Items

Forums
 
Prairie Sky
 By Hypnotic Equus   •   3rd Nov 2010   •   2,655 views   •   7 comments
“Betcha can’t catch me, Sky!” Thunder whinnied as he galloped past. The larger colt turned around and rushed past again. “Humph. Fillies aren’t any fun. I’ll play with Rusty. At least he can run two steps without tripping on his face!”

Sky shook her head irritably. The tall, black colt always was tromping around like he was lead stallion, not Eagle. And to go as far as to tease her for tripping a few times when she had been a little unsteady on her stilt-like legs was over the top. She snorted angrily at the thought of Thunder’s comment that the old, cranky pony with a coat that looked more brown than red was more fun than she was. Sky couldn’t remember the last time Rusty had moved faster than a lazy plod.

Just then Rosie, a petite, strawberry roan filly who was Sky’s best friend, trotted up and nickered, “I know what would take your mind off mean old thunder. Let’s go for a run!”

And so they did, over the foothills that ringed their side of the tiny valley. Then down into the middle of the band, than up a tiny ridge, through the pines, until they came to settle on a meadow overlooking their family band.
After a few moments, Sky heard her mother whinnying, “Sky, come down here. It’s nearly sunset. You can play tomorrow.”

Her mothers call was backed up by a squeal from Eagle, the muscular buckskin herd leader. “I’m in no mood to rescue foals tonight. Get down here, now!”
Sky sighed. Eagle was always grumpy in the springtime. She could tell his nap had been interrupted by a newborn foal again, or maybe Thunder had roughhoused a little too much. Or, it was possible he had been forced to drive off another three-year-old colt who had tried to revolt against him. She nickered to Rosie to tell her that they were supposed to go back. As they trotted into the band, Sky’s mother whickered to her “Get a last drink, and then lie down, sweetie. We move tomorrow.” Sky gave a little buck of joy. A new place! What fun she and Rosie would have.

As she settled down to sleep, she heard an old mare nickering to her eldest daughter, “I scented strange stallions on the breeze today. Eagle is old. I’m afraid a younger stallion might take over.”

Sky shuddered at the thought. She may not be fond of Eagle, but she liked the way he led the band. A younger stallion might try to change their routine. Their lead mare, Dawn, might try to stop him, but there wasn’t much a mare could do against a stallion. As Sky slept that night, she dreamed of dark colts with red eyes rearing up and killing her mother, Rosie, and all of her friends. She could swear she heard their squeals and whinnies. Sky woke up in a heavy sweat like she had just run a hundred miles.

It was just before dawn, and the band was stirring. Eagle marched around, nipping at hind ends so he could get them moving on an early start. Sky’s mother, Bird, nickered sleepily, “Stay out of Eagles way this morning. Thunder and his gang of colts ran away to hide in the foothills and play around midnight. Eagle had to chase them back into the band.” So that explained the squeals Sky had heard in her sleep. She shook her head. Thunder had done it again. Now Eagle would be irritable the entire day, more than he usually was. Sky couldn’t see the point of colts and stallions. They just fought and stirred up trouble. She didn’t dare mention a bit of this to Bird. That kind of thinking would get her in trouble, and she didn’t want both her parents mad at her.
After getting a dink of milk, she trotted off toward Rosie’s mother Spark. The pretty, young chestnut mare pointed toward her daughter with her muzzle as Sky passed. Rosie was engaged in a grooming session with another filly their age, this one was a leopard appaloosa.

“Why didn’t you come over to play with me?” Sky whinnied.
“You were asleep, and I was bored, and Star was too. You can’t blame me for having another friend.” Rosie snorted.

Sky knew Rosie was right. She shouldn’t blame her for making another friend, but for their entire four months of life Sky had been Rosie’s only friend, and Rosie Sky’s. It made her jealous to see anyone else with her best friend. She stormed away not caring if Rosie or that friend-stealing Star knew what was up. A few minutes later, Eagle let out a bugle. “Band, gather up. Dawn first, older colts last, mares and foals in the middle.”

