Tex
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Post by Tex on Sept 12, 2008 8:11:27 GMT
The young woman leaned back in Jesse's saddle, and for the thousandth time check the rope keeping her wild filly attached to her bay. The filly had a sweet temperament, and she wasn't really worried about it attacking her or damaging itself, but the pretty thing could run away. No matter how nice a person was to a horse, the 'call of the wild' had still succumbed many a horse. And, being a young horse with no herd or mother, being wild could be disastrous. The filly might not know how to take care of herself. She half-smiled and reached out to stroke the forehead of her filly, making sure that her fingers didn't pull its ears or poke its eye. She hadn't made a name for it yet, either, which was kind of a drawback... but that's beside the point. Once Alison thought up a name that was perfectly fitted, she would give it to the pretty filly. The hut came into view, and the rider, horse and younger brumby entered the large pen just outside of it. Alison dismounted, shut the gate and locked it, before striding calmly to her horse and untying the rope that secured Birubi to her mare. After that, the young woman untacked her mare and left the gear on the fence so she could stroke both girls and get them used to their pen that had been used by themselves just a few months ago. Alison remembered capturing Birubi, seeing her beauty against the other wild horses and decided to take her as one would take a gem from a rubbish bin and cherish it. So far, Alison hadn't tried any training apart from getting her used to humans and not being afraid of her. That had been an improvement, but by no means was she yet a tame horse. After a few minutes of stroking the horses, Alison moved back and sat on the long wooden poles, watching to see if there was any trouble with her girls.
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Post by tingara on Sept 14, 2008 10:54:10 GMT
Behind Jesse Birubi trotted happily, resigned to her usual spot behind the mare. As they drew closer to the hut a wave of recognition hit the filly and the urge to run free, the one she’d repressed for her months with humans became once again strong. Everywhere were the scents of brumbies. Familiar scents began to creep out of the snowgums. The scent of her uncle Tingara and his herd, Nevada and, Birubi cringed, her mother. The ache that had been repressed began to flow through Birubi’s veins and she longed to be at her mother’s side.
Now Birubi’s mood had changed as memories of last summer sprang to mind. She thought about kicking up a fuss and trying to escape the pen but that would just worry Alison and she’d always be watching. Maybe if she called up to the mountains her family would hear her? The filly tried to hide her agitation and walked to the far corner of the yard. She was quiet which was a new thing for the young horse.
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Tex
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Post by Tex on Sept 14, 2008 12:12:57 GMT
Alison relaxed, happy to be back in the High Country. She was aware of the dangers that arose from bringing her filly back to her home, but thought that doing this was the best way to get the filly fully used to her new life. She would not let any brumby bring her beautiful filly back to the wild, where anything could happen. Her filly could get hurt! Yeah, freedom is great, but has she forgotten the bad winters? The danger of rogue stallions? Dingos that were half-starved? Or the poisonous snakes? Perhaps she was too young to know about this. Jesse sniffed at the filly, and snorted in a disgruntled way. She knew what the filly was thinking of, and felt indignant that her best horse friend would prefer some mangy old colts to her presence. She lipped at the filly's withers calmly, and whinnied to try and get her young friend to her senses. Did she really want to abandon this old mare to be alone in an empty pen? Jesse watched the filly with concerned eyes, waiting for any response she could pull out of the filly's soul.
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Post by tingara on Sept 18, 2008 11:16:32 GMT
Birubi shrugged off Jesse’s attempt at comforting her. She gave a low, threatening whinny directed to the mare to tell her to back off for a bit. The young filly made her way over to the farthest corner from anyone and began to stare at the mountains. She found she barely remembered them from her early foal-hood. Birubi dwelled on it for awhile. She became even sadder when she found she could barely remember her brothers and cousins, the smell of the Snow-gums on a spring evening and the feeling of the wind through her mane as she raced across the planes.
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Tex
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Post by Tex on Sept 19, 2008 5:32:42 GMT
Jesse-s ears drooped, and she loped away to stand by her owner, nuzzling her pockets in hope of the presence of treats. She felt really upset at the filly's rejection, and so turned to human comfort to make herself feel better. Her liquid-brown eyes watched Alison pleadingly, begging to be stroked and fed treats. Alison opened her eyes at the touch of horse flesh, and snorted in laughter at Jesse's expression. She had discovered that the filly rejected a lot of contact, probably because she had been born wild. That would change, though. She fully intended to keep her beautiful filly, at least until she was old enough in her eyes to survive without help. The young woman forced a hand into the chosen pocket, and came back out bearing gifts of peppermints. Jesse squealed in delight, and used her lips to delicately lift the peppermints into her mouth, sucking happily on them.
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Post by tingara on Sept 20, 2008 5:34:52 GMT
Birubi was almost tempted from her sulking by the smell of the sweet peppermints that Alison often gave the horses. Already she could taste it on her tongue but no. Birubi was in no mood for treats. Still she gazed up at the mountains. The birds of the range were gossiping with more force than usual and Birubi listened on intently. It seemed that four stallions were locked in epic fights. One fight seemed destined to end in death and the other was uncertain. On wards Birubi listened, beginning to get nervous. The battles involved the King, Tingara and Nevada, maybe they were fighting each other? Now Birubi was tipped over the edge. She let out a loud call that she hoped against hope would carry over the mountains.
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Tex
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Post by Tex on Sept 21, 2008 0:49:54 GMT
Alison and Jesse watched the filly, the human deciding to let her say hi to her old friends and the horse wondering who she was neighing to. Alison was sure she wouldn't leave, for a lot of reasons, but mainly because she was going to hobble her horses at night and let them do what they want, but still be watched during the day. Also, Birubi didn't know how to survive in the wild, and she might even come back of her own volition. There were a few other reasons, but she was thinking about those. Jesse decided to not care, and began to graze on the sparce grass that grew a bit out of the pen. Because there had been no other horses yet, no-one had eaten this special stuff yet.
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Post by tingara on Sept 22, 2008 2:35:54 GMT
Her call echoed through the valley but none answered her. Birubi let out another but still nobody answered, not even strange brumbies. Dejectedly the little filly resigned herself to what little grass there was to eat. Bitterly she pulled at it, not really eating it. A faint breeze whispered through the snowgums and on it was the story of two black horses both fighting greys. How the filly wished she was there to watch, to cheer and to stand, quivering, along side her mother.
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Tex
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Post by Tex on Sept 22, 2008 2:42:14 GMT
Alison climbed off the post with a sigh, and walked aimlessly about the dust and the area around the hut. She wasn't really sure what to do, but it wouldn't hurt to teach the filly a few things, she supposed. The young woman quickly walked to the shed, where all of their belongings had been left during the winter, and brought back a halter and lead rope to the pen. She climbed back in, and held it out to her filly, making reassuring noises.
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Post by tingara on Sept 22, 2008 2:47:23 GMT
Birubi lifted her head and eyed Alison suspiciously as the human made her way over. In her hand was a rope halter and a lead rope. Painful memories of being ripped from her herd flashed across the filly's memory. Ears flat on her neck, Birubi pawed the ground nervously. She was tense, her muscles bunched and ready to spring into the instinctive reaction of flight.
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