Post by Ashen on Feb 2, 2009 20:33:17 GMT -5
I meant to post this so much earlier(like, weeks ago ><), but it took me a while to extract it from the horrible mess that is my MUCK logs.
Characters:
Cloudshadow(stray mare)
Wraith(Sagebrush mare)
Location: Sweeping Steppes
The days are almost unendurable for many, especially in drier terrains such as this. But for the young arabian mutt, the summer heat is a tolerable inconvenience. Still, Wraith finds the nights more pleasant, which is why she's chosen this later hour as the perfect time for grazing on the dull grasses that scatter around the steppe. The mare does not linger in a single spot for long, however. After spending some moments tearing at the greenage, she will dart a small distance as if startled, look around in fright, then finally settle for a time to resume her meal. Her odd behavior, however, continues to repeat again and again.
For Cloudshadow, the mid-day sun is not in the least forgiving of her dark coat, and she has little choice but to spend it in what shade she can find. She too has reserved her energy for the hours of darkness, as unnerving as those hours can be. The roan mare moves slowly, quietly, her ears tuned and twitching at the slightest noises. She jumps a bit when a coyote suddenly howls in the distance and stops, shivering. Her large, dark eyes have a wariness to them, if not downright fear, as she scans her surroundings as if expecting a predator to appear at any moment. When she finally moves again she doesn't get more than a few paces before something else makes her stop -- the sound of hooves. Nostrils flare and ears swivel uncertainly. She tosses her head a bit anxiously and gives a soft snort, then goes quiet and waits.
When the snort catches Wrath's ears, she freezes. Blades of grass slip from her lips and sink weightlessly to the dirt below. After taking the time to analyze the sound, she comes to the conclusion that it can be nothing else but another of her kind. Surprisingly, she looks a touch nervous at this realization. All the same, she composes herself, arched neck lifting to its best height so that she may look around. And then she gives her own response, with a low neighing call. Whoever is out there, she hopes they show themselves soon.
This is certainly a new source of anxiety for Cloudshadow also. Though she's caught a few old scents on her recent travels she hasn't so much as seen, let alone encountered another horse. She can't help but feel self-conscious and annoyed about the worn, dirty tack still clinging obstinately to her body. She shakes her head, for a moment not responding to Wraith's call, indeed considering turning to flee rather than stay for an encounter. She has no idea how a wild horse will react to her. She still smells of man, and knows it. But lonelyness is something she's felt sharply since she's been on her own, and the nagging requirement for some interaction holds her fast for the moment. Finally, she replies to the neigh with a quiet one of her own, trying to sound friendly but feeling tense with fear. Moving as slowly and cautiously as before, she approaches the sound of the other equine. There isn't much cover here as far as vegetation, so it doesn't take long to part the thin veil of darkness that separates them.
As the darker pelted mare drifts into view, Wraith's eyes are upon her; investigating, judging. She breaths in the scent, visibly flinching at the touch of man. It takes a while before the rabicano looks at Cloudshadow as another horse, rather than an intruder into her space. "You wear skins from the dead." She observes, ears leaning back against her skull. It seems, even more than the stench of men, this disturbs her a great deal. She takes just a single step back, but manages to catch herself. It's too soon to leave; she hasn't given the other a chance to explain herself yet.
Cloudshadow's ears tilt back as well, and she feels her stomach knot. She approaches no further, painfully aware of her startling appearance and scent. "They're not there of my will." She replies, clearly resentful of the items burdening her. "A man put them there." No point in dancing around it or denying it, after all. "I've been trying to get them off..." She says more quietly, shifting her weight and shaking her bridle-laden head again miserably.
Now, Wraith is starting to take on a more sympathetic attitude. If she were wearing the hides against her own want, that was not nearly so bad. Still, it's not easy or pleasant to look on. "Why would they put such things on a horse?" She wonders, watching Cloudshadow from the side of her vision. "How do you remove them? I might try to help." She takes some steps toward the other mare, studying warily the leather on her back and against her face.
