flash fire [belle!]

[Forte]

The clouds, which had looked so innocent and wispy but moments ago, had become dark and ominous, bruised bellies to the Earth. Chris lifted his head doubtfully to the sky, patting Omaha's sleek red neck as the horse climbed at a slow walk up the path. The spring storms had not yet broken, and it had seemed like they would not break today. However, the thunder had begun to rumble, purring through the clouds like a tiger and seeming closer and closer as they climbed. The path was too thin here to stop, but Chris urged the gelding onward and upward, to where they could turn around. A thin belt of beech trees was visible up the slope, and perhaps they would provide from shelter from the storm that now looked all too likely to come. "Easy now," Chris crooned, as Omaha tossed his head uneasily, picking up a very slow jog up the hill. Chris was sitting forward in the saddle, his weight lifted against the horn, one hand patting the red neck while the other held the reins of Omaha's customary hackamore. They emerged onto a wider part of the path and Omaha broke into an earnest trot, making for the copse.

The trees were still stripped bear by winter, not having budded yet, though the air was carrying life further down the mountain. The wood was dry, but there was no shelter here, and Chris sat and frowned as Omaha pranced uneasily, perhaps sensing what was coming. The thunder rippled into a snarling tone, a desperate note, closer than before. Omaha pranced, trying to bolt, but Chris's steady hand and voice stayed him. The whites of his eyes were showing, and he seemed like to rip back down the mountain pell-mell. But the storm broke while they were on that treacherous path, Chris knew that the still-unfit horse would have little chance of keeping his footing. He gave an uneasy nicker as Chris wheeled him around in a circle, standing him in a patch of thin grass and loosening his grip on the reins to allow the horse to graze.

This proved to be a bad idea, for at that moment the clouds darkened violently, and a fork of lightning ripped through the air, alarmingly close, so close that Chris could feel the heat coming off of it and was stunned, while Omaha reared up suddenly in fright and, in the confusion, dumped him on the ground. Chris hit hard, and he felt something snap in the region of his arm and ribs where he slammed against the rocky ground. He almost blacked out, but he fought against it as Omaha fell still, shaking beside him, and tried to bolt right back over him. However, he seemed unable to. He was trapped. He knew what Chris did not (could not, he was still fighting against blackness on the ground and could not see what was going on above). The lightning had struck one of the little bare trees, and it had ignited the thin grass like a candle. Omaha wanted nothing so much as to bolt, but the danger seemed to be in the very air, which was smoking violently, and where could he go? He needed Chris's hand to guide him, now, but Chris was no longer there. He neighed loudly, again and again, in terror instead.

[racingbelle]

Come on Belle. Sweet girl. My horse snorted from underneath me. Come on I know there's shelter from this storm somewhere around here. I know you don't like lightning and I don't mean our Lightning. I don't like it either but your going to have to move in order to reach the shelter. Beellleee! I stretched out her name and gave her a sharp nudge. I knew she wanted to go back from the first flash of lightning but we wouldn't make it back to camp in time. She didn't seem to know that but I did. Belle had dug her hooves in the ground and refused to move.

Nope I won't do it. I am going to bolt back to camp and load myself in the trailer and stay there till this is over. My owner crooned to me and tried to trick me into going to this imaginary shelter. I felt her give me a sharp nudge and I moved forward at a reluctant walk. I swished my tail giving my owner a whip lashing on both legs. I let out a little laugh.

Ow! You silly horse. Come on let's go now. Belle let out this little nicker that sounded almost like a laugh. This isn't funny girl. If you want to stay dry you will listen to me. All of a sudden a bright flash of lightning blinded me. Belle bolted but I stayed with her. Easy girl easy girl. Your okay. Your okay. Good girl I said to her as she relaxed. We got going again and in a short while Belle's ears pricked up. What is it girl? Then I heard it. It was a horse's scream of terror followed by the smell of smoke. Belle jumped but I urged her forward. Come on girl a horse is in trouble! She leaped forward at a ground eating gallop, as if she understood, heading toward the sound. Waves of smoke blinded us as we searched for the endangered horse. There! There was a still shape next to it too! Come on Belle let's go. Careful now there's some kind of crack here... Whoa! Belle slipped almost going down into the hole itself. Come on girl almost there. A fire had started and flickers of light touched the sky. Hello? Are you hurt? I dismounted leading Belle behind me to the two figures.

