Post by Arvella Northstar on Feb 4, 2017 5:29:24 GMT 10
I actually wrote this story for the forum contest, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to post it in here as well. The title has a meaning to it, so post below if you think you've figured it out. I'd love feedback, too.
Alrighty, here it goes!
An Eternal Silhouette
I didn’t realize it with the creaks in the wooden floors leading up to my stall, nor with the monotone voice of The Woman who would train the Children. Her clucks were routine, encouraging me away from my hay. I had already walked and trotted circles with Beings barely older than toddlers. I’d done my day’s work with the timid – or so I thought. The Being this time, though, could hardly be considered a Child anymore. A body and face similar to that of The Woman were present on her medium frame.
An obvious fear radiated off of her – almost like reverse anger – it seemed like she was afraid of me. I mean, I understand the wariness of the almost-Children – I’m more than ten times their size. But this almost-Being was tall enough to ride one of the Lanky horses – like that new Cassie. I heard she used to be a Circle-Runner. Or even one of the Plodder horses – the large-barreled, drum-hooved horses with ‘feathers’ (practically tails) around their thick hooves. But it was my stall door they opened and my halter that The Woman slipped over my head.
She cooed words at the almost-Being who was, more often than not, called Kara. It seemed like it was her title, almost like The Woman is for, well, The Woman. They led me out of my stall, bringing me to one of my most dreaded places – the Cross-Ties. The rings on the sides of my halter were clipped to the Cross-Ties’ ropes. I hated this place, mainly due to my restricted range of motion. The Woman handed almost-Being-Kara a carrot and motioned towards my face. Pretending to ignore my approaching treat, I stood stone-still until almost-Being-Kara held the orange morsel right in front of me. Submission shone in her eyes and she hesitantly reached out, handing the crunchy treat to me. I quickly nabbed it from her pale fingers and chomped on it, grateful for my well-deserved treat. They did, after all, disturb my hay eating.
I got strokes from various brushes in the following minutes and I lifted each of my legs in turn as they brushed the dust out of it. Figuring that I would only be getting a grooming, I closed my eyes and began to doze off. However, they rudely slumped a pad and then saddle onto my back, cinching my stomach with a leather girth. I pinned my ears and stomped to show my protest, but it came to no avail as The Woman showed almost-Being-Kara how to put a cold piece of metal into my mouth and tighten the leather straps around my head in a painstakingly slow fashion.
The Woman unhooked the Cross-Ties and led me out of The Barn, talking to almost-Being-Kara about who-knows-what. The only words I caught from their gibberish were ‘walk, trot, canter,’ which I accepted with an adverse snort.
After only a little while longer of gibberish talking, we reached the Work-Place. It was a large area enclosed by fencing, creating a large oval. I would usually only walk-trot with barely-Children while they figured out how to balance.
Almost-Being-Kara shuffled next to me, not even needing a mounting block to get on. I could feel her trembling through the saddle. Her hands kept contact through the reins, but her trembling was even more obvious through that. The way she sat – I could feel heavy shoulders, lowered head, and forward-leaning – it was as if she were preparing for me to bolt or rear. I wouldn’t, obviously, because I had no motivation to do so. But almost-Being-Kara felt like she’d been a talented rider on a horse before – but that horse gave her a bad experience. The Woman ordered out gaits – I reluctantly gave a walk, trot, and canter. Almost-Being-Kara seemed to relax finally once she realized that I had no intentions of pulling a shenanigan. Her weight was comfortable, even – she had a very soft grip on the reins and a very light post in the trot. Even her seat at the canter was enjoyable. It was a relieving break from the barely-Children that would usually plop around on my back and yank on my mouth for balance.
The Woman even left almost-Being-Kara and I to walk around the arena after the lesson. I had worked up a sweat and my muscles ached, but pleasantly. Almost-Being-Kara was petting my neck and talking to me warmly as we headed back to the Barn. She led me back into the despicable Cross-Ties and deftly undid my bridle, guiding the bit out of my mouth. She quickly un-tacked me after the bridle was off, bringing me over to also-despicable Wash-Rack. I snorted gratefully when she rinsed me off instead of bathing me – my impatience grew while I thought about the hay waiting for me inside of my stall.
