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Post by harley on Jul 9, 2009 16:53:59 GMT -5
 Small painted mare was unloaded quickly from a large stock trailer. Dust covered her hide, her white markings more brown than anything else. She was nearly trotted into a cramped pipepen, next to other horses, larger and cleaner than she. Her ragged halter was taken off her face and thrown on the ground outside of the stall, a few harsh words coming out of her former owner's mouth." Useless mule." The mare stood quietly, away from the fence, not even facing it. Her hind right foot was resting, while the auction worker Duct-Taped a crisp, white piece of paper telling interested buyers about her lineage, training and manners. " Double registered APHA x AQHA filly, four years old. very good ground manners, green broke, 14 hands, may grow to about 15 hands. Red dun overo, would make a nice pleasure or all-around western horse. Already shows speed and good conformation. Registered Name is Starburst Cherokee, previous barn name was Chero, but can be changed." |
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Post by jagger on Jul 12, 2009 18:58:13 GMT -5
Mirrah eyed the mare with a quiet sense of self; fingers idling twitching over her fingernails - which were trimmed low and neat - in a nervous tick. Tucking her hat low over her eyes, she concentrated on the filly's feet and legs, watching her graceful movement and overall conformation. Her heart nagged at her as she considered going home without her, sitting back on her heels before sliding a long, low whistle between her well aligned, delicate white teeth. Flicking her long hair behind both ears and over one shoulder; she flagged down an auction worker.
'Scuse me. I wanna buy this mare. She pointed deliberately directly to the red dun, tapping the sheet on the front. What's the price? She's perfect. She bounced up and down impatiently, glancing past the worker and back into the mare with an almost child-like glee.
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Post by harley on Jul 12, 2009 20:19:12 GMT -5
A small Latin man came up to the woman waiting by a mare that had just been dropped off, one that he had thought was perfect for himself, but he knew he couldn't afford a cabello-a horse- until he had his debt payed off fully, that was why he was working three jobs."No habla engles." He did speak english, but didn't want to talk about the mare he started walking away, but then caught himself and walked back, heavy accent drifted through the air."Well, her starting bid is supposed to be five-hundred, but to take her now, it'll be seven-hundred. And I hate to ask this, but do you have a trailer and truck capable for a horse?" Though the man had a thick accent, he had gone to many classes to learn english as a young boy, and spoke it very well.
Meanwhile, the mare noticed someone by the fence, looking at her with the fox-like eyes only a human could have. She nickered lowly, almost silently as she walked up to the brunette, nudging her with a pink nose. Her first owner had been a brunette woman about her height, and almost her exact build, and the woman had loved the filly immensly, but when her mother fell ill, she and her husband had to sell all their stock and property and move down to Southern Texas. She was three when this happened, and had gotten all her training from the woman. With her current owners (until someone would buy her), she sat in a pasture and collected dust, all the while being hit and chased around if she didn't run up to the gate when the man with the hat came to get her for her daily 'working', which involved running around a roundpen for two to three hours.
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Post by jagger on Jul 12, 2009 20:49:48 GMT -5
Mirrah nodded; cooing cheerfully at the little mare as she approached. Thrusting hands through the bars to rub her face gently. Seven it is then. Not a problem. For just such an instance; she'd brought a thousand in cash - leaving herself room to negotiate but not enough to be stupid. Time was money, and at the moment, both were limited. Scratching the mocha face fondly, she ran thin fingers over her wide forehead and distinct cheeks, glancing over her shoulder. I've got a trailer around back. Not big, but it'll do. She pointed to the single horse step-up and the truck she had rented specifically for auction hopping, withdrawing her hands from the mare's corral to pull a wad of cash out of her pocket, counting out seven bills immediately.
Does she have any tack, or should I go get a halter for her? She queried, glancing down at the destroyed halter tossed by the side of the pen - hoping to heavens it wasn't Cherokee's. Don't worry mama, you're goin' home soon. Must suck here, huh? She spoke to the mare conversationally, nudging her gently with her elbow like a lifelong chum.
