Of Man and Beast

A four beat-gait rumbled underneath the roan stallion as he raced around the square, trying to find an exit but failing to do so. Auditors to the show of man and beast waved him away if he got to close, causing the horse to perform some fancy swerving. ‘I want out!’ He bugled pitifully, still going around and around. Why must this happen always? He briefly thought back to what had happened.

There had been some commotion that morning, and a groom coming in to brush him off. But without his breakfast! There had been a period of whiny neighs but once the soft hemp rope had been slipped over his head and into his mouth, the horse instantly quieted. He was then led out to the square, prancing and shying away from any little thing that looked unfamiliar. Then he was jerked to a halt and looked on to the two men standing in front of him. One was recognizable, being the evil bastard who had him dragged off from his lush homeland, across a battling ocean, and into this dry place. But the other, the one who stood slightly stooped forward and had chains circling it’s hands and feet was not so. It was smaller than the Welsh General and less red, like himself, but more browned like his friend who called to him in the corrals. He had pricked up his ears when the smaller human spoke, watching intently as the almost musical sounds washed over him. This was interesting....All others who spoke to him had a rough, forced tone and had the same aura around their way of working with his fellow equines. But this one, he seemed rather loony. Like a pony he once knew that had eaten too many sweet oats when he had snuck into the shed containing grain. The sweet memory caused the stallion to blank out for a moment, therefore not noticing the two humans move form in front of him and then a sudden weight placed on his back. When a pair of legs squeezed his side, he snapped to attention. ‘What?’ Responding automatically he moved forward, away from the pressure and then went even faster as it did not give release. He had tried to crane his neck around to see whom was riding him but smack to his rump refrained him from doing so. He leapt into a canter, getting dizzier by sec second as all they did was tight circles. Finally when he felt he could go no longer, he had stopped and panted trying to catch his breath. The weight was relieved and a new one was felt, though very much lighter and gentler in it’s seat. He rolled his eyes backwards, though not being able to distinguish the passenger aboard his fear rose to greater heights. He never liked being ridden, always someway or another he wound up bruised and hurting, locked up in his small stall confines for many a day. But this time he felt a sense of relief as the usual methods were not inflicted. Actually, he got the feeling that this person astride him didn’t /know/ how to ride. A spark re-entered the stallion’s eyes as he went forward into a trot, feeling high-spirited and picking up his legs unusually high. He went along, raising up his back and rounding out, lowering his head by degrees and sinking into the light contact at his mouth. Today was a goay! ay! Maybe his life was done being stuck in a dark hole and decided to climb out to better things. But then as he circled once more, his lifted his gaze from the building horizons and met the furious glare of the General.

‘Eek!’

He had froze and then reared up, tearing at the sky with his hooves. Landing stiff-legged on the earth he bucked, feeling the weight te fre from his back. Whistling in agony he started to run, run and run and run, not wanting to ever stop. And that was the end of his morning.

‘I didn’t mean to I swear it!’ He worried and fretted about what the General would do, he had known that what he was doing was wrong after one look in those cold blue eyes. He shouldn’t of let go, had some fun, do what he wanted to do and what felt good. Soon he found his circling interrupted as a small group had formed around the fallen rider and snarls were heard frrm there. ‘Musn’t go there, never....musn’t...’ He then slowed to a trot and paced back and forth, throwing up his head when any person came near, reaching for the reins. Finally one boy caught them and jerked harshly, throwing the anxious stallion into a sliding halt. Sweat ran down his shoulders, back and haunches, dripping with a soft rhythm into the ground. He felt his whole soaked crimson hide tremble in apprehension, eyes ed ted to the group now lifting up the smaller man up onto his feet. The stallion’s eyes widened and looked on in simple shock.

‘So....ts w-s w-who was riding....me...?’ with a sigh, his ears flopped out sideways, letting his neck droop until his muzzle almost touched the earth. If he had known, then maybe the sudden glare from the General wouldn’t of spooked him as much. But how could he know? He felt a hand underneath his jaws lift up his head, and then pull forward as the boy groom tried to get him back to the stable quarters. He dragged his feet across the dirt and shuf slo slowly along, pausing for a moment to risk a look at the smaller human one last time. His keen eyesight was blinded from seeing directly in front of him, so he turned his head back to face forward and rolled his chocolate brown eye back to look. He saw a pale human hand slink all over the human’s body and what he first thought of was that the General was searching him for injuries or checking his fitness, like the Welshman often did to him. But one look at the human’s face told him otherwise. The dark brows were ktogetogether across it’s forehead, hands clenched into tight balls as he noticed the slight tremor that ran up its body. A kick just behind his girth sent him flying into reality, launched from his daydream of watching the smaller man.

‘Eek!’

He skittered forward and returned into the darkness that hung like an ominous cloud around the stable yard.