Post by Wyatt Parker on Dec 21, 2010 0:07:32 GMT 2
Word Count: 3224
Status: Had a really big urge to write but it had nothing to do with the posts we have going so I just decided to, well, post it. xD
Lyrics: Savin' Me by Nickelback
Wyatt carried the brush over Hero's jet black coat with firm strokes. The stallion was already growing his winter coat and grooming all that hair was becoming a mess. Excess hair gathered from where the brush had combed and Wyatt found that he had to clean the brush more often than he had in the autumn season. Hero seemed relaxed with a hind hoof on its tip, leaning his weight into the brush as Wyatt went on. Whilst it seemed like a tackle for Wyatt, Hero was at his prime. All day the stallion had been aggravated and given Wyatt hell. He had taken the stallion out for some exercise but that plan had backfired pretty quickly. Hero had nearly unseated Wyatt quite a few times and shown him just how strong his head was, pulling at the reins the whole damn time. Now here they were at the end of the day and the stallion was showing no signs of his earlier shenanigans.
You're a damn pest.
Wyatt shook his head and walked back to Hero's neck, running the brush over the mustang's fine neck and then coming forward. He stood facing his horse and holding his hand under the throat, he gently began taking the body brush over Hero's forelock. He was done in no time and when he was he dropped his arm, brush in tow in hand. Wyatt was still holding Hero's head and the stallion reached forwards with his muzzle then turned his head at an angle, rubbing his cheek into his owner's palm. Who knew this stallion could be so affectionate.
Ah, yeah.
Wyatt let go of a heavy sigh then gave the stallion a rub on his velvety muzzle, walking away to the tack room. He had cross tied Hero in his stall with the half door open. The stallion stood patiently and watched with perked ears as his owner walked away. Then he turned his head, curiously looking down the line of stalls and whinnying. Buck had his head over his stall door and snorted in response, nibbling on the latch and twisting it around but to no avail. Wyatt had had plenty of run aways and secured those latches, full-proofing them and preventing any escapees. Wyatt cleaned the brush as he headed to the tack room, tossing the excess hair on the floor as he went along. It didn't make any difference - the floor needed a damn good cleaning anyhow. When Wyatt entered the tack room he did so like clockwork, headed to the plastic bin that held all of the brushes. He picked up a few pellets for his horse then paused, eyeing the leather bridle that was strewn over Hero's saddle. Wyatt lingered an awfully long time then shoved the pellets into his coat pocket. He headed over to the saddle, picking up the bridle and slinging it onto his shoulder then lugging the heavy saddle into his arms. He walked out to Hero who was standing at full attention now at the sight of his saddle. He whinnied again and impatiently danced whilst pulling at the ropes holding him in place.
You give me any damn trouble and we're comin' straight back. Ya hear me?
Wyatt ducked under the rope and hoisted the saddle onto Hero's back. He manouvered around the dancing stallion to place the bridle on the hook then returned to the saddle, fixing it into position then doing up the girth. He ducked under the rope again to face Hero. He undid the halter and slid it around the stallion's neck, keeping it loose but still able to prevent the stallion from running whilst Wyatt fixed on the bridle. Wyatt retrieved the bridle off the hook and stood alongside Hero, urging him to take the bit then sliding the bridle over his ears. The reins hung loose from Hero's bit and the grass rein was sloping down at his hooves. Wyatt did up the throat lash and then slid the loose halter over Hero's head and undid the tie. As he got a hold on the reins the stallion walked out, snorting and dancing on his front hooves as he expectantly pranced alongside Wyatt.
C'mon.
Wyatt stroked the stallions neck and led him on towards the barn doors, passing all of the other curious faces of the ranch horses. Wildcat peeped out of her stall even with Dee's little muzzle soon following and sniffing wildly at the top of the stall door. Hero halted with his tail held high and reached out, sniffing Dee's muzzle which was ridiculously small next to Hero's large grey one. Wildcat nibbled on Hero's cheek, objecting with a grunt when he bumped his muzzle into her neck. When Hero hit his front hoof against the stall door Wyatt whistled. It was quite high and caught Hero's attention. The stallion snorted and gave one glance at the mare and foal before moving on. Dee was causing a fuss with his dam and kicked at the stall door in return. Both of Hero's colts were never lacking in energy and showed plenty of that mustang charisma. Wyatt just knew that his stallions sons were going to give him plenty of trouble once they became of age.