[Forte]

Chris had managed to roll onto his back and was assessing the damage to his arm and diaphragm. His heart was beating as fast as a freight train, and he could hear that Omaha was breathing just about as fast. He could barely see through the sting of acrid smoke that was making his eyes water and making it hard to breathe. He willed himself to calm down, making an attempt to sit up and failing miserably as his arm (the shoulder no doubt dislocated, he couldn't even feel it, it was hanging limply at his side like rubber) gave way. His ribs were bruised and cracked and his breath was coming in constricted gasps. He coughed painfully, doubling over with tears in his eyes as it racked across the inside of his chest. He couldn't hear Stevie calling to him for a long time, it seemed as if hearing had failed him in panic, and sight was all he had left. But he heard her at last, and saw the figure approaching. The fire was moving swiftly, burning a bright blaze behind him, starting to curve with the wind. He willed the storm to start, the winds to change directions, anything.

Omaha was standing stock still, still neighing frantically but finding it harder to breathe in the smoke. When he saw the horse and rider coming, his first instinct was to bolt away from him, and he half-turned to do so, irrational and terrified, before he backed away and doubled back from the flames that were dancing behind him. So he stood, shivering, head lowered, alternatively backing away and moving forward, tossing his head nervously, unable to decide on a course of action. He glanced down at Chris, who, with a herculean effort, had managed to sit up and was holding his head with his good hand in an attempt not to pass out. He kept opening his mouth to try and call out to the strange, fortuitous angel that he perceived was coming towards him, but his voice caught in his ribs and the best he did was a frail wheeze. Finally, he managed something, his voice cracking and frail, "Yes." One simple word, really, and he was trying to say something else. "Ribs... cracked. Shoulder..." he stopped. There was blood running from a shallow cut across his elbow, but he couldn't feel it.

In desperation he looked over at Omaha, who was breathing heavily and foaming with sweat. "Shhhh," it was the best he could do to calm the horse. One ear half-turned towards him, and then the head as he reached out with his good hand and grabbed the stirrup, pulling himself onto his knees and then his feet. He was grasping onto the horn of the saddle for dear life, blinded by pain, and Omaha kept shifting and dancing nervously.

[racingbelle]

"Yes." The stranger paused for a long time. "Ribs... cracked. Shoulder..." He tried to calm his horse but couldn't. I looked all around. The fire was engulfing the forest above quickly. It would spread even quicker to the plains below if they didn't hurry. "Don't worry, stranger, I'll get you out of here. Your horse is kind of stuck though, he won't let me near him. I'm afraid if I go to close he might fall to his.." I stopped right there. Saying the word would only cause panic to the horse's owner. Stay with me please! Can you get up? I'm going to need your help to put this rope on your horse. Belle jerked back on the reins trying to flee. Easy girl I murmured to her. We'll be fine but we have to help them. Come on now.

I was scared! I trusted Stevie but this was too much! The fire was coming closer I could tell. We had to hurry or else we wouldn't...survive. Well might as well make my self useful. Hello I called out to the other horse. My name is Belle. Yours is? Some time for formal introductions. I had to try and keep this horse calm or else he might fall to his death.

It's time to get up stranger. We don't have much time. I'll help you up on Belle. I knew he was going to protest but we didn't have time for that. It will be easier this way. Oh Belle please cooperate! I knew she didn't like strangers on her back but we didn't have a choice. The mare was preoccupied by nickering to the other horse. My thoughts turned back to the man. I had to keep him awake until we got to safety. What's your horse's name? Come on time to get up." I tried not to panic but it was hard. The intense heat came in waves that got longer and longer. We had to get out of here and fast!

[Forte]

Chris couldn't understand half of what Stevie was saying, and he realized that she was just as panicked, if not more so, than he was. Omaha was backing away from her as she kept on spewing nonsense, making it extremely difficult for Chris, who was on his knees with one hand on the horn of the saddle, to stand up. However, right at that moment a spark touched Omaha's flank and he started and jumped forward, jarring Chris's arm. However, after that Omaha stood stock still again, shaking like made, unable to escape on any direction, and so Chris half-dragged himself up from the ground, leaning on the saddle horn to pull himself up. His legs shook violently underneath him and his left arm hung limp and useless, bleeding still, but he managed to stay up, breathing heavily and trying to recover some sensibility. He felt incredibly weak, his ribs were on fire,and so were his lungs, but he tried to recover his breath enough to talk. "Be... quiet... won't you? The horse... doesn't like people." He managed, feeling a little stronger now.

