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Post by arzu on Jun 21, 2010 10:44:52 GMT -5
There were two people holding him, two ropes attached to the halter but that would never stop him. He pranced and side stepped throwing his head he managed to shake one. He stopped and pawed, throwing his weight into his hind end he reared pawing the air. This place wrecked of them all around, he landed and the ropes were quickly snatched and the held steady fast, get him into a pen. One man spoke, with as much quickness they got him into a pen and managed just to get the lead ropes off and out of the gate before the stallion kicked out landing it on the fence causing a loud bang. The stallion shot off around his pen kicking up dirt, he threw himself into another rear and tossed his head violently when he landed. Charging the fence line when the guy was taping the sign up he sunk his teeth into his flesh sending the man into a fit of howls. Rebel stopped in the middle of the pen, sides heaving head lowered and nares flared as he glared at the humans. A water bucket was quickly slipped in along with hay. Cautious steps were given as he checked the water over before lowering his head to sip at it always on watch, he already knew he was going to be in this awful place for awhile so he should make the best of it.
Name: Rebel Pride
Breed: Mustang
Color: Dun
Temperament: Firey, Trust issues, Un broke
Price: $160
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Post by Forte on Jun 21, 2010 13:29:43 GMT -5
Chris didn't need another horse - he kept telling himself that. For some reason, though, he couldn't stop himself from walking past the sales pens every day, looking at the ragged little ponies among the fancy, multiple-prize-winning eventers and show jumpers and racers and the like. How many of those little ponies, priced under a thousand dollars usually, had he seen that were happier than those high-bred horses? A lot, that was the answer, and it always made him feel a little dampened. So it came to pass that he was just strolling through when he heard a man howling in pain. He looked up sharply to see a little dun colt charging the side of the pen. His heart did a little skipping hop as he recognized the horse as a mustang, further recognized him as having the extremely unusual coloring that had prevailed in a small group of mustangs that he had helped rescue from the BLM not months ago. That had been before he'd moved here, before he'd left off rescuing horses from BLM sales. He didn't know if he had seen this particular colt, because they had mostly been taking older horses.
"Excuse me," he said to the man standing near the pen, "this horse wouldn't happen to have been rounded up by the BLM, would he?" His suspicions were almost immediately confirmed, and for a moment he stood and looked at the little colt with his low price and "fiery" disposition. "I'll take him." He said, at last, against all conscience but unable to refuse the opportunity to continue doing what he did best. The horse could stay at Evergreen for a little bit while Chris looked for a job, but whatever the case he was going to get this stallion out of here. He came up to the fence and leaned against it silently, just watching, not saying anything to the colt. Getting him into a trailer was going to be fun.
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Post by arzu on Jun 21, 2010 13:40:00 GMT -5
As he was drinking his water a man, whom was very different from the BLM guys showed up, he could hear the uttering of words and then the man leaned against his fence! The colt squealed and stepped back, turning sharply on his hindquarter, he moved away with easy. He reared threaten the man to try and get him. He landed and lowered his head glaring at him, he wanted him to try. Snorting he tossed his head and charged the fence, going to sink his teeth once again into someone’s flesh but he veered off afraid he was going to touch him. He stopped, becoming curious as to why this particular human had not thrown his body to the ground? He snorted and walked to the back of his pen, head lowering and glaring at the man. The guy walked back, Hes all yours good luck. with that he left the crazy man with his new horse
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Post by Forte on Jun 21, 2010 13:46:13 GMT -5
Chris, who had seen other horses do the same thing, didn't move a muscle during the whole show and just kept leaning against the fence and watching the colt. He wasn't a bad horse, really, Chris decided, he was just scared and used to humans being scared of him. As the colt moved to the furthest edge of the pen, Chris quietly opened the gate and slipped through, never once taking his eyes of the horse as he latched it back behind him. "Easy now," he said, a low rumble under his breath, "I'm not going to hurt you." He didn't move towards the horse or anything, just stood there, watching him, letting him make the next move. This was the way he'd always been taught - not to show fear, but to be respectful of every living thing and not press them further than they think they can go.
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Post by arzu on Jun 21, 2010 13:52:50 GMT -5
The colts ears flicked back and forth as the man entered, he wanted out of here! He squealed and trotted around the guy, picking up speed he jumped and cleared the fence. Continuing down the aisle, he felt a rope snag around his neck and pull tight. He whinnied and tossed his head as ropes were tossed around his legs and pulled tight so he would fall. Some big guys held the thrashing colt down wail they clipped lead rope on to his halter. The breath had been knocked out of him as they un did the ropes and pulled him to his feet, he stood there sides heaving waiting.
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Post by Forte on Jun 21, 2010 14:00:00 GMT -5
Chris barely had time to process what was happening, the next thing he knew the horse was being brought down by a ton of people. "Get off of him!" he called, angrily, throwing open the gate and storming down the aisle to shoo the men away from the terrified colt. "How dare you treat a colt like that!" All the same, he grabbed hold of the end of the lead rope, looking back at how quickly the horse was breathing. He forced himself to take a deep breath and calm down so that the colt would - if he was angry and impatient, it would do nothing good for the horse. Holding the end of the rope firmly, he took a step forward and let it go slack, so that the colt had freedom of movement. Although, he reflected, this was probably not the best of ideas if the horse was going to try some crazy stunt like jumping another fence - that couldn't be good for a two-year-old's knees.
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Post by arzu on Jun 21, 2010 14:08:11 GMT -5
Even with the rope gone slack he did not move. His breathing did not slow it only stayed the same. Rebel lowered his head, tip of his nose touching the concrete as he drew in more breaths and then finally slowed his breathing down. His bi colored mane hung in clumps on his sweat lathered neck. He did not raise his head much, just to look at the man, he walked forward and then stopped. Turning his head to say come one before I change my mind. He turned back and waited.
