For Sale: Ravage

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The young stallion stood at the gate of the small pen he was contained in. His dark coat showed the signs of dry sweat from the constant pacing he'd been doing upon arriving there the night before. The hay that he'd been given that morning remained untouched at the other end of the pen. A man sat outside his pen calmly flipping through a newspaper and ignoring the young stallion, who began banging his front leg against the gate as he pawed at the ground.

Ravage snorted before tossing his head, sending his long black mane flying. He walked down the length of the tiny pen before turning around and walking back. He lowered his head and attempted to grab a hold of the paper that was tied onto the gate that contained the little information they had about him. Already the paper was slightly ripped in places when he'd managed to get a hold of it earlier.

"Git away from there," the man muttered, waving his newspaper at the stallion to prevent him from ripping up the sign. It was the third one he had to make that morning and the writing on the sign was quite messy already. Of course he could always just stick the paper somewhere else where Ravage couldn't reach it, but he didn't seem to have thought of that. Ravage shied away, the whites of his eyes showing as he began to nervously pace the pen again as crowds of people walked by.

Ravage, 7 years old stallion, breed unknown. Was previously wild. Needs experienced handler-very green broke. $500.

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The new trainer of Bar-B was feeling the itch of ownership once again. Sure, she had two barns filled with resident horses to keep up with, and she was doing her job well, but none of them were hers. She had considered purchasing one of the ones available for sale, but none had really struck a chord with her. So, she found herself meandering about the auction grounds. Hands in her pockets, thumbing the wad of bills she brought along just in case, her bright emerald eyes darted through the dozens of pens, trying to seek out something that resmbled a horse. For the most part, it seemed they all had interest in some form or another. She even caught sight of one of the largest horses she'd ever encountered that wasn't of draft decent. But she wasn't quite in the mood for a towering gargantuan.

The echo'd 'bang' of hoof to pipe caught her attention and she slowly spun around to find its source. Her gaze fell on the dark equine who was frantically trying to tear up the info sheet hung from his pen. Tilting her head in curiosity, she scanned the area around him and found no one else taking notice of him, so she decided to investigate. She had to chuckle at the flourished newspaper, knowing all too well the damage a mouthy horse can cause. Long, chink-clad legs brought her from the narrow alley she was stationed at prior to the dark animal's pen. She read what was left to be read, scribbled hurriedly though still legible. 'Semi-feral.' Cringing, she sighed and read on. 'Older, and a stud. No walk in the park.' Her thoughts ran slowly as she chewed on the idea to inquire about him and once she was done reading, drifiting her attention the stud himself.

Observing quietly, she made mental notes as he paced to and fro, watching for any glitched step. Finding none, she then watched his face, noting the wall-eyed expression and typical insecurity often associated with previously feral and green broke animals. Double whammy, to say the least. Thankfully, Domeena was the homeopathic type, and she had a laundry list of remedies that would aid in reducing his anxiety should she decide to bring him home. Finally speaking up, she stepped to the gentleman before saying anything. "I apologize for interrupting your reading, but would you tell me a bit about him?"

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The man looked up as he rustled his newspaper and put it down. He leaned back and stretched before he spoke. "Not much I know about 'im," he drawled. "Caught a few years back, green broke but can still act pretty wild. Need to have some experience on your hands if yer gonna take 'im in." He turned slightly to glance at the dark stallion before shrugging to himself as he squinted up to her.

"Other than that, not much to say. He doesn't have many miles on him; last I heard he's been in the pasture for the last few weeks. No one has the time to work 'im. But last I heard he was a quick learner and could be a good saddle horse if ya put the time in." The man didn't seem to mention how Ravage had gotten his name. The stallion had a tendency to destroy things, whether it was a saddle someone had foolishly left in his reach or several fences. He did want to sell him after all but had to make sure any potential sellers were aware that they weren't buying a safe horse for their kid to ride. It wasn't his horse; he was only there from the ranch the stallion came with since he was the one that had taken the auction horses there.