Finally, I was allowed to return to munching in my stall – there was even another mound of hay waiting for me! But, better yet, a bucket full of grain! I quickly stuffed my face, nearly choking a few times. Once the bucket was licked clean, I returned to my hay. I nibbled on it for a little while. As the commotion with the other horses and riders eventually died down, I wondered where almost-Being-Kara had gotten to. She didn’t even give me a carrot for letting her ride me! Pinning my ears at the thought, I returned to my hay, eating it despite still being sickeningly full from the grain.
The next morning, I was surprised to see almost-Being-Kara again – and with extra carrots! I made sure to eat them all before letting her put the dreaded tack back on me. She rode me even gentler than the previous day – I could sense peace within her mind, which had been racing just yesterday.
Throughout the next few weeks and even months, the barely-Children rode me less and almost-Being-Kara came to see me almost every day, sometimes even with peppermints or apples instead of carrots! We soon began trotting and cantering over small ground-poles, graduating up to little jumps. Gradually, we began jumping larger jumps – jumps taller and broader than I! Almost-Being-Kara – who I would usually think of as just Kara now – was very religiously devoted to what we did. I had never felt a bond so strong as the one we had. It was even stronger than my bond to treats.
We eventually started doing Shows – they were things where a bunch of Beings would cluster around to watch various horses dash around a course of jumps. There would be ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ whenever a horse would clear a jump without touching it, and if they finished the course without touching any, the Beings would shout and cheer. The entire idea of it had no purpose to me, but Kara would always surge with energy and a touch of fear whenever we would do a course at a Show. I would feel happiness and pride flood from her whenever the crowd would shout and cheer – her emotions started bleeding into mine, and then I understood Shows. They were to demonstrate the trust and bond between one of me and a Being.
There was one time that all of the girls and even The Woman surrounded the Talking-Box in one of the corners of the barn. They all squealed, but I had no idea why. I even perked my ears to try to hear whatever they heard. It wasn’t until later when Kara came into my stall and gave me so many treats I got a stomach ache! I still ate the rest of the treats. She kept repeating our names, and then the word Show. I couldn’t make out the rest of the gibberish, but from the excitement radiating off of her, I figured that something important was happening.
I clearly remember one Show in particular – this Show was inside a special shelter. I had no idea why, though, since the weather was just fine. It didn’t make much sense, but I didn’t spend much time pondering. The idea of an indoor Show made Kara swell with an extra dose of energy and pride, I guessed, since she very obviously beamed. I began to feel her energy and pride, too - it felt like we were definitely going to make the crowd shout today.
After watching rounds and rounds of horses and their Beings rush through the course – most of which had touched jumps – it was our turn. We entered the arena at a comfortable trot. The buzzer went off. Kara leaped forward in the saddle and I gladly stepped into a gallop – my favorite gait aside from the walk – and we sped towards the first jump. The top bar was set far above my head, but I felt the power in my legs flood as I reached over the highest bar. I could barely feel Kara aside from the energy pouring off of her – concentration and hope. I landed gingerly on my front hooves, eagerly searching for our next trial – a double-bar jump in just a few short strides. I compressed the adrenaline in my body, forcing myself to ignore the excitement while bounding over the jump - with room to spare. We did most of the rest of the course like this – surge, compress, search, repeat – and then the final hurdle loomed before us. She held onto my mane and let me go at it with all of my excitement – something I wish she hadn’t done. I pushed all of my energy out through my front hooves, not realizing that I had forgotten about actually jumping. We were far too close to the jump to take off – but I wasn’t about to give up. I scrambled my legs up and sprung at the jump itself. Gasps could be heard from the crowd.
I knew this would end badly.
Kara still held onto my mane, but desperately. I felt her legs loosen around my sides. She was beginning to fall.