He nipped at rear ends as the herd sprang into a canter. As Sky launched up the hill, she forgot all about her jealousy of Rosie and Star. She broke away from the herd to gallop a huge circle. She came to a shocked stop when she noticed the group of five bachelor stallions tailing the main band. She recognized 3 of them. One was Snake, a stubborn colt whom Eagle had driven off barely a month ago. Another was Cloud, a palomino stallion covered in white patches who had challenged Eagle for leadership a few months ago, back in the time of much rain. The last one she recognized was a dark bay who she had noticed following the herd. Sky didn’t know that one of these stallions would change the band in a way no horse had ever before.

She sprinted away as fast as she could possibly manage, but Eagle and her mother had noticed her absence. Eagle trotted toward her in a way that signified that he knew he was secure in his position as leader. His ears were pinned, his eyes blazed, and his head snaked back and forth. He didn’t need words for what he was saying. As he approached, Sky hung her head. She knew what was coming. But then Eagle bugled what was all too clear in his body language. “You dare leave the band! You are a filly, and fillies stay with the band. Since you want to run around like Thunder and his defiant gang, you won’t travel with the herd anymore.”

Bird, who had looked for all the world like she was ignoring Sky’s approach, leapt around and let out a squeal. “Eagle, no! She will learn. She is but a foal!” Eagle didn’t care. He snorted at her in the way that a horse would shiver their skin to shake off flies. “Bird, stay where you are. I have no use for this filly.” He rushed toward Sky, teeth bared and eyes gleaming. She slinked away, toward the back of the band, where she knew she would stay until Eagle chose to let her back in.

For the next few days, Sky followed behind the band, behind the older colts and even Eagle. She noticed Rosie spending even more time with Star. Sky wondered if Rosie would ever forgive her, or if Eagle would let her back in. Bird had taken to ignoring her. It seemed the only horses who paid attention to her were Thunder and his gang of rowdy, rude colts. They teased and taunted her every chance they got. She understood that he probably had a right to, but it still hurt. One day he went too far.

It was hot and muggy, and all the grass tasted like dust. Most of the horses were dozing in whatever shade they could find. Thunder looked bored, standing alone, his gang all asleep in the baking sun. He glanced up at Sky, and then pranced over to where Sky was. “Good job getting on Eagle’s bad side. He thinks I’m a saint compared to you. Your mother hasn’t even looked at you recently. She thinks you’re a disgrace, and that you deserve to be an outcast.” He whinnied. “She doesn’t even care about you anymore.” Thunders words cut like a sharp stone. In her grief, Sky backed away and ran, ran as far as she could . She didn’t realize that she would never see this band again, or at least not here.

It was several hours before she broke from her canter. She was thoroughly exhausted and parched. She hadn’t eaten much that morning, and she nearly passed out from the heat. She was scared, and alone. In all her six months she had always been with her mother, or the band. She let out a scared whinny, “Anyone there? Dawn? Star? Bird?” Her whinny sounded like a cough. It wouldn’t carry anywhere right now. She needed to sleep and find water. Sky sniffed the breeze. There was a faint trace of her band, but not enough that she could use it to find her way back. There was scent of goat, a stale scent of a mountain lion’s last meal, and a far off trace of grass and fresh water. She followed the scents general direction. Several minutes later, she came to a shuddering stop. The scent of water and food was coming from over the mountains!

Sky let out a snort of unhappiness. She couldn’t possibly climb over those mountains in search of food and water and expect to live as hungry and parched as she was. But she hadn’t been born a mustang for nothing, so she struggled on over the rough terrain. Several times she scented a smell that she would come to know as Cougar. The water scent became stronger, so she forced onward.