Omaha snorted fearfully, his breath rattling in his nostrils. "O-omaha." he said to the mare, shaking so much that his voice was obscured. He layed his ears back in fear and distrust of the person and the strange horse. He took his hand off the saddle horn, wavering precariously, and fumbled for a minute trying to get his shirt off. He had sweat straight through it in any case, and it was unbearably hot anyway. It took several long, desperate moments for him to loop it with one arm around Omaha's eyes and tie it loosely around the bottom, blindfolding him. "He won't... follow me otherwise," he explained, though his voice was very faint and he looked as if he might pass out at any moment. Chris reached out to take the rope from Stevie's hand, almost collapsing again in the process. There was a dazed, dreamy look on his face as he hooked it to the hackamore crudely, wondering if it would even get Omaha to follow him at all.

"I'm... Chris, he's Omaha. You can keep talking now, please, don't let me pass out," he said, as he began to walk painfully towards her. Omaha, blinded and terrified, resisted for a moment before realizing he had no other choice, then began to follow him fearfully, unable to sense much but the heat of the fire and the smell of the smoke at his back. "What's your name? Why are you up here in a thunderstorm? Anything, just keep talking, keep me awake." His voice was desperate now as he fought for consciousness, leading Omaha too-slowly away from the fire.

[racingbelle]

"Be... quiet... won't you? The horse... doesn't like people." He said weakly. I stopped talking nonsense for a while as I watched him struggle upward into a standing position. He staggered to his horse. Then struggled to get off his shirt. I almost asked why but I then saw. He had made a blindfold out of it. "He won't... follow me otherwise," he then explained his voice faint and cracking. Belle was sweating heavily and still nickering nonstop to the other horse.

"O-omaha." He said to me. Omaha was frightened I could tell. Don't be scared Omaha. Stevie's a good person. She's going to help all of us out of this but your going to have to trust us. I know that will be hard but you have to. The human blindfolded him. I shivered in fear and nudged Stevie to remind her that the fire was still getting closer.

"I'm... Chris, he's Omaha. You can keep talking now, please, don't let me pass out," he struggled to walk toward me. Belle nudged me trying to remind me that a blazing fire was coming closer by the second. Finally Chris had stopped next to me. "What's your name? Why are you up here in a thunderstorm? Anything, just keep talking, keep me awake." Alright but you asked for it. My name is Stevie Harper and this is Belle. I was taking a trail ride up here when the storm blew in. I was trying to get to the shelter that I knew was further up the trail when the lightning flashed and the fire started. That's when your horse screamed. He's the one who let me find you." They were going too slow! We had to ride and there was only one horse to ride. Chris! We have to ride! Otherwise we won't get out of here and no one will ever find us you here? Come on let me help you on Belle. She can carry the both of us. You can lead your horse form up there. Oh Belle wasn't going to like this but we had too! Come on Belle. Please be good. Your our only hope. It was getting harder to breath! The fire was getting way too close for comfort!

[Forte]

Omaha seemed a little pacified by Belle's words, but not much. The press of the heat was making him extremely nervous, and although he was uninjured he was having trouble breathing, and kept coughing and snorting as he blindly followed Chris. He trusted Chris, at least more than he trusted most human beings. nonetheless, he kept tossing his head nervously as they went along, jerking Chris's good arm around uncomfortably. Chris was doing his best just to stay upright, his vision tunneling. Stevie's words kept fading in and out, he was just trying to force himself to take one step at a time, battling with the pain in his ribs and the fact that he could not even feel his arm. He heard the part about Omaha having saved him, and tried his best to pat the horse. He kept murmuring nothings under his breath, praising Omaha for every step he took in the right direction, for every moment that they stayed alive.

"A...alright." he said, when Stevie suggested that they ought to ride. He looked dubiously at the English saddle on Belle's back, vaguely wondering how he was going to manage to get up there with only one arm. "I'd ride Omaha, but I don't fancy getting bucked off with only one arm..." He was just hoping that the mare could carry them both safely, and that he would be able to stay on without the balance of his left hand. He rode with the reins in his right in any case, but having lost that arm meant being unable to counterbalance and right himself up. He staggered over to the mare's side, aware that they had very little time to get out of here, and with an effort mostly born out of years of horsemanship managed to hoist himself up into the saddle. He shifted back to let Stevie get up in front of him, knowing that she would have a much easier time steering. About all he could do was hold onto Omaha's reins.