In the process of trying to get over the jump, I had run into it almost head-on. I felt one of the jump poles snap under my weight as I catapulted aimlessly off of the ground. The earth was racing towards my face, and I knew Kara could see the same thing. I landed square on my nose and felt the weight of my body flip from my face and onto my back, legs stretching into the air like a helpless bug. I could hear the muffled screams of Kara – my Kara – underneath my body. I writhed and squirmed, desperate to get off of her. I realized that it would take everything in me to get up – I heaved myself forwards, feeling a large ‘pop’ near my hindquarters while I pushed. A flicker of pain started in the tip of my tail, going ablaze in my back legs. I couldn’t help but let out a sound, but I kept trying to get myself up. With horror I realized that my back legs weren’t ablaze anymore – I couldn’t feel them at all. I ignored it, though, and focused on my Kara – the first carrot she gave me, our first ride…
I managed to get most of my weight off of her by the time I felt another burst in my body – it felt like it was in my withers when it happened. A wail escaped me and I somehow threw the rest of my weight to the side – away from my Kara. I felt and heard another ‘crack’ in my body – this time inside my neck. Beings had already rushed over. I stole a glance at my Kara – she was on her feet. A wave of ease washed over my burning body. I could no longer feel any of my legs, and the fire was clawing its way up my neck, leaving numbness in its wake. But it didn’t matter – my Kara - my Kara was safe. I could only feel tingling in every limb and butterflies leaping in my heart when my Kara limped over towards me. I tried to steady her, only to realize that there was no way for me to do so. She wobbly kneeled down beside my head. I gazed at her through clouding vision. I saw a hand of hers reach down and I felt a pressure on my neck, tingling surrounding the sensation. I tried to fight the numbness, but everything was growing dimmer by the second.
I saw The Woman walk over with another Being. The Woman knelt beside my Kara and embraced her. The other Being squatted next to both of them. I saw something in her hands, but I had no idea what until I felt a small pinch in my neck. Coolness quickly trickled throughout me and I felt a heaviness in my eyelids. Sleep beckoned me, but I didn’t dare look away from my Kara. I tried to battle the weight in my body and the density of my eyelids.
It was then that I realized that I had found my person – in my dying moments. In my last breaths, I wordlessly thanked my Kara for giving me a chance. In my last, shadowing thoughts, I remembered the first time she trusted me – and then when she came back to trust me again. I remembered the first time I learned to trust her and give my all to her. Her life gave my life purpose. It was all that I could do to hope that mine did the same for hers.
As the lights faded out and the coolness took over, I could still feel the outline of her hand on my neck and hear her words in my ears – “You will always be my Silhouette.”
Alrighty, here it goes!
An Eternal Silhouette
I didn’t realize it with the creaks in the wooden floors leading up to my stall, nor with the monotone voice of The Woman who would train the Children. Her clucks were routine, encouraging me away from my hay. I had already walked and trotted circles with Beings barely older than toddlers. I’d done my day’s work with the timid – or so I thought. The Being this time, though, could hardly be considered a Child anymore. A body and face similar to that of The Woman were present on her medium frame.
An obvious fear radiated off of her – almost like reverse anger – it seemed like she was afraid of me. I mean, I understand the wariness of the almost-Children – I’m more than ten times their size. But this almost-Being was tall enough to ride one of the Lanky horses – like that new Cassie. I heard she used to be a Circle-Runner. Or even one of the Plodder horses – the large-barreled, drum-hooved horses with ‘feathers’ (practically tails) around their thick hooves. But it was my stall door they opened and my halter that The Woman slipped over my head.
She cooed words at the almost-Being who was, more often than not, called Kara. It seemed like it was her title, almost like The Woman is for, well, The Woman. They led me out of my stall, bringing me to one of my most dreaded places – the Cross-Ties. The rings on the sides of my halter were clipped to the Cross-Ties’ ropes. I hated this place, mainly due to my restricted range of motion. The Woman handed almost-Being-Kara a carrot and motioned towards my face. Pretending to ignore my approaching treat, I stood stone-still until almost-Being-Kara held the orange morsel right in front of me. Submission shone in her eyes and she hesitantly reached out, handing the crunchy treat to me. I quickly nabbed it from her pale fingers and chomped on it, grateful for my well-deserved treat. They did, after all, disturb my hay eating.
I got strokes from various brushes in the following minutes and I lifted each of my legs in turn as they brushed the dust out of it. Figuring that I would only be getting a grooming, I closed my eyes and began to doze off. However, they rudely slumped a pad and then saddle onto my back, cinching my stomach with a leather girth. I pinned my ears and stomped to show my protest, but it came to no avail as The Woman showed almost-Being-Kara how to put a cold piece of metal into my mouth and tighten the leather straps around my head in a painstakingly slow fashion.