Once they were out of the barn Wyatt turned around and closed the doors, shutting off the light and leaving the horses in the barn to rest for the night. They'd all calm down soon enough but something inside of Wyatt was urging him to go out there into the Arizona plains. As guilty as it made him feel, he couldn't go back to the house. Not right then. He needed to get out and clear his head again. So he was doing that with the one horse that Wyatt had a true bond with. He had raised Hero from birth and the two had a bond that would never break. Through thick and thin these two were the truest of friends. They both tolerated each other and, it wasn't always just a give and take. Wyatt tugged the reins over Hero's head and holding onto the saddle horn he put his boot into the stirrup, hauling himself over into the saddle with one big leap. Putting the tip of his other boot in the stirrup he urged Hero on. The black mustang walked on with his head bobbing up and down before running forwards into a trot. It was quick paced at first but with some signals using his legs, Wyatt urged his horse to lengthen his gait to make the seat comfortable for them both. Wyatt tied the grass rein around the horn and holding the reins loosely the two trotted off and away from Silver Stag Ranch. It was night and darkness was settling in all around them. Wyatt hadn't seen Billy standing in the bunker's window, looking out as Wyatt went off.
"Now what in god's name is that man doin'?"Prison gates won't open up for me
On these hands and knees I'm crawlin'
Oh, I reach for you
Well I'm terrified of these four walls
These iron bars can't hold my soul in
All I need is you
Come please I'm callin'
And oh I scream for you
Hurry I'm fallin', I'm fallin'
Show me what it's like
To be the last one standing
And teach me wrong from right
And I'll show you what I can be
Say it for me
Say it to me
And I'll leave this life behind me
Say it if it's worth saving me
It had been a good half hour now and the two had come down to a walk, going at a fairly good pace with Wyatt looking no where but straight ahead. Hero stretched his neck forwards then flicked one of his ears backwards, nibbling at the bit and fighting on the rein.
Alright, boy. I got the hint.
Wyatt reached forewards and patted his horse on the neck. With a nudge from his heels on the stallion's sides, he lurched forwards, not before throwing his head up and kicking forwards with his front legs. Wyatt leaned forwards in the saddle and carried his hands up the horse's neck a bit. Hero went off at a gallop, stretching his neck out and his legs carried him swiftly over the dodgy Arizona desert soil. There were little bumps here and there but Hero was bred from a line of mustangs who had become adapted to the Arizona territory and carried themselves well through the toughest of times. Hero was a hardy horse and quite large for his breed - he was flying over those plains. Wyatt's stetson pulled back but lucky it was caught around his neck with the light piece of string. Wyatt let his horse guide him and head towards Rickshaw mountains. Ahead of them the river was turning up and eventually they joined sides with the Taimanen river. This was the only place where the river joined up with anything significant. It ran inbetween two of the Rickshaw mountains into a place called Tabby rocks. That was Wyatt and Lily's favourite retreat when they had been younger. When they had been first married Wyatt had taken her out here on horseback, spread out a blanket on the rock and they'd made love under a starry, starry night. Wyatt could never forget that night because it was one of his happiest with Lily, who he was proud to call his wife.
Hero's neck began to curl in and his gaits became a little shorter. He was nearing the Tabby rocks and eventually came down a notch, cantering a little further away from the river with Wyatt sitting back firmly in his seat. He tightened up the rein and drew Hero in. They made a smooth transition down to a walk with Hero huffing and puffing. He snorted, shaking his head a few times and his mane flapped from side to side with a slap. Wyatt himself was a little out of breath and patted his horse on the neck.
Damn fine run, Hero.
He praised his horse, the corner of his mouth curling up into a faint smile. They neared Tabby rocks and took another route slightly up the mountain. The path was clear and all the trees were in the distance, this area secluded with a trail that needed some wear and tear. It was difficult to see in the light and they sometimes wondered off of the trail but found their way back. Wyatt sat forwards in his seat as the trail led them further uphill. Hero threw his head down and pushed his weight into it, safely carrying his rider up and up. Wyatt could hear Hero's hooves kicking up some stones more often which was a sign that they were Tabby rocks. Sure enough two boulders came up ahead, the entrance to one of the safest havens on this earth. Hero was unsure at first, having not visited this place for a long time but with some encouragement from Wyatt he walked through. His ears moved back and forth. Instincts told him flight over fight and Hero was preparing himself. Wyatt squeezed a little more with legs, encouraging the stallion on and eventually he calmed down. The branched off trail led them straight to the river and it rushed over the rocks surprisingly quietly. Hero sensed the peacefullness this place exerted and he relaxed, sniffing at plant tuft curiously along the way. Eventually Wyatt pulled up his horse and dismounted before the path became too narrow for him to do so. He pulled the reins over his head and led Hero onwards to the side of the river. This was one of the only places where it was low enough for them to access off of a trail. Everywhere else you could only reach the river by climbing over a few boulders. Wyatt let Hero drink from the river, waiting patiently as his horse made some amusing sucking noises. He played with his muzzle in the river and sloshed the water around. Hero even reached forwards with his hoof and splashed in the water.