[racingbelle]

I laughed weakly as he made a bit of a joke or was he serious I didn't know but all I could think about was how he were going to get out of here. I can help...if you want.. I said unsure on how he was going to get up there. but then he proved me wrong and hoisted himself up into the saddle. I realized he didn't ride English but we had no choice. The fire was getting so close that sparks were burning our skin and hair. We have to get out of here now! I yelled. I swung up quickly in front of Chris. Come one Belle! Ride!

I bolted forward both with fear and anxiety. The last time a male human had been on my back he rode me roughly. I called back to Omaha. Keep up we have to get out humans out of here and fast! Trust us and don't pull anything stupid! I flew forward the ground flying underneath me.

Oh my gosh! Belle was actually doing this! I couldn't believe it. She had never let anyone but me successfully ride her. Don't fail us now Belle your our only hope. I whispered to her. Chris are you okay? you'll be fine once we get to the trailer. If we got to the trailer I thought.

[Forte]

Chris wasn't too badly injured, in fact, but the heat of the fire and the cracks in his ribs were putting him in agony. He felt more drained than he had in a long time, wrought out and stretched thin, tired and stressed and unable to manage. He hated that feeling. He hadn't really been prepared for Belle to surge forward as suddenly as she did, and neither had Omaha - who of course couldn't see anything and was panicked. As it was Chris found himself grabbing wildly at the air for balance as Omaha startled, jarring his good arm, at the same time as Belle leapt forward. His arm ended wrapped somewhat awkwardly around Belle's midriff for a brief moment as he tried to recover his balance on Belle's back and encourage Omaha on. Currently, the gelding was alternatively bolting forward and then stopping, frightened, shaking, his ears flat against his head and his neck and shoulders trembling. His breath came in short, rattling gasps.

Chris had managed to gain his balance and was now gripping Belle's barrel with his knees and thighs, "Sorry, girl," he whispered to the horse, stroking her flank with his good hand as he attempted to draw Omaha up closer. "Come on, bud, we're gonna get you out of here. Easy, now..." Omaha snorted with fear, but at his words and Belle's settled into a desperate staccato canter, leaping forward occasionally to keep up. Chris managed, but twisting around awkwardly and sliding a little further back up Belle's flanks, to grab the blindfold, which came easily loose. Now that Omaha could see where he was going he went on a little better, although he was no match in speed for the Thoroughbred and did no more than a rather sloppy hand gallop. Chris gritted his teeth as he realized that Omaha was probably catching the backs of his front feet with his back feet, overreaching because of his poor muscle tone, but he knew that they had to get out of there.

"I'm ok," he said, turning back forwards and scooting up so that his seat was more comfortable. He was glad, not for the first time, that he had practically been born in the saddle and that he could even manage to ride at all with one hand hanging limp and the other holding onto Omaha's rope. he looked up at the sky, which was still growling ominously. He willed the storm to break, feeling the oppressive humidity of it's coming, and knew that the only way the fire would stop anytime soon was if the rains started at last. "Come on..." He murmured, half to himself.

[racingbelle]

I felt at one with Belle as I could feel her pain and desperation. She was tiring and was going to run herself into the ground if we didn't slow down. Good girl. Easy Belle. We can slow down now, for a little bit at least. I could feel Chris shifting around, trying to get Omaha's blind fold off. Chris are you OK? How's Omaha? We're almost there. I could feel Belle's strides slow as she galloped madly down a hill.

My lungs were screaming for air and the weight on my back hurt. I couldn't keep this up. I wanted to stop and pant but I couldn't or else we would all be burned to death. I was the one everyone was depending on. I wanted to shout encouragement to Omaha but that would take too much effort. Suddenly I stumbled and at the speed I was going, I fell. Noo! I let out a scream of terror as I went down.

Belle! I screamed as she crashed to the ground and I was thrown out of the saddle to the rocky ground below. I stood up feeling sharp pains go threw me as I hobbled over to Belle. Come on girl. Get up. Your OK. Your OK. I wasn't and I knew Chris couldn't be. Belle stood up shakily and I inspected her legs quickly. They were all fine besides cuts and scrapes and she was ready to ride again. Chris! Omaha! Where are you?! I shouted from on top of Belle. We had lost our head start on the fire and now it was gaining on us. Chris! Omaha! I shouted again. This was it. The home stretch. The final leg. Win or lose. We had to get out of here!

