Post by almost | spotless on Mar 6, 2008 17:55:05 GMT -5
So I might decide I dislike this and in that case I'll delete it, or I might decide I should continue with it on and on and on. So yeahh.
An almond shaped chocolate brown eye was all that was visible through the barred stall door that Virginia Melling gazed through with careful concentration. It was wide, the pupils dilated and fearful of what lay outside of the stinking darkness of the stall. The mare had a heavy set face, and her eyes were oddly sunken. Her expression was that of fear, yet disinterest. She was much too dehydrated to have much apprehension at the teenager that approached her, halter and lead rope in hand. The mare moved to the back of her stall, her head thrown into light by the narrow window, once sparkling, but now covered with years of grime. She had halter rubbings, deep imprints up and down her chestnut cheek bone and muzzle where the hair grew naught. Her hooves were long, and an entire piece of the wall was missing from one of them. The mare's entire body was littered with long scars, some of them healing, some of them scabby and recent. The pungent smell of horse urine left unturned under the dirty shavings penetrated Virginia's nostrils, a scent that made her cringe with nausea. She shook her head, forcing herself to breath through her nose, and slid the stall door open a crack. Immediately, the mare swung to meet her, dark eyes hard from years of abuse. She gazed at Virginia, unmoving, her nostrils flaring. Virginia murmured some words in a soothing tone, staring anywhere but the mare's eyes. She was not a threat. This mare needed to know that.
"Hey pretty girl..."
Her voice seemed to penetrate years of silence from the mare. Her ears perked up, and she looked suddenly more animated. She rippled her muscles, her deep copper colored coat thrown into greater relief. Virginia swallowed an audible gasp, making her sharp intake of air almost inaudible. She'd caught site of another scar, this one if anything more gruesome then the others. What had happened to the chestnut to give her such gruesome marks? What had inflicted so much damage on the little mare's mind? She swallowed heavily, trying not to inhale to much of the malodorous air as she did. Deep brown bangs were plastered to her pale forehead, now reddened with sunburn. Wide blue-green eyes were just visible beneath these bangs. Virginia paused, ready for any movement from the mare, however she stood stock still, as if paralyzed, ready for flight. Virginia closed in, keeping her eyes downcast still. Everything she could do to keep the little chestnut as calm as possible for as long as possible, would be her goal. She reached up her hand, and slipped the halter over the mare's head, astounded at how still she stayed. Her coat twitched, and it seemed for a moment she debated running. But she stayed, her legs splayed out across the damp bedding, her entire body quivering with fear, or perhaps excitement. Virginia gave a light tug on the lead rope and made to open the stall door. First it seemed as if the mare would follow her, cautiously, with no reason to trust her, but follow her nonetheless. She began to pick her way carefully through the stall, but the sight of the outside suddenly seemed to unwire her like nothing Virginia had done had made her stir before.
She bolted. With strength of a horse that had not been starved for months, she cantered out of the stall, pulling the rope through Virginia's hands. Virginia cursed, feeling the rope burn her calloused palms. She new better than to hold on. She felt hooves against her shin before she could pull her foot away from the sticky bedding and the mare's flailing legs. Virginia fell to the ground, her leg throbbing horridly. Already the bruising has started it seemed, a jagged tear in Virginia's jeans that revealed reddened skin beneath it. Virginia heaved herself up using the wall to take wait off her leg. She could hear hooves clatter against the short cement aisle. Virginia managed to get herself out of the stall. She limped down the aisle and into the fenced in area that was connected to the barn where the mare had thrown down her head to graze, once again weak. She snatched up grass, her velvety dark muzzle feeling around to separate the prickers from the browning strands. Virginia leaned against the paddock fence, trying to stop splinters from shoving themselves into her burnt hands. She moved out of the shade of the barn, and immediately the hot summer sun beat down on freckled neck, perspiration littering her entire body. Despite this, it was cooler than it had been in the poorly ventilated barn, and she welcomed the change in temperature. Her mother's slender frame was visible on the other side of the fence. Lauren Melling had the same lanky legs and pale skin, although her hair was a shade lighter then Virginia's and her eyes were a startlingly cornflower blue. She was dressed similarly to her daughter, her wranglers old and faded, a light blue tank top clinging to her sweaty torso. Atop her head was a distressed pink baseball cap reading NRHA although it was barely visible. She had the rugged look of one who'd been outside her entire life. She was looking with obvious concern at the mare who'd just come barreling out, and then her daughter who limped along the paddock wall in quite a lot of pain judging by the expression pressed onto her features.
"I... er... got her out."