Two days later, when she finally did reach it’s source, she was near death. Every single step felt like a huge effort. Wearily, she lowered her head to the tiny woodland stream. It only took a few sips for her to feel enormously better. But then the weight of her problems fully sank down. She was alone. She was young. She was only a filly. She didn’t know how to find food or water. She didn’t know how to avoid danger. She didn’t know about winter. Her chances of surviving were slim, if not zero. After drinking her fill, she lay down drowsily in the shade of a large rock, towering over 10 ft high. She was to young and too inexperienced to realize the danger she was in, especially with the cougar scent all around the rock. She was asleep before the spot of movement prowled to the high point of the rock and prepared to leap. Sky jerked awake and let out a cry of pain. The claws dug deep into her hindquarters. She rolled, trying to get away from the furry whirlwind that was intent purely on killing her. She struggled away from the maddening pain. She felt like she should run, but she couldn’t get up. So Sky rolled and kicked alternately.

This went on for several minutes, until she caught the great cat squarely across the jaws. It yowled once before rushing off into the nearby woods. Sky shook in fear as she realized what had just happened. She, a young filly, had managed to fight off a full grown cougar. She would remember the cougar scent now, and avoid it. She got up and staggered, the pain searing in her flanks, hindquarters and belly. Long scratches and deeper cuts laced across her coat. Sky fell with a splash into the tiny creek nearby. Her legs churned fitfully, as she fell into a feverish sleep.

Hours later, Sky woke up. Her cuts hurt even worse now, but the water had helped clean them out, and her nap had given her energy. So she struggled up from her spot in the middle of the creek and limped downstream, away from the terrible place where she had been attacked. Her legs ached after only ten minutes of walking, however, so she lowered her head to take a drink and then dozed standing up for a bit. Sky then limped further, but by now it was the heat of the day, and flys began to gather around her wounds. She flicked her tail angrily at them, but at 6 months old, her tail was far too short to reach the worst of her wounds. They tormented her for hours, as she walked slowly over the foothills. The pain from their bites and her wounds was excruciating. She was exhausted from the pain, so much that she flopped down right in the middle of the stream. She let the cool water was her wounds. But there was no relief from the odd, puffy sensation that gripped her scarred skin.

The next morning, the feeling was worse. It was nearly impossible to ignore. Seeking relief, sky rolled in the mud on the bank, allowing it to soak, like a cool blanket, onto her sides. It would also keep the flies from biting her wounds, so she rolled until she felt she had a thick enough casing. After this, she walked stiffly downstream. She only managed to go a few miles, however, before her torn muscles were too sore to move. She lay down in the sun, letting it warm her back while she rested. Soon, the sun began to sink. Sky knew that if she wanted to sleep in a more sheltered place, she would have to start walking. She managed to pull herself up, but she was even more stiff and sore than before. She paused for a quick break, and reached around to scratch her nose with a hind hoof. She was startled at the angry red wounds that crisscrossed her skin. They were puffed up, and there was a bad smell coming from them. Sky didn’t realize how much trouble she was in. She managed to stagger a few hundred yards, but it took so much effort, that she flopped down right in the middle of a 3-sided “box” canyon, not even realizing what danger she was in. If a predator came, she would be at it’s mercy, trapped against one of the 3 sides.

Sky woke up as the gray light of dawn began to show over the mountains. She had suffered both bouts of desert-like heat and blizzard like chills in the night. Right now, she felt very hot. Sky, seeking relief from the hallucinatory heat, managed to pull herself up and stagger a few feat before falling. She did this again and again, until, in the first light of day, another range creature began to notice.

Wyatt Johnson rode Amber across the valley, towards the four-legged animal that appeared to have trouble doing anything except falling down. His mare nickered in it’s direction, which made him assume it was a horse. As he rode closer, he saw it was a young palomino filly. Angry red wounds crisscrossed her hindquarters and flanks. They were swollen and looked very painful. The filly’s head hung, her legs working feverishly. She tried to walk again, but fell hard on her side. There was no doubt about it. This filly needed help, and quick.
The cowboy dismounted, and led his mare over to the filly. She kicked feebly in his direction. He reached his arms around her belly, and, with a quick lift, placed her behind his saddle. He tied the leather saddle bag strings loosely around her in a supporting net. He then mounted and patted Amber’s neck.