Luckily (relatively, at least) her master used a bitless bridle, so Cloudshadow hasn't been hindered from foraging, but from the way she twitches under the tack it's clearly irritating her. She had never liked wearing it, but having had it on for longer than usual has compounded her discomfort. "Because they can." The roan replies with a hint of bitterness in her voice, unable to keep herself from scuffing the ground softly with a hoof. "I think the one on my head can be pulled off. I just... can't... get a grip on it." She lifts a leg awkwardly to try and cajole the piece of rawhide from her face, but promptly gives up. She's surprised but grateful at Wraith's offer to help, and lowers her head as the other female approaches. Her ears flick back breifly in trepidation, but she puts them forward again attentively, not wanting to seem aggressive. "If you can get a grip on the part behind my ears, and pull it forward..." She suggests.
Wraith's stomach wrenches as she nears, but she forces herself under control. She's surprised and impressed that Cloudshadow managed to deal with it for so long. "I see what you mean." She replies after looking over the way the bridle sits on her head. "Alright. Tip your head forward a bit, and be still as you can. I will try." Her nostrils give a few uneasy puffs of breath, then she reaches out. This isn't going to be terribly enjoyable. With much care and diligence, she does her best to clasp the strip that had been suggested, while avoiding catching her teeth on any locks of mane, or even the mare's flesh.
Cloudshadow tips her head as instructed, eager to comply if it means this wretched thing will be off. She can tell that Wraith isn't gleeful about the task, and doesn't blame her -- she even feels a little guilty about putting her through it. All the same, she can't help but feel relieved and encouraged by the stranger's empathy towards her situation. She wouldn't have been surprised to have been attacked rather than helped. The mare waits, her head angled stiffly, staying as still as she can.
Wraith has to plant her hooves securely against the dusty ground, so that the shifting soil cannot weaken her grip. Then, after bracing herself and swallowing a gag at the taste of dry, aged skin, she tugs at the top of the bridle, directing it up and hopefully over the ears. And if she must bend them a little to complete the task, so be it. To some extent, she can see what she's going. But Wraith also relies on Cloudshadow to inform her if anything starts to cause her pain, or otherwise go wrong. She's never, after all, removed such a thing from another horse. On the other hand, it appears she's just about gotten it.
Cloudshadow waits until Wraith has gotten a grip, then takes a slow step back, her head still bowed, to put some resistance against the other mare's tug. The roan flinches as the bridle hits her ears going over them, but the pain is mild and short-lived, and in another instant the bridle is hanging by the loop around her muzzle, just above the nostrils. She manages to shake it off without any help, and the thing lands in a harmless tangle at her hooves. She shakes her mane out in relief, her mood improving quickly now that she's free of some of the annoying tack. "Thank you." She offers, with genuine gratitute. The saddle, she knows, will probably be more difficult, but she tries to forget that and enjoy the feeling of the night breeze against the chafed areas on her face instead.
Wraith banishes the tack from her mouth as soon as it's free, leaving her jaw cracked open to let the wind rinse the vile flavor from her tongue. "Think nothing of it." She assures, dipping her head before the other mare. The pinto then examines Cloudshadow's face, with the bridle not removed. "You look much better this way." She steps back, one ear trained on Cloud, while the other swivels about dutifully and on guard. "Surely it must have been painful, as well." She can't imagine living with such a device entangling her for any length of time.
"That one was more annoying than anything. It wasn't as bad as the one the first men I knew used. They would put this... horrid cold stone in my mouth, attached to that part that was over my ears. -That- could hurt." Again there's a hint of bitterness in her voice, though there is also a certain gleefulness in spite what she's been through, a defiant happiness at being free again to do what she wishes. She had almost forgotten what it was like. "Are there other horses around here?" She asks, glad enough to change the subject to something other than men. She only wishes she could forget them now that she's away from them.
Looking visibly disturbed by that description, Wraith turns away, trying to chase away her vivid imagination that places the tack on herself. But it's apparent that this isn't a subject Cloudshadow wishes to engage in, and Wraith is happy to comply. She lifts her head up, sniffing at the currents of air as they pass by. "Yes. Mostly. To the north is a herd led by the mare Starlight, who is my nearest friend." Wraith looks down again, her tail swatting at a cricket as it tries to make a perch of her leg.
Cloudshadow can't help but feel a little ashamed as Wraith turns away, her ears flickering again dubiously. "Sorry." She didn't mean to disturb the other horse, but she has seen much worse things in her life with the indian tribe and has become a little desensitized. Even the metal bit, which was traumatic at first, seems the least of some of the other unpleasantries that she remembers witnessing. She decides to spare her new friend from these details, not that she's eager to re-live any in the telling. The roan lifts her head a bit as well, looking north when Starlight's herd is mentioned. She can only hope that the others in the band will be as friendly as Wraith has been. "This place is a lot like where I was born..." She remarks of the landscape, then gives an amused little snuffle. "Then again, maybe this -is- where I was born. I forgot what it smelled like moons ago.."