Virginia tried to smile, but she managed only a pained sort of grimace as her leg gave another particularly sharp throb. But Lauren was looking toward the mare, running a critical eye over her entire body. She had deduced that her daughter was not in mortal danger, and was now only concerned with the state of the little mare. She hoped the fence easily, a bucket of water in her hand. Most likely, it had electrolytes in it to aid the mare's dehydration. Lauren sighed audibly, watching the chestnut graze contentedly under a sprawling oak tree. She approached almost silently, placing the water and backing away just as quietly. Lauren had no desire to stimulate the explosive reaction that left Virginia hobbling along the fence line, trying to get up and over without putting pressure on the injured leg. Finally, satisfied that the mare was drinking, she turned her gaze on her daughter, although it was a good deal less endearing then the expression she wore while looking at the mare.
"You okay Ginny?"
Ginny managed another grimace.
"Fine mom, just fine."
"Good, get in the truck."
Although her leg had begun to sting painfully, Virginia clamored into the truck. The key was in the ignition, and she started it, easing herself up into the cab. Lauren was just concerned, that was all. She wasn't usually this cold...
Lauren's voice interrupted her thoughts.
"I'd like to get her in the trailer while she's still a bit mellowed out. It's a short ride back to the farm, then we can really get her set up. She's not too severely dehydrated, which is a miracle because she's been left alone for so long. She's pretty emaciated, so we should think about making her something that's easy on her stomach tonight. From the looks of her, she looks like some sort of mustang cross. But who knows how long she's been here, and what kind of state her digestive track is in? So we should proceed with up most caution." Her tone was brisk and businesslike, and she didn't meet Virginia's gaze as she spoke. Virginia caught hold of her hand, holding it for a moment. Despite the blistering heat, it was clammy and cold. That explained it. Lauren was nervous.
"Mom."
"Yeah Ginny?"
"It's okay."
"Yeah, okay."
She had adopted the tone of a parent talking to a three year old, but Virginia knew the effect was a calming one. She knew her mother too well to think that she was cold without reason. It was the manor she adopted whenever something was particularly stressful to her conscience. Virginia let herself sigh heavily, watching her mother take a swig of water and mop at her sweating brow. It was unseasonably hot for early June, and already both Mellings were frustrated with the odd fluctuation in temperature. Virginia knew right this second she should probably glance out the window to see what had become of her mother's attempt to get the chestnut mare on the trailer, but she had no desire to limp back out into the sweltering heat, if only to glance at something she no longer had any interest in. At first she had been fascinated by the situation that had arisen, but now she had decided it was plainly too hot to care. It was an unfortunate aspect of her personality that she was hardly proud of. Her ability to lose interest was something that surprised her often and in unfortunate ways.
[ I have absolutely no plot. So we shall see where this goes. ]
An almond shaped chocolate brown eye was all that was visible through the barred stall door that Virginia Melling gazed through with careful concentration. It was wide, the pupils dilated and fearful of what lay outside of the stinking darkness of the stall. The mare had a heavy set face, and her eyes were oddly sunken. Her expression was that of fear, yet disinterest. She was much too dehydrated to have much apprehension at the teenager that approached her, halter and lead rope in hand. The mare moved to the back of her stall, her head thrown into light by the narrow window, once sparkling, but now covered with years of grime. She had halter rubbings, deep imprints up and down her chestnut cheek bone and muzzle where the hair grew naught. Her hooves were long, and an entire piece of the wall was missing from one of them. The mare's entire body was littered with long scars, some of them healing, some of them scabby and recent. The pungent smell of horse urine left unturned under the dirty shavings penetrated Virginia's nostrils, a scent that made her cringe with nausea. She shook her head, forcing herself to breath through her nose, and slid the stall door open a crack. Immediately, the mare swung to meet her, dark eyes hard from years of abuse. She gazed at Virginia, unmoving, her nostrils flaring. Virginia murmured some words in a soothing tone, staring anywhere but the mare's eyes. She was not a threat. This mare needed to know that.
"Hey pretty girl..."
Her voice seemed to penetrate years of silence from the mare. Her ears perked up, and she looked suddenly more animated. She rippled her muscles, her deep copper colored coat thrown into greater relief. Virginia swallowed an audible gasp, making her sharp intake of air almost inaudible. She'd caught site of another scar, this one if anything more gruesome then the others. What had happened to the chestnut to give her such gruesome marks? What had inflicted so much damage on the little mare's mind? She swallowed heavily, trying not to inhale to much of the malodorous air as she did. Deep brown bangs were plastered to her pale forehead, now reddened with sunburn. Wide blue-green eyes were just visible beneath these bangs. Virginia paused, ready for any movement from the mare, however she stood stock still, as if paralyzed, ready for flight. Virginia closed in, keeping her eyes downcast still. Everything she could do to keep the little chestnut as calm as possible for as long as possible, would be her goal. She reached up her hand, and slipped the halter over the mare's head, astounded at how still she stayed. Her coat twitched, and it seemed for a moment she debated running. But she stayed, her legs splayed out across the damp bedding, her entire body quivering with fear, or perhaps excitement. Virginia gave a light tug on the lead rope and made to open the stall door. First it seemed as if the mare would follow her, cautiously, with no reason to trust her, but follow her nonetheless. She began to pick her way carefully through the stall, but the sight of the outside suddenly seemed to unwire her like nothing Virginia had done had made her stir before.