Sky lay on her belly, her hind legs moving slowly back and forth. Her nose rested on the ground, one eye pointing towards the inside of the canyon, the other on the strange creature meandering towards her. It looked like a horse, but it had another head and forelegs. Alarmed, she struggled to stand. But she couldn’t manage more than a step before she fell heavily on her side. Exhausted, she lay flat out. She hoped to die before the terrible creature reached her.
Sky heard hoofbeats a few minutes later. She opened her eyes to see the terrible creature nearly on top of her. Only it had come apart so that there was a horse and a 4 legged thing that only stood on two. Then, the two-leggers arms reached around her. She struggled against the grasp, but still it lifted her up and plunked her on top of the other horse. She felt snake-like things lace around her body. Then the horse started moving, and she was lulled into a dreamless sleep.

“So what’s the verdict, Doc?” Wyatt asked the vet.
“She will most likely survive, but with heavy scarring and possible lameness. The Bureau of Land Management might not accept her, and you could get in legal trouble for interfering with a wild mustang. I would turn her over as soon as possible. I wouldn’t want to get in a legal battle with the government if I were you.” Doc Harmen answered.

“I will. But how much more treatment does she need?” Wyatt questioned.
“Just oral antibiotics and topical antibiotics. The worst is over. But I might try her on milk replacer, too. She looks old enough to be weaned, but it might help with shock.”

“Okay, I’ll tell the BLM. I’ll bring her over right now” Wyatt drawled.
He pulled away from the vets with a horse trailer, carrying the healing foal to a mustang adoption center, run by the BLM. He tried to drive slowly, to keep the filly from being jarred by any potholes or bumps he might hit. Wyatt hoped the filly would find a good home there.

The constant bouncing eventually woke Sky up. The first thing she noticed was the fact that her wounds didn’t hurt nearly as much. They just had a dull, constant sting. The second thing she noticed was that she was in an enclosed space, which sent her into a frenzied panic. She kicked at the walls as best she could lying down. When she attempted to get up, she crashed hard onto her left side. The constant bouncing and the sheer slipperiness of the floor kept her from doing what she wanted most- to run. After several minutes of struggling, Sky lay still. She was still exhausted from her recent ordeal, and had given up, at least for now. She noticed that other than the fact that the space she was in moved, and had a lot of noise, it wasn’t very unlike the cave she had been born in. Sky relaxed, but she felt the “cave” slow to a stop. She started struggling again, because, as a prey animal, her instincts told her too react to any change whatsoever, no matter how slight.

Wyatt flinched as he heard the filly’s hooves clatter against the sides of the trailer. A second later, he heard her fall down hard. He shook his head. This wasn’t good. A filly who couldn’t stand was dead. When he heard her stop kicking, he was alarmed. Had she been hurt in the fall, or was she just resting? He pulled over, just to check. As Wyatt pulled down the ramp to the trailer, he saw tow things: one, the filly was alive and alert. Two, she had gotten up while he had stopped the trailer and was sliding full speed down the ramp towards him. He tried to put out his arms to spook her back in, but it was too late. She had scented freedom.

When the back of the “cave” opened, Sky managed to pull herself up. Then she smelt it. Freedom! In one leap, she was at the “cave’s” door, and sliding down. Then she noticed the two-legger at the end. But she couldn’t stop. It extended it’s raised forelegs to stop her. She plowed right through, and took off in the nearest clear direction.

Well, she tried to take off. But her hind legs were still stiff and sore. So she mostly tripped and hopped. Sky only managed to make it a hundred yards before she slowed to a gait in between a walk and a hop. By then, the two-legger had backed the mare out of the trailer. He leapt onto her back and she galloped towards Sky.