Wraith has, for the most part, been sheltered from the life of domestic horses. Although some in the herd had been born into servitude for man, she'd not thought to ask them much about what it was like. But right now, she wordlessly thanks the spirits that she had lived in freedom her entire life. Shaking her head, the mare listens as Cloudshadow mentions her place of birth, and suddenly Wraith's interest is caught by that. Had she really be wild at some point, in the past? "What do you remember of where you came from?" She asks, but leaving it open for the other horse to decide if she even wishes to answer.
Cloudshadow lowers her head to nibble at a sparse patch of semi-palatable grass, then lifts it again and perks one ear attentively to her companion while the other listens behind. As she chews she looks around again, quietly taking in the sights and scents. When she finishes with her bite she answers, closing her eyes for a moment as she tries to remember more clearly. "It was a vast flat place, like this, with a sort of.. valley at one end." She describes. "I lived there with my family." She opens her eyes again and gives her head a little shake, the beads in her mane rattling softly. "How I've dreamed about it since! Even with this beastly stuff on me, it's good to be in such a place again."
Wraith takes in what the other mare tells her, painting a picture in her mind of what she describes. Although it ends up just looking exactly the same as the land that surrounds them, so she wonders if perhaps her imagination is failing her. There are a few places that look rather similar to this place, but regardless, it hardly matters what patch of grass she was born on. "I'm very sorry it was taken from you then. But now..." A look of mirth comes to her visage. "Let me be the one to welcome you home."
Cloudshadow can't help but smile, and already she feels her previous anxieties dissolving. Even the exhiliration she felt at the initial realization that she was free pales in comparison to this, the promise of a life the way a horse is -meant- to live, free to go where she pleases, live in a band of her own kind and mate with the stallion she fancies -- basically, to make all the decisions that men would be making for her if she were still among them. Trodding a little closer to the pinto, she gently nudges her side with her nose in an appreciative gesture. "Thank you." She repeats again softly.
Characters:
Cloudshadow(stray mare)
Wraith(Sagebrush mare)
Location: Sweeping Steppes
The days are almost unendurable for many, especially in drier terrains such as this. But for the young arabian mutt, the summer heat is a tolerable inconvenience. Still, Wraith finds the nights more pleasant, which is why she's chosen this later hour as the perfect time for grazing on the dull grasses that scatter around the steppe. The mare does not linger in a single spot for long, however. After spending some moments tearing at the greenage, she will dart a small distance as if startled, look around in fright, then finally settle for a time to resume her meal. Her odd behavior, however, continues to repeat again and again.
For Cloudshadow, the mid-day sun is not in the least forgiving of her dark coat, and she has little choice but to spend it in what shade she can find. She too has reserved her energy for the hours of darkness, as unnerving as those hours can be. The roan mare moves slowly, quietly, her ears tuned and twitching at the slightest noises. She jumps a bit when a coyote suddenly howls in the distance and stops, shivering. Her large, dark eyes have a wariness to them, if not downright fear, as she scans her surroundings as if expecting a predator to appear at any moment. When she finally moves again she doesn't get more than a few paces before something else makes her stop -- the sound of hooves. Nostrils flare and ears swivel uncertainly. She tosses her head a bit anxiously and gives a soft snort, then goes quiet and waits.
When the snort catches Wrath's ears, she freezes. Blades of grass slip from her lips and sink weightlessly to the dirt below. After taking the time to analyze the sound, she comes to the conclusion that it can be nothing else but another of her kind. Surprisingly, she looks a touch nervous at this realization. All the same, she composes herself, arched neck lifting to its best height so that she may look around. And then she gives her own response, with a low neighing call. Whoever is out there, she hopes they show themselves soon.
