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Untamed CH. 16 by =PaintedJewel:iconPaintedJewel:

Categories Literature > Prose > Fiction > General Fiction


So, as we all soon learn, I began to forget my past, my herd, my life before the chaos. When the humans would walk by, I no longer flinched with fear, or quivered with rage. I acted as all of the horses of the stables did—no different. Amirah was nothing but a blur in my memories, a blur that caused me to ache with each glance. Though, the humans had begun to bring other mares into the stables, and I failed to hesitate in watching them walk down the cobblestone aisle. With each passing day I became more and more domesticated, and on the outside, I was careless and stoic. Whenever nightfall arrived, though, I felt my very soul fly back to the lands of my home, and if I dreamed long enough, Amirah…



   Once again, it was dark. Once again, it was cold. Once again life had no reason. Once again, all was bleak, drab and plain.
   Soreso stood in the same stall that the men had unwillingly forced him into almost two years ago. His back ached, and his mouth was still bleeding from the harsh ride he had been given earlier in the day.
   It had been the stablemaster who had ridden him. Though that wasn’t the first time Soreso had felt the burden of a rider upon his back. At first, he had resented it like the winter, of course. He fought, he twisted, he bucked. Nothing would have ridden himself of the human, for he had been weak. Dehydrated and thin, he had looked and felt no better than the lowly carthorses that were banned from the stable walls.
   Even now, Soreso seemed to be no more than a farmer’s plow-puller, or the kind of horse that walked in circles around the water-well, churning an ounce up at a time.
   His neck sagged, and his crest was nothing but a floppy sliver of flesh, toppling over at the right. His face was hollow, and his eyes darker than before. Soreso’s barrel was demolished by the sight of his ribs, jutting free—their cry of hunger. His pelvic structure was easily seen, even for the most casual passer-by. He was scarred now, deeply. His right shoulder held an entire history of scars, from whippings from ridings, to the pulling of the water-well crank. How did he even muster the coldness to bear such treatments? he sometimes wondered, and his question was to forever be unanswered.
   Standing alone, at this quiet moment, he breathed in the dusty smells of the dry dirt beneath his hooves, the manure in the garbage pile, just outside a’ways, and finally he smelt the own horrendous odor of himself. Was it that terrible stench, one of sick, dried skin, and pure filth that plagued him these cold days? Well, indeed it was. Grimacing, Soreso looked down upon his battered bodice.
   Mud was caked unfashionable around his legs, and clinging desperately to his underbelly. His tail was a horrible broom of cobburs, to say the very least. Once flowing in its silver  waves, it was now yellowish-brown, and unbearably stringy. Ashamed of his appearance, even though it was no different from the others’, Soreso dipped his head lower, having a honorable reason for his shame.

   Trudging through the thick, ice-coated grass, Amirah found a new reason to hate winter, winter alone. Surely, there had never been an oncoming winter that was so utterly cold? But with that mere thought in consideration, she had never experienced a winter alone…and perhaps that bit more than the cold. Perhaps the thought of being alone, for such a long time, and knowing—that not until spring, at least—that she would ever see sign of another equid as herself. Perhaps, maybe, the entire year would pass into another winter before she even saw another. Sighing helplessly, Amirah looked to the cloud-infested, starless, sky. There was nothing about it that reminded her of home…not in the slightest.
    Resolving to find the merest bit of shelter before the first snow—because she had already missed the first frost—Amirah slightly bowed her proud head, blinking past her foggy eyes, and through the dreary night.