The Woman unhooked the Cross-Ties and led me out of The Barn, talking to almost-Being-Kara about who-knows-what. The only words I caught from their gibberish were ‘walk, trot, canter,’ which I accepted with an adverse snort.
After only a little while longer of gibberish talking, we reached the Work-Place. It was a large area enclosed by fencing, creating a large oval. I would usually only walk-trot with barely-Children while they figured out how to balance.
Almost-Being-Kara shuffled next to me, not even needing a mounting block to get on. I could feel her trembling through the saddle. Her hands kept contact through the reins, but her trembling was even more obvious through that. The way she sat – I could feel heavy shoulders, lowered head, and forward-leaning – it was as if she were preparing for me to bolt or rear. I wouldn’t, obviously, because I had no motivation to do so. But almost-Being-Kara felt like she’d been a talented rider on a horse before – but that horse gave her a bad experience. The Woman ordered out gaits – I reluctantly gave a walk, trot, and canter. Almost-Being-Kara seemed to relax finally once she realized that I had no intentions of pulling a shenanigan. Her weight was comfortable, even – she had a very soft grip on the reins and a very light post in the trot. Even her seat at the canter was enjoyable. It was a relieving break from the barely-Children that would usually plop around on my back and yank on my mouth for balance.
The Woman even left almost-Being-Kara and I to walk around the arena after the lesson. I had worked up a sweat and my muscles ached, but pleasantly. Almost-Being-Kara was petting my neck and talking to me warmly as we headed back to the Barn. She led me back into the despicable Cross-Ties and deftly undid my bridle, guiding the bit out of my mouth. She quickly un-tacked me after the bridle was off, bringing me over to also-despicable Wash-Rack. I snorted gratefully when she rinsed me off instead of bathing me – my impatience grew while I thought about the hay waiting for me inside of my stall.
Finally, I was allowed to return to munching in my stall – there was even another mound of hay waiting for me! But, better yet, a bucket full of grain! I quickly stuffed my face, nearly choking a few times. Once the bucket was licked clean, I returned to my hay. I nibbled on it for a little while. As the commotion with the other horses and riders eventually died down, I wondered where almost-Being-Kara had gotten to. She didn’t even give me a carrot for letting her ride me! Pinning my ears at the thought, I returned to my hay, eating it despite still being sickeningly full from the grain.
The next morning, I was surprised to see almost-Being-Kara again – and with extra carrots! I made sure to eat them all before letting her put the dreaded tack back on me. She rode me even gentler than the previous day – I could sense peace within her mind, which had been racing just yesterday.
Throughout the next few weeks and even months, the barely-Children rode me less and almost-Being-Kara came to see me almost every day, sometimes even with peppermints or apples instead of carrots! We soon began trotting and cantering over small ground-poles, graduating up to little jumps. Gradually, we began jumping larger jumps – jumps taller and broader than I! Almost-Being-Kara – who I would usually think of as just Kara now – was very religiously devoted to what we did. I had never felt a bond so strong as the one we had. It was even stronger than my bond to treats.
We eventually started doing Shows – they were things where a bunch of Beings would cluster around to watch various horses dash around a course of jumps. There would be ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ whenever a horse would clear a jump without touching it, and if they finished the course without touching any, the Beings would shout and cheer. The entire idea of it had no purpose to me, but Kara would always surge with energy and a touch of fear whenever we would do a course at a Show. I would feel happiness and pride flood from her whenever the crowd would shout and cheer – her emotions started bleeding into mine, and then I understood Shows. They were to demonstrate the trust and bond between one of me and a Being.
There was one time that all of the girls and even The Woman surrounded the Talking-Box in one of the corners of the barn. They all squealed, but I had no idea why. I even perked my ears to try to hear whatever they heard. It wasn’t until later when Kara came into my stall and gave me so many treats I got a stomach ache! I still ate the rest of the treats. She kept repeating our names, and then the word Show. I couldn’t make out the rest of the gibberish, but from the excitement radiating off of her, I figured that something important was happening.
