposed, it took only one try to land a crippling blow to the creature's spine. Dropping her head, the horse nosed the limp form of the squirrel and came up with blood covering her nose. A scream from the horse�s dam focused her attention and turned her around. The man had gotten the rope around the horse�s neck and a third had gotten the second dog under control. The older mare tried to rear up, lash out, and in way cause pain to her attacker but it was a losing battle. Rolling her eyes she looked at the young mare and the message was clear. Rearing up, the young mare screamed once, bolted past an the approaching man who wielded the rope, and out of the stable. The city was not too large and within moments she was running free on the plains� �the horse had gone back to the city. She had too. Her dam was the only family or herd she had left. There were no men around the house and when she managed to nose her way into the stable, she found no other horses. She searched the whole barn, whinnying softly. There was blood splattered about everywhere, but most of it was only flecks and small splashes. There was a puddle where the men had put down the lamed dog and a large spot where Ticca-Ticca had died. Sadly, the mare nosed the ground. The body was gone, most likely dragged off by one of the cats or perhaps the other dog. One fact penetrated her thick horse mind though. Her dam was not there and they had not killed her, at least not there. Where was she? The horse traveled the city, easily escaping any who thought to snare the unbridled horse, but found no trace of her dam. Though she was no blood-hound, she could still follow the scent of the older mare. As the moon rose in the sky, the mare finally gave up and wandered out of the city to graze. As she slowly circled the cluster of houses her nose caught the faint sent of her dam. Her head went up and her ears pricked. East, it least east� She followed it as far as she could but a light drizzle cursed her and the scent was washed away. But her dam was alive, and men had lead her east� -=- The mare had stood still long enough for the squirrel to tentatively venture down from the tree. Seeing that it was not her friend the horse snorted in a rare fit of anger. The little creature shot back up the tree as the horse approached it at a frightening speed. Tossing her head, snorting, and kicking up clumps of ground, the mare circled the tree several times. When she had vented enough, she lowered her head and continued her east-ward journey, leaving behind being a tree circled by bare earth. |
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Though she is too old to fully be considered a filly, this young mare is still playful at heart. She loves to run and tosses her head when in a playful mood. None the less, she is easily reigned in, figuratively of course, by a scolding tone or authoritative voice. Always obedient to her dam and the man, she was even easily scolded by the squirrel. She dearly misses those who are lost and will every now and then feel gloomy and down, but this seldom lasts long. For the most part she simply plods onward, grazing as she goes. Her fits of �looking� are sporadic but respond well to rewards. Latches and doors are easily controlled by her through years of training by the man and since it was not uncommon for him to simply let the horses into the house if they could get the door open. She gets nervous easily and her simply nips can quickly lead to kicks. She does not so much as get angry but panicked in most cases, lashing out uncoordinatedly and out of instinct. When mad though, she flattens her ears and a lifted tail usually means a kick is common. Narrowed eyes and pinched lips usually mean annoyance and is a common reaction towards men she does not like. |
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Despite her bad experiences the night she lots her mother, this mare is not fearful of people. She at times prefers them to nobody, having never had a herd to belong to that was entirely horses. Despite her time with the man, she has never learned to carry a rider and would most likely object to the idea rather violently if one was to try it now. Other horses are a comforting presence for her to be around but usually always remind her of her lost dam. Squirrels always interest her but trigger her sadness that reminds her of her lost friend. Naturally fearful of canines, her rough past with dogs and coyotes has made them especially disdainful for her. The mare is a palomino in coloring. With a soft, short haired tan-colored coat, her only markings are white socks on every leg and a white nose. Her mane and tail are a snowy white and quite long. She was always a fiend for grooming, often harassing the man with head butts and nips to extend her grooming time. |
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Left on her own, she travels in search of her dam. From the night that they were separated she has traveled in an east-ward direction but there is the chance that any part of the way they turned north or south. She visits most cities she passes through, a lone horse traveling the streets at night, and checks the stables and stalls for her dam. She also travels in hopes of perhaps finding the man again although they left him hanging from a tree. Traveling alone is hard on her for she is a social creature who longs to find a herd of any race to belong to. Having made friends with a squirrel, some might say her standards aren�t too high. |