   “So’s we’re here again, huh Silver?” the small burro asked rhetorically, “’Nother day in the midst o’ paradise, I suppose.”
    Soreso solemnly raised his head, his mouth sore for no apparent reason. “Hell, I’d call it.” He replied enthusiastically, smirking at the baneful thought.
     Jack only shuffled at his words, nosing at his straw hay below his tiny feet. He had begun to slowly draw away from Soreso, because the Spanish stallion’s personality was officially plagued with sarcasm, bane and the only laugh he ever gave was one of regret. Giving a breathy sigh, Jack only focused on the hay beneath his hooves.
     Soon, the sound of bootsoles roused the dosing livestock in the small stable. The click of Soreso’s stall door instantly caused his body to spark, and he turned his head to see who had…dared…to enter.
   Not-at-all surprisingly, it was the stablemaster, and in his thick hands rested the saddle, bridle, and on his heels, the spurs jingled. Soreso let his eyes close, deeply wanting to shut out the world, though, on the outside of his face there was an expression of challenge.
   Almost-silently, the stablemaster placed the saddle on Soreso’s back, and the bit was soon cold on his tongue. He dared not to roll his tongue against the metal bar, for the last time he had dared such a thing resulted in pain. The vicious pain of spurs and humans’ cruelty always ended in blood and more pieces torn from his already-battered spirit.
    “Aha! Thee does not fight to-day, eh?” the stablemaster snorted, huffing out his chest proudly.
     Soreso felt his stomach churn in dread and hunger both.
     Soon, with a saddle, bridle and stablemaster on his back, Soreso stepped out into the sunlight, eyes stinging with the glowing rays that, long ago, would have sent him into a loving-headed frenzy. He dared to let his skin ripple in a tremble, as the warm sun penetrated his cold skin.
     Yes, the snow was thick underhoof, as was the ice overhead, but the sun…the sun, well, was warm nevertheless. The sun would always supply the smallest amount of warmth, even in the most drab of days. Soreso cautiously raised his head, feeling the reins flap on his neck as he did so. Evidently, the stablemaster hadn’t paid any mind to Soreso’s sightseeing, because he only barked orders to a pheasant, his darkly-bearded face scowling. “Pick up the pace, ye dog!” he growled, shaking his fist.
     Soreso cringed, lowering his head, knowing that there was no way that he, the Andalusian stallion, could look at all proud in this wretched condition. Never before had winter taken such a toll upon his body.
     “Forward, ye.” The stablemaster commanded, spurring Soreso. The battered stallion could feel how proudly the master was sitting upon his back, swaying back and forth with Soreso’s ballet-quality gaits.
    As Soreso trudged on, he watched, actually, for once, opening his own self-pitying eyes, to look upon the lowly humans. Lowly, in the minds of the higher-ranking few; as the stablemaster saw himself. Some were small, foal-like humans, while others were not yet fully grown, although their bodies could fool one. Soreso only knew this because of the hope glimmering in their eyes, green, brown, black and blue. The color of the sky. A color he had known so very well, so very long ago. Now, that lip of blue could hardly be named. He could hardly remember who and what it belonged to, and why it hurt his head so to think of it.
    The jerk of the thick leather reins on his mouth sent Soreso turning right, into the village, and the spurs sent him into the classic Spanish “skip”.  Naturally, his head was raised, and his chin tucked—not in attempt to look proud. Although, the pheasants watched, glancing over in admiration of the skimped stallion, still managing to hold his head high.
     If only they knew.
     Soon reaching their destination, Soreso was huffing, and his neck was slick with sweat. The stablemaster, who Soreso had near-forgotten until he jerked the reins mercilessly for a stop in front of the grandest human-building in the small village. It was made of stone, and was tall. No, ‘twasn’t an old world castle as those his mother had told him of, but it was magnificent, nonetheless. Smoke twisted and curved like a snake-like stormcloud, out of a stock in the housing place.
    Almost immediately a guard of some sort rushed from the grand housing, and the stablemaster dismounted, his chin held high. The guard took Soreso’s reins, but with hardly as much harshness as the stablemaster did.
    Soreso walked to the small guard thankfully, his mouth aching, despite the callouses he had developed.
    “Keep a strong hand on that beast.  A scrawny lad as yeself hasn’t stand a chance against a renegade as this stud,” the stablemaster commanded, patting Soreso’s neck approvingly—but the pats were so hard, they jarred his entire body.
     “Yess’ir.” The guard agreed, nodding the stablemaster off. “Lord Greer Orolv waits for you, sir…”
     “Yes, I’ll be off.” He said, nodding the smallest token of thanks to the guard, and walking into the grand entryway.