I clearly remember one Show in particular – this Show was inside a special shelter. I had no idea why, though, since the weather was just fine. It didn’t make much sense, but I didn’t spend much time pondering. The idea of an indoor Show made Kara swell with an extra dose of energy and pride, I guessed, since she very obviously beamed. I began to feel her energy and pride, too - it felt like we were definitely going to make the crowd shout today.
After watching rounds and rounds of horses and their Beings rush through the course – most of which had touched jumps – it was our turn. We entered the arena at a comfortable trot. The buzzer went off. Kara leaped forward in the saddle and I gladly stepped into a gallop – my favorite gait aside from the walk – and we sped towards the first jump. The top bar was set far above my head, but I felt the power in my legs flood as I reached over the highest bar. I could barely feel Kara aside from the energy pouring off of her – concentration and hope. I landed gingerly on my front hooves, eagerly searching for our next trial – a double-bar jump in just a few short strides. I compressed the adrenaline in my body, forcing myself to ignore the excitement while bounding over the jump - with room to spare. We did most of the rest of the course like this – surge, compress, search, repeat – and then the final hurdle loomed before us. She held onto my mane and let me go at it with all of my excitement – something I wish she hadn’t done. I pushed all of my energy out through my front hooves, not realizing that I had forgotten about actually jumping. We were far too close to the jump to take off – but I wasn’t about to give up. I scrambled my legs up and sprung at the jump itself. Gasps could be heard from the crowd.
I knew this would end badly.
Kara still held onto my mane, but desperately. I felt her legs loosen around my sides. She was beginning to fall.
In the process of trying to get over the jump, I had run into it almost head-on. I felt one of the jump poles snap under my weight as I catapulted aimlessly off of the ground. The earth was racing towards my face, and I knew Kara could see the same thing. I landed square on my nose and felt the weight of my body flip from my face and onto my back, legs stretching into the air like a helpless bug. I could hear the muffled screams of Kara – my Kara – underneath my body. I writhed and squirmed, desperate to get off of her. I realized that it would take everything in me to get up – I heaved myself forwards, feeling a large ‘pop’ near my hindquarters while I pushed. A flicker of pain started in the tip of my tail, going ablaze in my back legs. I couldn’t help but let out a sound, but I kept trying to get myself up. With horror I realized that my back legs weren’t ablaze anymore – I couldn’t feel them at all. I ignored it, though, and focused on my Kara – the first carrot she gave me, our first ride…
I managed to get most of my weight off of her by the time I felt another burst in my body – it felt like it was in my withers when it happened. A wail escaped me and I somehow threw the rest of my weight to the side – away from my Kara. I felt and heard another ‘crack’ in my body – this time inside my neck. Beings had already rushed over. I stole a glance at my Kara – she was on her feet. A wave of ease washed over my burning body. I could no longer feel any of my legs, and the fire was clawing its way up my neck, leaving numbness in its wake. But it didn’t matter – my Kara - my Kara was safe. I could only feel tingling in every limb and butterflies leaping in my heart when my Kara limped over towards me. I tried to steady her, only to realize that there was no way for me to do so. She wobbly kneeled down beside my head. I gazed at her through clouding vision. I saw a hand of hers reach down and I felt a pressure on my neck, tingling surrounding the sensation. I tried to fight the numbness, but everything was growing dimmer by the second.
I saw The Woman walk over with another Being. The Woman knelt beside my Kara and embraced her. The other Being squatted next to both of them. I saw something in her hands, but I had no idea what until I felt a small pinch in my neck. Coolness quickly trickled throughout me and I felt a heaviness in my eyelids. Sleep beckoned me, but I didn’t dare look away from my Kara. I tried to battle the weight in my body and the density of my eyelids.
It was then that I realized that I had found my person – in my dying moments. In my last breaths, I wordlessly thanked my Kara for giving me a chance. In my last, shadowing thoughts, I remembered the first time she trusted me – and then when she came back to trust me again. I remembered the first time I learned to trust her and give my all to her. Her life gave my life purpose. It was all that I could do to hope that mine did the same for hers.
As the lights faded out and the coolness took over, I could still feel the outline of her hand on my neck and hear her words in my ears – “You will always be my Silhouette.”