Ravage stood at the back of the small pen, his ears occasionally swiveling forwards as the man spoke. He stood motionless as he listened before swinging his head around as a horse in the barn whinnied. He whinnied shrilly in reply and walked up to the fence with a frustrated toss of his head, attempting to see where the other horse was.

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The blonde haired woman listened quietly, her gaze focused solely on the dark horse called 'Ravage.' Wherever the name came from, it wouldn't make it home to her barn. She was a firm believer that your subconscious connotations with a word bled through in your tone. Names like 'Diablo,' 'Rowdy,' 'Ravage,' they were basically setting the animal up for failure. With a horse like the one before her, he needed all the extra positive mojo he could find. And that was the beauty of trading ownership, the name was never written in stone. Even with registered ponies, if you had the patience to handle paperwork and redtape, that could be ammended also.

Hooking her thumbs into her pockets, she sighed slightly and shifted her weight onto one leg much like a resting horse cocking a limb for a spell. She was well aware of the task at hand, and while she was hoping for a prospect of sounder mind and possibly farther along in training, it was merely to cut her some slack from the fact she was training full-time as it was outside of him. Nothing saying she couldn't do that all day and come home to keep going, she'd done it before and it wasn't unbearable. But for once she had been hoping for a small break. But there was something about the challenge, something about the ability to start from the ground up, and something about that particular stud that over-rode any idea she previously had.

So, rubbing the back of her neck with a dirty palm, she chewed on her cheek a moment. "Well, I'd like to see him move if at all possible." Her main concern was making sure he moved properly. The last thing she needed was to bring home an animal who wanted to tear her place apart and come to find out he'd be useless as a working animal. She had hopes that he would step out properly and no false step would be taken, but having been burned more times than she cared to count, it was best to err on the side of caution at this point. If he was to be a project, which he clearly was, she wanted to be sure there was the physical ability to succeed regardless. Still, she saw something in him that she couldn't ignore. Even if he moved poorly, she could always geld him and see how he made for companionship for another horse. Or if it was a mild infraction, he could make a light gig-horse on good days. There was always another way to make things work.

[sunstorm]

The man looked slightly irritated but nodded. He stood up and grabbed the rope halter hanging outside the pen. "I'll take 'im out and lead 'im around for ya," he said, noticing how little room there was in the paddock to see the horse move. He slipped into the pen and walked over to the stallion who attempted to shy away from him. The man was too quick though and grabbed onto his neck while flinging the lead rope around him so he couldn't get away. He slid the rope halter on and made sure it was tied securely before leading the stallion out. The rope halter usually worked well but he knew the auction yard was full of distractions and he wasn't sure if it would be enough to keep Ravage under control.

Ravage walked with his head high, his eyes wide as he left the small pen. The man led him along the line away from the young woman before turning him around once they came near to one of the barns and led him back. Ravage shook his head, walking uncertainly and jumping at any sudden noises he made. He suddenly came to a stop, looking as if he was ready to shy away at any moment. His nostrils flared and he snorted as he stared at a half ripped paper on the ground a few feet away. With another snort of suspicion and ignoring the gentle tugs on the rope as the man tried to get him to walk forward, the stallion took one tentative step forward and reached down. He sniffed the paper curiously, as if seeing it for the first time before picking it up in his teeth.

"C'mon, git movin," the man muttered to Ravage, tugging on the rope more firmly. Ravage tossed his head up, sending the paper that had previously had his sale information on it, flying back towards the ground. He swished his tail before trotting forwards and almost passing his handler, although the man firmly pulled back and forced him to stop. He turned to the woman. "Well, there you have it." Ravage stood tensely, his head held high as he watched people walk by and heard horses whinnying out of his sight.