As she galloped nearer to the filly, Amber let out a whinny.
“Ssshh, little foal. I know you’re scared, but if you run you will not survive. You can’t even walk. Let him catch you, and you can live to fight another day.”
Sky squealed as the reddish mare approached. “Don’t you come near me!” But the mare galloped on, her strides stretching longer, until the two-legger on her back started twirling a long, snakeish thing. The two-leger tossed it over Sky’s neck and tightened it until she couldn’t run without it digging in. Deflated, Sky followed quietly behind them. After a few minutes, they reached the “cave”. The two-legger dismounted and led the reddish mare in. Sky had no choice but to follow.

Wyatt yelled after the filly. He watched her attempt to flee, but she couldn’t run, just hop. He unloaded Amber, and leapt onto her bareback. It only took a minute to catch up with the filly. Wyatt tossed his lasso around the filly’s neck. She fought halfheartedly, but soon was reloaded in the trailer.

Sky shook when the “cave” started moving, both from fear and her lack of balance. She lowered her self, exhausted, onto the floor. Sky tried to sleep, but the constant rattling made it impossible to do so. She was tired, so tired. Still weak from her injuries. She slowly drifted into a haze.
“How long has she been like that, sir?” Tina Bedford asked
“Well, she didn’t struggle no more after I recaught her. So I guess that would be about 3 hrs. I had a long drive, and I stopped to let Amber off at my ranch and fer a bite to eat.” Wyatt answered.
“And what did your vet say?”
“He said ya’ll should give her topical and oral antibiotics.”
“Alright. Just sign these papers stating that you found her on government land and turn over any rights to her. This means that you understand that she is ours, and that you cannot touch her anymore without severe penalties. Understood? Sign here.” Tina instructed
“I understand.” Wyatt humored her.
“Good. We’ll unload her and you’ll be on your way.” Tina Bedford ordered.
Tina called several workers over. “Unload her, and put her in recovery stall 2. Our vet will see if it’s worth trying to save her.”

The four men managed to pick the filly up and carry her most of the way. They lay her roughly onto the bedding-less floor and went back to their usual jobs. Tina marched to the office to ask someone to call a vet. When she came back out, Wyatt was still there.

“Sir, you need to leave. This is federally owned land, and you are trespassing. I would love to give you a tour, but I am a hardworking, busy woman.”
“But I wanted to see the vet, to give him the instructions, ya know.” Wyatt drawled.
“Sir, again , I’ll kindly ask you to leave. If it would help, I can have someone escort you.”
“But-“ Wyatt was cut off.
“Sir, this is the last time I will ask you to leave. I can make you leave. Now, why don’t we make this easier and pretend this whole conversation never happened. I’ll be sure to pass on your message, but you cannot stay. Thank you for your help in bringing the filly, but you can’t stay.” Tina interrupted.
Wyatt slowly climbed into his truck and started the engine. He wished there was something he could do, but it would be illegal to take the filly. His hands were tied. She would stay at this place of concrete barns and paddocks, with rough handling. It was what had to be.

William Jones hated his visits to “Shady Hill- Government Owned Mustang Rescue, Rehabilitation, and Holding Center”. The uptight, downright bossy Tina Bedford was always in charge. The workers were assigned by the government, so they were almost always not horse people. He figured if they got rid of the Shady,hill, rescue, rehabilitation and center parts, and added prison, it would describe the place quite well. The place was all wire fences and concrete, with a powdery meal as the only food. The water was held in steal tanks painted drab gray. All of the grass had been removed so that the horse could be fed an equal ration of the dusty feed. He wished the horses could just run free.

When he arrived, Tina Bedford sternly glanced at him before saying, “She apparently was found steerugulin in a cainyawn joost ahbowt threh houarrs nowth oh hear. But I don’t believe it. That idiot cowboy couldn’t even speak proper English, my guess is she was “trained” by those cowboy methods that injure the horse. Might be kinder to put her down than make her live with the memories.”
“Now, Tina,” Will Jones reprimanded. “You have no right to say that about any person. And lets not get ahead of ourselves. I decision.”
“Sir. You have no right to haven’t even seen her yet. Let me look at her, and then we will make our say that to a government worker. If you feel that way, we can certainly contact our other vet, Joe Stanley. He would be quite happy to see her.” Tina scolded.