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Post by Forte on Jun 21, 2010 14:18:56 GMT -5
Chris waited and let the colt catch his breath. He was surprised when the horse took a step towards him - but didn't push him any further. He didn't want to touch Rebel until he was good and sure that he could bear the feel of a strange hand. Clearly the horse wasn't used to anything but roughness and forcing from humans, and Chris didn't want to force him to do anything. With the lead still slack he started to walk in the direction of the trailer, not looking back to see if the colt would follow, but rather trusting him to. Besides, if he were in Rebel's place he would want to get away from there as fast as possible.
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Post by arzu on Jun 21, 2010 14:26:04 GMT -5
Rebel followed behind the man, he did not seem like he was going to hurt him. He picked up his pace so he was closer to him, was that one of those things that tamed horse liked? What was it called a treat? He reached out his mug and bumped the man and snatched whatever was in his pocket, it sure did not taste like a treat it tasted nasty and leathery. He continued to hold onto it and chew on it slightly. Trying to figure out what it was, but he could not so he tossed it at the back of the mans head, whickering softly as he stopped and waited for him to pick it up, in the mean time he snatched his hat and played with that too.
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Post by Forte on Jun 22, 2010 10:59:54 GMT -5
Chris couldn't help but chuckle when he felt his wallet sliding out of his pocket. "Ouch!" he yelped as it hit the back of his head. Turned out that the mustang was just a regular old colt anyway. It was pretty amazing what a little calmness and kindness could do to a horse. His hat already bore the tooth marks of more than one curious horse. With a chuckle he dug around in his pocket and found a sugar cube. He held it out, palm up and flat, and took hold of the edge of his hat. "Here, I'll trade you, you big ham."
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Post by arzu on Jun 22, 2010 11:46:29 GMT -5
As he took a hold of the end of his hat and held a sugar cube out, the colt took a step back and tugged on the hat. He shook his head, still eying the sugar cube, pondering it over then he dropped the hat and snatched the sugar cube so quick it was gone in a second. He squealed in surprise at the taste and stuck his tongue out, sugar granules all over it and the majority of it fell out of his mouth, what was that crunchy nasty thing that felt like sand? He shook his head and pawed the ground, working his mouth back and forth, his tongue still hung out, Please oh please make the taste go away! He squealed again and shook his head, his hooked, black tipped ear flopping to the side. When he was sure he had gotten the taste out of his mouth he looked at the mane, ears pricked waiting.
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Post by Forte on Jun 23, 2010 9:57:02 GMT -5
Chris pulled his hat down safely around his head, laughing at the colt's expression. He had obviously never had sugar before, and to be honest Chris was kind of glad that he didn't like it. Usually, if a horse needed a little persuasion, a handful of grain would do the trick. However, he wasn't in the habit of carrying grain around in his pocket, and Omaha was rather fond of sugar cubes. "Alright, here we are..." said Chris, as they came up to the trailer. It was an older, one-horse deal, once bright red but now dulled to an ugly red-orange color. He opened the gates, and saw that the hay net in the back was still mostly full, which was good. Just to see what the colt would do, Chris walked in himself - there was no ramp, so he had to take a large step to get up, keeping the lead line slack, waiting to see if the colt would follow of his own volition but doubting that he would.
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Post by arzu on Jun 23, 2010 10:15:26 GMT -5
He followed the man out to the metal thing of doom! Watching as he climbed inside, he pranced and side stepped outside. Then he stuck a hoof on the metal thing and pawed at it, it made a terrible noise and so he jumped back. He sniffed it and stuck both front hoofs on it, but he just could not convince his rump to get in, so he stretched his neck as far as it would go. Just so he could touch the man. Then he went back to the task of getting his rump to follow, when it finally did he skittered in and kicked out as there was another loud noise, he squealed and wanted to back out but he did not. He stood there with a stunned look in his eyes and then shivered because that’s all he felt he could do. He looked at the man and then touched his chest, stomach and shoulder, before deciding he was not bad and rested his whole head on the mans shoulder. He snorted and waited.
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Post by Forte on Jun 23, 2010 10:22:39 GMT -5
"That's a good boy," Chris murmured, softly, not wanting to scare the horse into backing back out of the trailer. As he spoke, he stroked the colt's neck softly, figuring that if the horse was willing to lay his head on his shoulder like that, he must trust him. Rebel really wasn't a bad horse at all, in fact, he was quite a good horse, young, a little nervous of people, but still willing to trust. And he was really brave - he had jumped the side of the sales pen, which hadn't been particularly small, and now he'd come up into the trailer. Rebel would make a good cutting horse if ever Chris knew one, and no doubt he would like having a job to do. With his free hand, Chris reached back and closed the safety bar - not the gate to the trailer, softly, as not to spook Rebel. If the colt decided to flip out now it wouldn't be good for Chris, considering he was trapped in the trailer with him.
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Post by arzu on Jun 23, 2010 11:38:29 GMT -5
He jumped a little at the touch but allowed it none the less. As the bar was shut behind his rump, he squealed, now he could not back. He lifted his head and shook it, No he did not like this, he whickered and shifted trying to find an out but not wanting to hurt him, he finally settled, he just wanted to go now, so he could get out of this thing. It was making him nervous to be in here. He touched the man again but threw his head back and then raised it. His ears flicked un easily, as he watched another horse go, and then something blew by the trailer and that really set him off, he kicked the trailer and tossed his head throwing it back again, his ears pinned and kicked out again. He whinnied and side stepped and began to pranced, snorting and whickering. He finally settled and lowered his head, ears pricked forward, waiting for him to touch him again.
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