[Forte]

For the second time that day, Chris found himself face down in the dirt. The impact startled him; he felt the ribs that were already bruised and cracked snap against the hard Earth. When Belle had fallen, Omaha had spooked, pulling his owner straight off to the side and dragging him along the ground for a good few seconds before he had stopped, shaking uncontrollably, nostrils dilated and breath rattling. Chris groaned into the ground, his mouth full of dirt and his nose bleeding. Adrenaline was now coursing through his veins, however, and, ignoring the intense pain in his diaphragm, he rolled over and into a sitting position. His nose was streaming with blood, congealing in a deathly mask down the side of his face. His bare chest was bruised and cut, his knees skinned from having been dragged. Grabbing onto his saddle again, he pulled himself up into a stand, seeing bright fireworks burst before his eyes as his body fought towards unconsciousness. He attempted to call out to Stevie, but had to spit out a large quantity of dirt and blood before he could talk.

"Over here!" he attempted to shout, although it came out as more of a croaking rasp. He staggered over to where she and Belle were, clutching his ribs as he walked, evidently in a good deal of pain. Omaha was following nervously, seeming to have realized the direness of the situation and concerned for Chris, who was the only kind owner he had ever known. Chris looked a right mess, with a good deal of exposed skin covered in rug burns from having been dragged across the pebble-strewn ground and his face half-hidden by the blood from his nose, which had slowed to a mere drip. "I'll... have to ride Omaha. Do you think Belle can make it just a little further?" he said, after a moment, his voice hoarse. Without waiting for a reply he looked at Belle, "Easy now, sweet thing. That was a bad fall, I know, and you're frightened. So am I. But you have to carry Stevie just a little further, ok, sweetie? ...Just a little further."

So saying, he dragged himself up onto Omaha's back, staying him with the firmness of his one good hand. Omaha tossed his head nervously. "Belle, are you ok? We have to get away, and we have to save them, don't we? Come on, Belle, you can make it." He said, for the first time calming down. Chris's hand guiding him made all the difference to the gelding.

[racingbelle]

"I'll... have to ride Omaha. Do you think Belle can make it just a little further?" She'll be fine. She's a strong girl. Just had a little fall that's all. I was trying to keep calm and was really truly worried about Belle. He looked away form me and started to talk to Belle."Easy now, sweet thing. That was a bad fall, I know, and you're frightened. So am I. But you have to carry Stevie just a little further, ok, sweetie? ...Just a little further." I liked how he was calm in situations like this and how he communicated with horses. It seemed that we had the same connection with them. But Chris was getting weaker and that fall didn't help a thing. Chris hoisted himself into the saddle and I took a deep breath. Here we go the final stretch.

I wish everyone would stop fussing over me. I was strong and didn't get hurt easily. "Belle, are you ok? We have to get away, and we have to save them, don't we? Come on, Belle, you can make it." I tried to say something but couldn't. Then I took another deep breath and said. I'm fine. I just couldn't take the weight at that speed for much longer. Yes, we do have to save them. Their depending on us to get them out of this. Now stay calm like you are now and we'll make it out of here.

Belle was ready to go and so was I. Chris come on were about half a mile away from my trailer! We can make it if we hurry! The fire was close now and the flying embers had burnt whatever they touched, even skin. I urged Belle back into a steady gallop and she quickly picked up speed. Keep up! I knew everyone was tired but we were going to make it if only we could go faster!

[Forte]

Chris spurred on Omaha as much as he could in good conscience. The horse was still green, and his gaits were so sloppy that Chris knew he would take a bad fall if they went too fast down the mountain. Nonetheless, the path was wider here and they managed a fairly good hand gallop, though not nearly enough to keep up with the fleet thoroughbred mare. Chris was having trouble seeing now, his vision was tunneled and every time Omaha stumbled or bumped a little (which he did often), bright fireworks erupted against his eyelids. "Almost there... almost there," he kept saying, dream-like, riding in a trance. It was unclear who he was talking to, and it might have been just to keep himself conscious and keep Omaha going. The gelding was sweating profusely now, his neck foaming with the stuff, his legs shaking even as he ran.