She bolted. With strength of a horse that had not been starved for months, she cantered out of the stall, pulling the rope through Virginia's hands. Virginia cursed, feeling the rope burn her calloused palms. She new better than to hold on. She felt hooves against her shin before she could pull her foot away from the sticky bedding and the mare's flailing legs. Virginia fell to the ground, her leg throbbing horridly. Already the bruising has started it seemed, a jagged tear in Virginia's jeans that revealed reddened skin beneath it. Virginia heaved herself up using the wall to take wait off her leg. She could hear hooves clatter against the short cement aisle. Virginia managed to get herself out of the stall. She limped down the aisle and into the fenced in area that was connected to the barn where the mare had thrown down her head to graze, once again weak. She snatched up grass, her velvety dark muzzle feeling around to separate the prickers from the browning strands. Virginia leaned against the paddock fence, trying to stop splinters from shoving themselves into her burnt hands. She moved out of the shade of the barn, and immediately the hot summer sun beat down on freckled neck, perspiration littering her entire body. Despite this, it was cooler than it had been in the poorly ventilated barn, and she welcomed the change in temperature. Her mother's slender frame was visible on the other side of the fence. Lauren Melling had the same lanky legs and pale skin, although her hair was a shade lighter then Virginia's and her eyes were a startlingly cornflower blue. She was dressed similarly to her daughter, her wranglers old and faded, a light blue tank top clinging to her sweaty torso. Atop her head was a distressed pink baseball cap reading NRHA although it was barely visible. She had the rugged look of one who'd been outside her entire life. She was looking with obvious concern at the mare who'd just come barreling out, and then her daughter who limped along the paddock wall in quite a lot of pain judging by the expression pressed onto her features.
"I... er... got her out."
Virginia tried to smile, but she managed only a pained sort of grimace as her leg gave another particularly sharp throb. But Lauren was looking toward the mare, running a critical eye over her entire body. She had deduced that her daughter was not in mortal danger, and was now only concerned with the state of the little mare. She hoped the fence easily, a bucket of water in her hand. Most likely, it had electrolytes in it to aid the mare's dehydration. Lauren sighed audibly, watching the chestnut graze contentedly under a sprawling oak tree. She approached almost silently, placing the water and backing away just as quietly. Lauren had no desire to stimulate the explosive reaction that left Virginia hobbling along the fence line, trying to get up and over without putting pressure on the injured leg. Finally, satisfied that the mare was drinking, she turned her gaze on her daughter, although it was a good deal less endearing then the expression she wore while looking at the mare.
"You okay Ginny?"
Ginny managed another grimace.
"Fine mom, just fine."
"Good, get in the truck."
Although her leg had begun to sting painfully, Virginia clamored into the truck. The key was in the ignition, and she started it, easing herself up into the cab. Lauren was just concerned, that was all. She wasn't usually this cold...
Lauren's voice interrupted her thoughts.
"I'd like to get her in the trailer while she's still a bit mellowed out. It's a short ride back to the farm, then we can really get her set up. She's not too severely dehydrated, which is a miracle because she's been left alone for so long. She's pretty emaciated, so we should think about making her something that's easy on her stomach tonight. From the looks of her, she looks like some sort of mustang cross. But who knows how long she's been here, and what kind of state her digestive track is in? So we should proceed with up most caution." Her tone was brisk and businesslike, and she didn't meet Virginia's gaze as she spoke. Virginia caught hold of her hand, holding it for a moment. Despite the blistering heat, it was clammy and cold. That explained it. Lauren was nervous.
"Mom."
"Yeah Ginny?"
"It's okay."
"Yeah, okay."
She had adopted the tone of a parent talking to a three year old, but Virginia knew the effect was a calming one. She knew her mother too well to think that she was cold without reason. It was the manor she adopted whenever something was particularly stressful to her conscience. Virginia let herself sigh heavily, watching her mother take a swig of water and mop at her sweating brow. It was unseasonably hot for early June, and already both Mellings were frustrated with the odd fluctuation in temperature. Virginia knew right this second she should probably glance out the window to see what had become of her mother's attempt to get the chestnut mare on the trailer, but she had no desire to limp back out into the sweltering heat, if only to glance at something she no longer had any interest in. At first she had been fascinated by the situation that had arisen, but now she had decided it was plainly too hot to care. It was an unfortunate aspect of her personality that she was hardly proud of. Her ability to lose interest was something that surprised her often and in unfortunate ways.
[ I have absolutely no plot. So we shall see where this goes. ]