This is certainly a new source of anxiety for Cloudshadow also. Though she's caught a few old scents on her recent travels she hasn't so much as seen, let alone encountered another horse. She can't help but feel self-conscious and annoyed about the worn, dirty tack still clinging obstinately to her body. She shakes her head, for a moment not responding to Wraith's call, indeed considering turning to flee rather than stay for an encounter. She has no idea how a wild horse will react to her. She still smells of man, and knows it. But lonelyness is something she's felt sharply since she's been on her own, and the nagging requirement for some interaction holds her fast for the moment. Finally, she replies to the neigh with a quiet one of her own, trying to sound friendly but feeling tense with fear. Moving as slowly and cautiously as before, she approaches the sound of the other equine. There isn't much cover here as far as vegetation, so it doesn't take long to part the thin veil of darkness that separates them.
As the darker pelted mare drifts into view, Wraith's eyes are upon her; investigating, judging. She breaths in the scent, visibly flinching at the touch of man. It takes a while before the rabicano looks at Cloudshadow as another horse, rather than an intruder into her space. "You wear skins from the dead." She observes, ears leaning back against her skull. It seems, even more than the stench of men, this disturbs her a great deal. She takes just a single step back, but manages to catch herself. It's too soon to leave; she hasn't given the other a chance to explain herself yet.
Cloudshadow's ears tilt back as well, and she feels her stomach knot. She approaches no further, painfully aware of her startling appearance and scent. "They're not there of my will." She replies, clearly resentful of the items burdening her. "A man put them there." No point in dancing around it or denying it, after all. "I've been trying to get them off..." She says more quietly, shifting her weight and shaking her bridle-laden head again miserably.
Now, Wraith is starting to take on a more sympathetic attitude. If she were wearing the hides against her own want, that was not nearly so bad. Still, it's not easy or pleasant to look on. "Why would they put such things on a horse?" She wonders, watching Cloudshadow from the side of her vision. "How do you remove them? I might try to help." She takes some steps toward the other mare, studying warily the leather on her back and against her face.
Luckily (relatively, at least) her master used a bitless bridle, so Cloudshadow hasn't been hindered from foraging, but from the way she twitches under the tack it's clearly irritating her. She had never liked wearing it, but having had it on for longer than usual has compounded her discomfort. "Because they can." The roan replies with a hint of bitterness in her voice, unable to keep herself from scuffing the ground softly with a hoof. "I think the one on my head can be pulled off. I just... can't... get a grip on it." She lifts a leg awkwardly to try and cajole the piece of rawhide from her face, but promptly gives up. She's surprised but grateful at Wraith's offer to help, and lowers her head as the other female approaches. Her ears flick back breifly in trepidation, but she puts them forward again attentively, not wanting to seem aggressive. "If you can get a grip on the part behind my ears, and pull it forward..." She suggests.
Wraith's stomach wrenches as she nears, but she forces herself under control. She's surprised and impressed that Cloudshadow managed to deal with it for so long. "I see what you mean." She replies after looking over the way the bridle sits on her head. "Alright. Tip your head forward a bit, and be still as you can. I will try." Her nostrils give a few uneasy puffs of breath, then she reaches out. This isn't going to be terribly enjoyable. With much care and diligence, she does her best to clasp the strip that had been suggested, while avoiding catching her teeth on any locks of mane, or even the mare's flesh.
Cloudshadow tips her head as instructed, eager to comply if it means this wretched thing will be off. She can tell that Wraith isn't gleeful about the task, and doesn't blame her -- she even feels a little guilty about putting her through it. All the same, she can't help but feel relieved and encouraged by the stranger's empathy towards her situation. She wouldn't have been surprised to have been attacked rather than helped. The mare waits, her head angled stiffly, staying as still as she can.
Wraith has to plant her hooves securely against the dusty ground, so that the shifting soil cannot weaken her grip. Then, after bracing herself and swallowing a gag at the taste of dry, aged skin, she tugs at the top of the bridle, directing it up and hopefully over the ears. And if she must bend them a little to complete the task, so be it. To some extent, she can see what she's going. But Wraith also relies on Cloudshadow to inform her if anything starts to cause her pain, or otherwise go wrong. She's never, after all, removed such a thing from another horse. On the other hand, it appears she's just about gotten it.
Cloudshadow waits until Wraith has gotten a grip, then takes a slow step back, her head still bowed, to put some resistance against the other mare's tug. The roan flinches as the bridle hits her ears going over them, but the pain is mild and short-lived, and in another instant the bridle is hanging by the loop around her muzzle, just above the nostrils. She manages to shake it off without any help, and the thing lands in a harmless tangle at her hooves. She shakes her mane out in relief, her mood improving quickly now that she's free of some of the annoying tack. "Thank you." She offers, with genuine gratitute. The saddle, she knows, will probably be more difficult, but she tries to forget that and enjoy the feeling of the night breeze against the chafed areas on her face instead.