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While it wasn't exactly what Domi had hoped for, the movement displayed was just enough to give her a a generalized idea of how he carried himself. He seemed sound enough. If nothing else, if anything unsound surfaced she could always put him in front of a cart if he couldn't bear weight. And if that failed, he'd still make a pretty pasture ornament. Five hundred dollars was nothing to sneeze at, clearly nothing more than fifty cents per pound by weight pricing, so it certainly wasn't a horrible price to pay for one who may not, in a sense, earn his keep in the end. Sighing, as it was clear she had gotten as much out of the seller as possible, she recalled the price scribbled on the tattered sheet and thumbed through the pocketed bills. Fishing out five slips with Franklin's resemblance plastered on the center, she thrust them out towards him with a less than pleased expression. "Sold." Clearly she was dealing with an impatient individual, and one who was less than accomodating by any means. Having made up her mind, she was done wasting time for all three of them. "If you'll wait a moment, I'll get my trailer."

Domi didn't wait for a response, once the bills were taken she turned on toe and trudged quickly around the corner to where she had parked her setup. She quickly climbed into the cab of her farm truck, turned the engine over and listened as the diesel roared to life. Throwing it in gear, the vehicle lurched forward and she rounded the turn she previously jogged from. A few yards from where she left the pair, she halted the truck and trailer and hopped out while leaving the rig running. Approaching them again, she looked back to the stud as she spoke. "Will he load?" If not, the alternative was backing the trailer to a pen and running him in, which she personally didn't want to resort to if it wasn't necessary.

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The man looked pleased as she handed him the bills. He tucked them in his jean pocket and held onto the lead while she disappeared to get her trailer. Ravage stood motionless with his head up as he listened for the other horses. The man watched as the young woman drove up with her truck and trailer, parking it not too far away before asking if he loaded.

"He will," the man grunted. "I'll get 'im in." The man led Ravage forward as he opened up the back of the trailer. The handler was the one who got Ravage in the trailer to take him to the auction in the first place so he was confident he could get him in this one. He led Ravage forward, giving him a few moments to lower his head and sniff the trailer. As the man walked forward to lead him in Ravage suddenly swung his head back, his eyes wide as he attempted to back up. The man led him away from the trailer to circle him before straightening him out to load once more. He led Ravage right up to the trailer and when he felt the stallion hesitate he began tugging on the lead rope. Whenever Ravage moved forwards he quit tugging and finally Ravage scrambled up into the trailer.

The man exited the trailer and began closing up the back before Ravage could have any second chances. He could hear the stallion hitting the sides of the trailer with his hooves, either pawing or kicking at it he couldn't tell. "Well, he's all yours." The man said to her. He usually didn't offer to load the horses up himself but he didn't want her to have troubles with Ravage and then change her mind or something.

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Surprised that the seller would take on the responsibility to load the stud, Domi folded her arms over her chest and stood back in silence. She was mildly concerned the stud would put up a fuss considering it was quite obvious he was green-broke. However she was also interested in seeing how this guy would handle the situation. She wasn't sure as to whether this was the stud's trainer or just a passerby making the sale, but either way it would be indicative of the general handling he received period. Might explain why he's 7-years-old and just green broke. Who knew? He didn't give much info on him anyway, and she had a bad habit of reading into things. She soon realized she was lost in her own train of thought and when she snapped back to reality, it was just in time to see the dark boy climb right in.

Smiling, Domi unfolded her arms and met the seller at the rear of her trailer. Offering her hand to him in general good-etiquette, she nodded to him appreciatively. "Thanks for getting him in. Best to you." Leaving the seller now, she stepped up onto the wheel well and peered in through one of the windows to check on her new charge. Aside from throwing the typical hissy fit, he seemed otherwise fine. So, she hopped off and made it around to the diesel, climbing in and shutting the door behind her. Adjusting her mirrors, she set the rig in motion and pointed them for home.


[ ooc - We can continue at Hollow Rock Ranch. Do you have any opposition to possibly altering his name? ]

[sunstorm]

ooc: Er, I'd actually rather not change his name, if that's okay with you :/

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[ ooc - That's fine, do you mind if she calls him by a nickname, like Rav or something similar? ]

[sunstorm]

ooc: No, that's fine =]

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[ ooc - Great, muchas gracias. I'll post first at Hollow Rock since he's pretty much stuck in the box. ]