All color drained from William Jones’s face. Joe Stanley, aka “Put-Down” Stanley, was infamous around the area. He almost never gave a horse a good verdict, even if it only had a minor infection. He was also the mustang centers favored vet. He didn’t know why Tina had called him instead. She seemed to want the filly dead anyways.

“No, no, Miss Bedford. I’ll go see to her now.” It wasn’t worth the argument. Tina, would, of course, win, perhaps at the cost of the filly’s life.
Will Jones glared at the woman’s retreating back as she led him into the barn. Which, for the record, shouldn’t even be called a barn. It was a tall, concrete building with no windows. On both sides of the aisle, stalls stood open. The concrete shell only ever contained the horses in serious trouble. No healthy animals were put inside, but it was a terrible place to be, especially when you were very sick.

“She is in the stall at the end. Do what you need to. I’m heading to the office.” Tina called.

Will new that Tina was hinting that he should put the filly down. He nodded to her and continued into the stall. The filly was lying in an awkward position on the cold cement floor. The government workers hadn’t even bothered to put bedding in. He was mad, but that was nothing unusual. It was rare for the center to not anger him. Will set to examining the filly.

Her eyes were partially open. Her nostrils were crusty, her chest barely moved. Her heart beat slowly, he could feel, and she had alarmingly deep, but healing, wounds along her hindquarters. He reached into his bag and pulled out a topical antibiotic. As he rubbed it on, the filly catapulted herself up and leapt catlike towards the open stall door. Will yelled after her, but it was the wrong thing to do. The filly rushed even faster towards the open door of the building. Will scrambled up in time to see the filly’s legs slip out from under her. She toppled over, unable to keep her footing on the concrete. With a grunt, she pushed her forelegs up, but slipped down again. The vet was at her side a second later.

“Shhh, girl. Sssh. Easy. Nice and easy.” William Jones murmured to the filly.
A minute later, Tina Bedford marched into the barn, wondering what the commotion was all about. What she saw both astounded and infuriated her. The vet, Will Jones, sat on top of the struggling filly’s neck, stroking and calming her.
“What on earth are you doing. Get of that filly this instant, and leave. I can cite you for abusing this mustang, which you are clearly doing. Get off of her, and leave this property. I am a government worker and I order you to leave.” Tina yelled.

Will Jones shouted, “I thought you sedated her. She was so quiet. She ran out here, fell, and I kept her from getting up and running away.”
“Nonsense. Leave right now, or I will remove you from this property.” William shook his head angrily, but he did as he was told and stood up. The filly took this moment to get up, and flee out the open barn door. Will Jones couldn’t hide the grin currently splitting his face.

As Sky came to, she felt a cool, rubbing motion on her hind quarters. She jerked instinctively away from it, her ears pinned. She pulled herself to a standing position, and leapt toward the nearest freedom. She had no time to notice her surroundings. To her dismay, however, freedom appeared to be a distance away. But she still ran, slipping and sliding on the hard, slick floor, towards the open space.

And then she was falling, sliding on her belly. She pushed up with her forelegs, but they to slipped to the ground. And then a weight pressed down onto her neck. Sky screamed, and kicked. But she had no hope of bolting if she couldn’t stand, and she couldn’t stand with the weight. She kicked frantically, but it was no use.

Then a strange thing began to happen. The weight began stroking her neck and nickering. It was strangely calming. Sky slowly calmed down until she lay still. This gave her a chance to notice her surroundings. She was in a “cave”, kind of like the moving one. Only this one was much larger. It had the same even, straight walls and cold, hard ground. A few seconds later, a two-legger, this one with a longer mane, came towards her. Sky kicked and tried to roll, but the weight on her neck kept her from moving. She grunted and squirmed, but it was no use.