Wraith banishes the tack from her mouth as soon as it's free, leaving her jaw cracked open to let the wind rinse the vile flavor from her tongue. "Think nothing of it." She assures, dipping her head before the other mare. The pinto then examines Cloudshadow's face, with the bridle not removed. "You look much better this way." She steps back, one ear trained on Cloud, while the other swivels about dutifully and on guard. "Surely it must have been painful, as well." She can't imagine living with such a device entangling her for any length of time.
"That one was more annoying than anything. It wasn't as bad as the one the first men I knew used. They would put this... horrid cold stone in my mouth, attached to that part that was over my ears. -That- could hurt." Again there's a hint of bitterness in her voice, though there is also a certain gleefulness in spite what she's been through, a defiant happiness at being free again to do what she wishes. She had almost forgotten what it was like. "Are there other horses around here?" She asks, glad enough to change the subject to something other than men. She only wishes she could forget them now that she's away from them.
Looking visibly disturbed by that description, Wraith turns away, trying to chase away her vivid imagination that places the tack on herself. But it's apparent that this isn't a subject Cloudshadow wishes to engage in, and Wraith is happy to comply. She lifts her head up, sniffing at the currents of air as they pass by. "Yes. Mostly. To the north is a herd led by the mare Starlight, who is my nearest friend." Wraith looks down again, her tail swatting at a cricket as it tries to make a perch of her leg.
Cloudshadow can't help but feel a little ashamed as Wraith turns away, her ears flickering again dubiously. "Sorry." She didn't mean to disturb the other horse, but she has seen much worse things in her life with the indian tribe and has become a little desensitized. Even the metal bit, which was traumatic at first, seems the least of some of the other unpleasantries that she remembers witnessing. She decides to spare her new friend from these details, not that she's eager to re-live any in the telling. The roan lifts her head a bit as well, looking north when Starlight's herd is mentioned. She can only hope that the others in the band will be as friendly as Wraith has been. "This place is a lot like where I was born..." She remarks of the landscape, then gives an amused little snuffle. "Then again, maybe this -is- where I was born. I forgot what it smelled like moons ago.."
Wraith has, for the most part, been sheltered from the life of domestic horses. Although some in the herd had been born into servitude for man, she'd not thought to ask them much about what it was like. But right now, she wordlessly thanks the spirits that she had lived in freedom her entire life. Shaking her head, the mare listens as Cloudshadow mentions her place of birth, and suddenly Wraith's interest is caught by that. Had she really be wild at some point, in the past? "What do you remember of where you came from?" She asks, but leaving it open for the other horse to decide if she even wishes to answer.
Cloudshadow lowers her head to nibble at a sparse patch of semi-palatable grass, then lifts it again and perks one ear attentively to her companion while the other listens behind. As she chews she looks around again, quietly taking in the sights and scents. When she finishes with her bite she answers, closing her eyes for a moment as she tries to remember more clearly. "It was a vast flat place, like this, with a sort of.. valley at one end." She describes. "I lived there with my family." She opens her eyes again and gives her head a little shake, the beads in her mane rattling softly. "How I've dreamed about it since! Even with this beastly stuff on me, it's good to be in such a place again."
Wraith takes in what the other mare tells her, painting a picture in her mind of what she describes. Although it ends up just looking exactly the same as the land that surrounds them, so she wonders if perhaps her imagination is failing her. There are a few places that look rather similar to this place, but regardless, it hardly matters what patch of grass she was born on. "I'm very sorry it was taken from you then. But now..." A look of mirth comes to her visage. "Let me be the one to welcome you home."
Cloudshadow can't help but smile, and already she feels her previous anxieties dissolving. Even the exhiliration she felt at the initial realization that she was free pales in comparison to this, the promise of a life the way a horse is -meant- to live, free to go where she pleases, live in a band of her own kind and mate with the stallion she fancies -- basically, to make all the decisions that men would be making for her if she were still among them. Trodding a little closer to the pinto, she gently nudges her side with her nose in an appreciative gesture. "Thank you." She repeats again softly.