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Post by harley on Jul 12, 2009 22:02:42 GMT -5
The auction worker nodded, pointing to the tattered halter that was thrown on the ground."Used to be the person who used to own her's brood mare's. The mare tore that halter up. This little mare's real sweet, very well trained. You may wanna get a new one for the trailer ride though, that one's nylon." He picked up the black halter, the right cheek band hanging on by a fraction of a thread and handed it to the girl, a short, nylon leadrope was prone to giving it's users a bad case of rope burn, if the horse decided to pull away for any reason.
The mare enjoyed the attention, sticking her nose through the pipe pen's slats and lipping the girl's shirt, starved for more of the face-rubbing.
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Post by jagger on Jul 12, 2009 23:30:43 GMT -5
Mirrah picked up the halter and stared at it, laughing a little as she grasped one side and then the other, tugging gently. The nylon thread gave way with a little snap and she scoffed, shrugging her shoulders. Eh.. I've got one in the trailer. It's all good. Thank you. She rubbed the mare's forehead reassuringly. Be riiiight back girly.
Picking up a jog, she jogged back to her trailer in the back lot, popping the tack hatch on her trailer and fishing out a cotton halter and tie lead, relatching the hatch and skipping back. Reapproaching the auction pen, she unclipped the door to Cherokee's pen and stepped inside, relatching it behind her. C'mere pretty mama, let's get you loaded. She stepped a few feet in and waited, one hand coming out to beckon the little dun closer. Best let a new horse come to you - don't want to rush her.. and it looks as though she'd seen better days.
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Post by harley on Jul 12, 2009 23:52:56 GMT -5
The little dun snorted as the human left, shaking her head and going back to resting her hind foot, this time facing the gate, ears pricked and waiting for her return, if she ever did. She nickered lowly when she did, walking up to her immediatly and touching her soft, but dirty, nose to the girl's shoulder. OOC://reeeeaaaally short, sorry. tired and museless  \\ |
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Post by jagger on Jul 13, 2009 1:16:30 GMT -5
[[ooc - no worries. I'm going to make this one fairly concentrated so we can move on and get to the barns in the next couple posts]]
Approaching the mare confidently, she slid the new halter up over her nose and buckled it behind her ears, checking the tie on the lead line and turning to swing the gate open wide enough for both herself and Cherokee to fit through. Tugging gently, she led the pretty little mare out, patting her neck fondly and making her way to the trailer.
Swinging open the back doors - slowly, carefully; to avoid spooking her - she unclipped the butt strap and stepped up in the trailer, clicking lightly. C'mon Cherokee, step! She asked, waiting for the mare to comply.
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Post by harley on Jul 13, 2009 14:21:47 GMT -5
The young mare walked beside the girl, who was no her legal owner. She enjoyed the looks from people walking by, kicking themselves for not buying the now alert filly, walking proudly next to the woman, moving her head from side to side, taking in her surrondings. She needed no pleading when it came to loading into the trailer, she learned early on that trailer meant food, so as soon as the door was open, she walked-wait no, more like trotted- right into the trailer, sticking her head into the hanging feed bag and turning her head back around to the girl, stomping her right front foot in impatience.
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Post by jagger on Jul 13, 2009 14:31:43 GMT -5
Chuckling lightly, she tossed the leadrope up over the mare's neck as she passed and fastened the butt strap, swinging the door shut and latching it behind the little dun before heading up to the front of the trailer and opening the front trap door to step in toward her head. Retrieving the lead rope, she tied a quick-knot to the loop at the front, scratching the mare's ears and fluffing the hay in the feedbag.
Okie dokie Kee, you sit tight mama. We'll be home in a jiffy. She whispered to the mare, stepping out of the hatch and closing it behind her, sliding open the vent windows and moving to the front to pop into the cab of the truck. In seconds, the engine roared to life and she carefully pulled out of the back lot, trying to jostle the mare as little as possible as they bounced down the driveway and out onto the roadway. Destination: barns.
[ next post will be in the barns ]
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