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Post by mAdDiE! on May 1, 2009 23:30:50 GMT -5
Mudslyde's deep chocolate orbs brightened as she stood on the other side of the pasture, flicking her whipcord and pawing the hard terrain with her hooves in anticipation. It had been all too easy jumping the wooden fence, and she snorted as the other equines stared after her. Turning brisquely and abandoning the other horses, she boldly stepped forward, swaying as she walked towards the open gate leading away from the stables and into the forest. Navigating the trails would be interesting and much more exciting than staying in the paddocks all day. A change of scenery was much appreciated. Stepping towards her destination at an even pace, she suddenly lifted her crown and arched her crest, auds pricked as she listened. Faint footsteps of boots on the concrete floors could be heard. The second she caught sight of a stablehand with a lasso and crop she reared, bringing her daggers close to her chest as she balanced herself on her hindlegs, lashing out. Baring her ivories and neighing viciously, she backed away from the crop, images and memories flashing in her mind from her foal years. From the times she was abused. It had been two years, though she was still only four years old now.
Landing back on her forelegs hard, she stumbled at first as she tried to turn back around, but she was determined to get away before she was captured. Quickly manuvering into a trot, then lope, she stepped on a water bottle and jumped. Spooking, the mare darted forwards, bolting away from the stables, her pools white with fear and surprise. After galloping a good ways into the woods, she slowed down and then halted, flaring her nostrils and taking in the surrounding scents. She could smell another horse. Perking up slightly and becoming more spirited, she pinned back her doublets cautiously and whinnyed softly, then nickered loudly in greeting. She held her dial high and shifted her weight to her front left leg, her glossy paint pelt shining. She was still well groomed, except for the occasional twig or leaf now tangled in her banner. Tossing her head, Mudslyde's sleek muscles rippled under her tight coat. She waited impatiently for the stallion to show himself, breathing in the fresh air. After growing tired of standing, she began trotting through the trees again, swishing her tail.
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Post by Forte! on May 2, 2009 11:23:15 GMT -5
Ace stretched out at a long lope away from the stables, tossing his dial proudly at his escape. His lead rope trailed out behind him, slapping across his flanks and hocks, dancing with the wind in his mane. He was quite a sight, stopping now to look back at the bewildered little stable boy who was looking at his rope burned hands. He snorted, letting out a little horse laugh and dancing as the boy looked up, and then continued his high lope away. Dumb boy! He hadn't even bothered to make sure that Ace wasn't going to gallop off again at the drop of a hat. He probably thought that Ace was a perfect gentleman, being a prize show jumper and all. Not the case. The piebald stallion was quickly out of sight, kicking up dust as he broke into a high-spirited gallop, his banner to the wind. The fact that the halter was still on hardly bothered him, he'd just go off into the woods and find some strong tree to break the leather strap with. It was hitting his back in a rather annoying way, however... He bucked as it slapped his flank, feeling fine in the cool Autumn weather and made near-mad by freedom and the boy's calls that followed him.
The warmblood slowed as he came to the trails, shifting easily into an extended trot, nostril flaring as he took a few deep breaths. It wasn't a long run, but his blood was up and he was raring to get the itch out of his hooves. First things first, though. He rubbed his poll up against the rough bark of a pine for a while and, sure as anything, the leather breakaway strap on his halter snapped. Now that the nuisance of a rope was gone, he set off at a spanking trot up the trails, hoping to surprise some horse and rider pairs. The little shrieks that the humans gave at seeing a 'wild' horse on the trails always amused him, and he always managed to dodge capture one way or another, dancing just out of reach. A sudden shift in the wind made him slam on the breaks, forelegs stiff as he propped into a stop. The scent of another horse had hit him full force, and this one had no scent of rider or tack. Cocking his dial curiously, Ace pricked his ears at the whinny. He considered for a moment, wondering why there was another horse here at all. Could she be a wild? No. He could smell human on her, but it wasn't fresh.
After a moment's consideration, he whinnied in return, and began a cautious walk towards the source of the noise, his ears twitching, aware of every noise. His nares flared, and his stretched out his neck at the edge of the shaded wood, before lifting it again at the sound of approaching hoofbeats. He danced in place, backing up a step as the sun-dappled shape of a mare came into view. He arched his crest and walked forward to greet her, as good-natured as any horse when it came to other horses. Especially mares. "Hello, there," he said, studying the patched pelt of the mare in the shifting light that cut through the leaves of the canopy, "Would you be offended if I inquired as to why you are here? I'm Ace, by the way." He added the last bit rather hastily, snorting as he studied the mare. Younger than him by at least three years, that was sure, and she looked like she might be a runaway, too.
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