Then the two-legger started making sounds that were similar to the nickering the weight had been making, but not as pleasant. All of a sudden, an angry squeal, like that of a stallion before a fight. In a flash, the weight was lifted off of her neck. Sky was on her feet and out of the cave! As Sky ran, or rather leapt and hopped, she heard even angrier squealing behind her. But she didn’t care, she just ran. After several minutes, exhaustion began to creep up on her. At the bottom of the next hill, she collapsed, her legs to tired to move.

Will Jones laughed quietly as Tina Bedford glared at the filly’s retreating form. “I guess I’ll be leaving now, Miss Bedrock. I do hope you find someone who knows how to handle a horse.”

Tina Bedford was seething, both at the filly and that vulgar veterinarian. If that man had shut the door, the filly would still be here. If that secretary, Rebecca, had called the other vet, this wouldn’t have happened. If those workers had shut the barn door, this wouldn’t have happened. She stormed off towards the office to yell at Rebecca and call the other veterinarian. Then she marched to the back paddock, where the workers were still fixing the fence. She let them have it, then called the head of the BLM to have him cite the veterinarian for trespass, animal abuse, and verbally assaulting a government officer. After this, she felt much happier. In only a few minutes, everything would be back to normal. And normal was quiet and orderly, and order was excellent.

The sun slowly began to set. Sky stared at the stars, really and truly noticing them for the first time. They looked like sparks, splashed generously over the black backdrop, darker than even Thunder’s coat. The stars stared coldly down, but they were the same stars Sky had seen with the herd. This gave her new hope. Sky drifted into an uneasy sleep.
Horse News More In This Category:  Horse Fiction      Horse News More From This Author:  Hypnotic Equus
weezapony  
Great story! :)
  Nov 3, 2010  •  1,874 views
 
toffeelola  
wow, awesome story. I hope the BLM treats horses better than this in real life though. love it, keep up the great work!
  Nov 4, 2010  •  1,904 views
 
Unbridled Equus  
Great Story! I also hope the BLm treats horses better than this in real life!
  Nov 4, 2010  •  1,873 views
 
Set Free  
Cool story. is there going to be a part two?
  Nov 5, 2010  •  1,912 views
 
Hypnotic Equus  
I'm working on it, it is kind of unfinished. I just don't like the idea of capturing all of those horses, the blm does treat them better in real life though.
  Nov 5, 2010  •  2,051 views
 
Hypnotic Equus  
There is this one paragraph where it is all messed up. But you can tell what i'm trying to say.
  Nov 5, 2010  •  2,051 views
 
Rein or Shine  
Good story. :) I noticed some puncuatuon/capitalization (sp?) mistakes, but nothing major.

However, I also noticed one or two places where the same adjectives were used in exactly the same way, a matter of sentences apart. Perhaps try to come up with new, fresh, colorful adjectives. :)
  Nov 7, 2010  •  1,896 views
 More News by Hypnotic Equus
Do You Always Wear A Helmet When Riding Horses?
28th Nov 2010   |   Horse Fiction   |   Hypnotic Equus
The risk of head injuries resulting from a fall are astounding. Equestrian riders are hospitalized because of serious head injuries more often than hockey, football, soccer, or boxing. We wear helmets in two of those sports, the o ...
Proper Body Position Over Jumps
6th Nov 2010   |   Horse Fiction   |   Hypnotic Equus
What exactly is the proper position? Proper body position is heels down, legs back slihtly from flat position, and toes flexed out slightly. Your back should be concave, you should have your head up looking over the fence, your ha ...
Riding Tip of the Week 2
2nd Nov 2009   |   Horse Fiction   |   Hypnotic Equus
...
Equestrian Knowledge Newsletter (issue #1)
29th Oct 2009   |   Horse Fiction   |   Hypnotic Equus
...
Riding Tip of the Week
24th Oct 2009   |   Horse Fiction   |   Hypnotic Equus
...
  View All News by Hypnotic Equus
 
©2002 - 2022   PonyBox LLC Create Account Advertise Terms Privacy Contact Us
134 Members Online 271,371 Registered Members 3,082 News Articles 13,747,484 Unique News Article Views 328,269,023 Website Views