    Warmth…
    ‘Twasn’t a word that lone mare could remember; or even think of feeling. She missed Feather with the greatest of heartache, and the most feeling one can ever feel for such a friend. She missed Aspen, Willow, and the foals. She missed the spray of the sea, the granite…
    She missed him.
   Through the midday, minimal, sun, Amirah glanced west. West to the sea, west to the valley, west to the sun, west to the days of her youngest of youth, and the feeling of young love and complete freedom. Carefree and wild, they both were. She would like to think he was still living; but oh, ‘twould be the greatest miracles, if it even qualified to be one.
    “Oh, you,” she breathed, her small body quivering in the cold. Some may think it was crazy to doze into a world of pasts as often as she had begun to, over her time of solitude, but Amirah quite liked it. Again, another memory came flooding in her face in the same way the warm spring sun and the sea’s riptides caress the body.
  “So, all because you’re a colt, you’re faster, ye think?” the Arabic filly asked, flicking her grey tail about.
        “No, only faster and stronger. Not just faster!” her best friend, a little silvery colt replied, laughing. He reached out to nip at her, and she dodged it, only to land a playful kick on his rump.
       “Oh, Soreso! Poor boy!” she laughed, taking off at a full-blown gallop, her nostrils quivering in sheer bliss.
       Being the competitive spirit he was, Soreso followed, kicking at the sky. His mane and tail were beginning to grow-out, and they danced in the sea breezes like spring petals that flutter off of the crate mertal trees. Soft and weightless.
       He soon caught Amirah, and they galloped, side-by-side, teeth showing in happiness as the wind combed their coats free of any debris, or debris-like feelings that staying with the herd could leave dragging on one’s spirit.  They laughed, kicking and twisting at the sky, Amirah’s pale eyes matching the color of the sky and sea—almost exactly. Soreso’s amber eyes were the same color as always, out of place and hinted with gold sparks.
      Amirah then slowed, gradually, and Soreso followed her example, immediately veering past her and trotting into the sea, breathing in it’s smells. Salt, kelp, and a smell of purity, the sea was the only thing Soreso really needed to survive. Not his sire, not his dam, not authority, rules, hate, fighting and confusion. Just the sea, and a companion like Amirah. That was all he really needed.
     Amirah, tossing her thin head, then splashed in beside him. “That was fun! Let’s do it again sometime, don’t you think?”
     “Yes,”
     “The sun’s beginning to dip…don’t you think…”
     “We should go back?” he guessed, looking to the red-hued sky, and then down to the water. “We should, I suppose. Unless we wish to hear Father’s wrath,”
     “Yes,” Amirah whispered desolately, her eyes meeting Soreso’s empathetically. “Let’s go, then.”

   
     “You’re no horse that belongs in a dirty place like this,”
Soreso listened, not really bothering to comprehend. After all, humans made no sense, even with the greatest amount of comprehension.
     “…quite a lovely animal, not of the New World, that’s indefinite. But, you’ll be going back to the Old World soon ‘nough! You and e’ery other beast here! And then some. Stablemaster’s ordered for all other horses, lookin’ like you, to be rounded up and shipped off on the Avareiltta.”
    Soreso kept walking, following the human obediently, but he was stunned. Old World? Shipped? Other horses? Ordered? Round up? Like him? He hardly knew what to understand, or what to do, but the sea…
    She’d be gone from him. The shore—he’d never get to go back. Never to smell those smells, never to taste those tastes. It was over, everything he’d fought for was over. He was nothing more than a worker, a mere pet among humans.
     As his hooves clicked on the rocky floor of the stable that the ‘lad’ led him into, and then into a stall, where the small stablelad tied him to a post and removed his saddle and blankets. “Sore?” he asked, petting Soreso’s back gently before leaving the stall.
     A disgruntled snort in the stall to the left of him made Soreso turn his head and look in the direction. It was a deep bay stallion, thick and hardy, his eyes firey. There was a scar on the stallion’s forehead, and something about it was familiar.
     Soreso snorted in response, all to well aware of the bars separating them.
     The stallion didn’t react, and before Soreso could say anything, the stableboy was back with a bucket and a cloth. The bucket was filled with steaming water, and the cloth had been drenched in that water.
     “Easy, easy beauty. I’ll just clean you off with this here, and patch your sores with some fat. You’ll be alright now,” he then lifted the cloth, and starting at Soreso’s forehead, scrubbed away dirt that had sat for years, with the hot water. It felt good, and was kind to his muscles. After that, the stableboy dried his coat before Soreso could catch cold, and with animal fat mixed with crushed rosemary, he covered any cuts or open sores that Soreso may have.
     “Poor horse, there,” he rambled, “So many scars, so many bruises—and such a gentle animal. Ye didn’t deserve the beatings, horse. But none of us did, did we? The one’s who deserve it are the ones who give it.”
©2009-2010 =PaintedJewel
:iconpaintedjewel:

Author's Comments

Finally, right? :XD:

This is dedicated to my good buddy, =blue-apples, who's life is really sucking right now. And, last time I checked, she was Untamed's biggest fan--so I had to get this out for her. <3 Hope it suffices!

Comments


love 0 0 joy 0 0 wow 0 0 mad 0 0 sad 0 0 fear 0 0 neutral 0 0
:iconblue-apples:
=blue-apples Feb 18, 2009, 5:19:07 PM
YESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYES! Thank you soooo muchos, nom! <3
I was actually wondering if you were going to continue this the other day. :giggle:

The one’s who deserve it are the ones who give it, indeed. =\

--
idareyoutorun
avatar by ~raigurl
:iconpaintedjewel:
=PaintedJewel Feb 18, 2009, 6:15:21 PM
Cereal?! You WERE! Dang, I'm good then. XD I'mma go write the next chap now! I feel all obliged and such. :salute: And you is so welcome, matteh! <333

Yes, so very true. Even outside of Soresoland.

--
Sleepwalk in the summer rain.
:iconblue-apples:
=blue-apples Feb 19, 2009, 5:27:32 AM
yuh, no lie. :P i has ESP.
yaaaaaaaay! i wants to read moar. soreso needs to escape, poor secksie man.

:iconninjaglompplz:

--
idareyoutorun
avatar by ~raigurl
:iconallona13:
~Allona13 Feb 19, 2009, 7:53:59 AM
:glomp: WONDYFUL!!!!!
I have missed Soreso very much. And you haf brought him back to meh.^^

--
Carly N' Legacy :heart:

Nothing runs like my Arab....
:iconalicialovesherpony:
~alicialovesherpony Feb 19, 2009, 4:02:28 PM
yay!!
another chapter!!
poor ole' soreso D=
but i assume he'll be escaping soon.

--
I have yet to encounter a problem that the touch of a muzzle to my palm has not fixed.
:iconpaintedjewel:
=PaintedJewel Feb 20, 2009, 5:59:21 PM
I know you has ESP. 'Cause you're cool like zat. ;P
Good, becuz moar is to cum!

mmm...so secksie that he's lickable? :flirty:

--
Sleepwalk in the summer rain.
:iconblue-apples:
=blue-apples Feb 21, 2009, 4:27:35 PM
hellz yuh! i'd lick that like, right nao if i could. :lick:

--
idareyoutorun
avatar by ~raigurl
:iconpaintedjewel:
=PaintedJewel Feb 21, 2009, 10:29:07 PM
mmm, dayum! extreme fangirlizm, we has har. :XD: just don't die your hair white, and start curling et. O_O

--
Sleepwalk in the summer rain.
:iconpaintedjewel:
=PaintedJewel Mar 28, 2009, 3:24:56 PM
I HAD to bring himz back! After all, he is amazin'. :P You two iz made for each others.

--
Sleepwalk in the summer rain.
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