Omaha's ear turned towards Belle as she spoke, but her words did not console him. "You fell hard, though..." he said, disconsolately, struggling to pull up closer to her. They had fallen almost a horse-length behind, and he couldn't make a little jump to keep up out of fear that he would throw Chris. He could sense that his rider was on the verge of collapse in any case, and was doing his best to keep the only human who he had ever loved aboard. With an effort, he stretched out his neck and picked up his pace, although Chris did not urge him forward. Chris was occupied merely with staying on, and was straining to see Stevie's trailer in the distance. In fact, he was looking so hard that he hardly noticed a change in the atmosphere around him. Suddenly, he became aware of a single, lonely, drop of rain that hit the side of his nose and ran down towards his mouth.

"Stevie, the storm's gonna break!" he called, joyously, from behind. But he could still feel the heat of the fire behind, and he knew that they still had to reach the trailer and shelter if they were going to make it. Raindrops were still falling slowly, not enough, yet, but the storm was building. The staccato rhythm began to pound his shoulders, regular, still not enough to abate the flame, but enough to convince him that they might just make it.

[racingbelle]

Chris wasn't going to hold on for much longer. Only his skill in the saddle was keeping him from falling as we made our way down the mountain. A vague blot took shape below. The trailer! We were saved! Chris! Hang on now stay with me! The trailer is less than a half a mile away. You have to push Omaha if we're going to make it in time. I added as I saw the gelding fall back getting closer and closer to the burning fire. I slowed Belle slightly so they could catch up. Chris come on now. Stay with me! We're almost there! You here?! We're almost there.

My owner was shouting at the other rider trying to keep him awake. I was slowed so Omaha could catch up with us. "You fell hard, though..." he said still concerned. I'm OK. Seriously. I've taken worse spills at the track. You need to worry about yourself. Chris too. He's barely holding on. Now when you get to the truck stop by the door and let your owner get off. Then go into the trailer. I'll do the same as soon as Stevie dismounts. We're almost there. We have to go faster Omaha. For the sake of our owners. Omaha the storms about to break! Smell that scent of rain! We're all save! I gave him some instructions and he was right I wasn't exactly OK. My back was strained and all of my legs hurt. I pounded harder trying to get Omaha to speed up.

"Stevie, the storm's gonna break!" He was right too for it began pouring rain, extinguishing the blaze behind us. We're saved I shouted to the sky and Chris. We're save! I laughed. We weren't out of danger yet but we were close. There! Chris the trailer! I stopped at the truck and dismounted, letting Belle loose. Come on Chris let me get you into the truck. I'll take care of the horses. We were so close now. If I could get Chris to the hospital it would all be over.

[Forte]

Chris was so dazed that he hardly saw the trailer in the distance, though he kept looking for it. The rain was coming harder, faster, soaking him, but he didn't mind. He rejoiced in the cold sting of it, the bitter memory of winter. Plus, it was difficult to slip into unconsciousness when the water stung across the cuts and bruises. He was grinning without really knowing it, a dreamy sort of look. He kept trying to listen to what Stevie was saying, but found that her voice was fading in and out again. As soon as she said that the trailer was close he saw it, and the warm glow of relief rose through his breast. He almost passed out, then. The adrenaline that had fueled him so far was starting to wear off now that it seemed they might actually survive this little adventure. Sensing that his rider was going slack in the saddle, Omaha gave a little jolt, and Chris straightened up again, a hardened expression on his face.

At Belle's words, Omaha did his best to stride out more without tripping over his own hooves. Although his muscle tone had improved since Chris had saved him, he was nothing compared to the shining, swift mare that ran ahead of him. "You're not fine," he said, worried, but he dropped the subject after that, determined to get to the trailer. Getting into a trailer was one thing that did not spook Omaha at all. After all, he'd been practically living in one for the last few months as Chris traveled around, looking for some purpose to his life. And, before that, the rodeo in which he had been a bucking bronco had moved around a great deal. He was used to all sorts of trailers. He sped up even more, desperate to leave this place.

Chris reined Omaha in very close to the mouth of the trailer and slid off of his back rather ungracefully, winding up on his butt in the mud. this hardly mattered, however. Normally, he would have protested Stevie's request to take care of Omaha, but seeing as he felt that he might pass out at any second, he allowed it. "All right," he said, quietly, "there's a halter in my saddle bag, and some polo wraps, which he probably won't let you put on. He'll go right in the trailer if you let him, though." He said, as he groped around for a hold and pulled himself into a stand again with the saddle horn. He stood precariously for a moment before sighing and shuffling off towards the truck, every fiber of his being protesting.