Ya goof.
Wyatt laughed and once Hero was done, he led him to a patch of dry sand along the river. Hero pawed at the ground with his front hoof and then nudged Wyatt. Wyatt gave in, undoing the girth on Hero's saddle and heaving the tack off of the mustangs back. He left the bridle on and tied up the reins on the throat lash. He wouldn't usually do something as risky as that but they were secluded enough. Hero dropped to the ground and Wyatt had to back away. Groaning the stallion leaned onto his side and before Wyatt knew it, those black legs of his were up in the air as the stallion rolled. All that grooming went to nothing and yet Wyatt was smiling. His horse was content and for those few moments Wyatt had been as well, but it was hard to discard all of those thoughts milling around in his mind. Hero didn't stand after his roll, instead lying on his side with his long legs folded beneath him. He dragged his muzzle around on the sand, snorting and blowing up a puff of sand into the cold air then raising his head as a breeze blew past. The breeze blew through Hero's long, black mane. The stallions nostrils widened as he caught the scents then lay quietly, his dark eyes fixing on his owner.
Wyatt had taken up a seat on one of the boulders with his legs hanging over the edge. He removed his stetson and sat it alongside him. He had his elbows on his knees and his arms were hanging limply over his shins. He was leaning forwards slightly and looking down at the sand below him. Hero neighed then lay quietly, still lying with his legs folded beneath him. The black horse looked majestic under the blue lighting. Eventually Wyatt leaned backwards, laying down on the boulder on his back. He folded his hands over his stomach and looked up at the starry winter night sky. It was clear and the noises all around him were swallowed as the water of the Taimanen river flowed over the many rocks that had once fallen from the towering zephyrs of the Rickshaw mountains.
Here he was, looking up at that sight with his family on his mind. He missed his father's wise old words, always in his ear but he had never not appreciated the advice his old man had given him. Thinking about it now his heart sank. His heart sank even further when he thought of the day he asked Lily if she had come back for a divorce. That first time he had touched her after two year's apart. The first time he had kissed her. The time when Lily had taken that bright red bow off of Beau's poll and onto Wyatt's own forehead. The time when he had first held his daughter. That time he'd found Katy trying to hide a picture of her mother that she had found. It all overwhelmed him and Wyatt had to sit up. His chest was closing and like he always did, he buried his face into his hands. It took him some time before he could breath in that crisp Arizona air. His hands moved back, his fingers combing through his hair and resting his interlocked hands on the back of his head. Once again he was looking down at the sand below him. His eyes remained there until they grew out of focus and Wyatt was forced to look up. He saw Hero lying there, patiently waiting on his owner whilst enjoying the freedom of being in the place where his heart belonged.
It was always hard but Wyatt lived for those times. He thrived in an environment where things were tough. He had that thick skin that enabled him to live through anything no matter how much it hurt to watch his own heart break. He had had his time to wallow and there were those times he had to feel happy again. Being happy was when Wyatt was at his best. He was friendlier and those two years apart from Lily had hardened him. The townspeople of Westin had never known him to be quite that isolated. Sure, he'd always been a somewhat quiet rancher but when he wasn't with Lily, raising a kid on his own, he was a different man. He didn't regret being that man but he didn't much like being that way. He wanted happiness to find its way to Silver Stag Ranch again, to be back in his prime with a family and a career. He knew he could live without Lily, as much as it hurt, but without his livelihood he was nothing. What else did Wyatt know besides this place? Wyatt rubbed the back of his neck as these thoughts bounced back and forth in his mind. For once it felt good to feel all of these emotions out in the open. No one was here to see him at his weakest and for that he was grateful. Having experienced all of that would save him a lot of trouble later. He could face his life again. What man didn't need some time apart? No matter how much he loved his family, he also needed a bit of help. That help was a ride out in the plains and clearing his head. That was all Wyatt needed and for that he was a simple man.
Wyatt whistled a low whistle and Hero's ears perked backwards. Having heard the familiar call his mustang shook his head then stood to attention, raising himself onto all fours and shaking off the sand. He turned towards Wyatt and neighed, confused by the height at which Wyatt was sitting and throwing his head up.
Comin'.
Wyatt jumped off of the boulder and walked those few steps towards the stallion, rubbing his muzzle affectionately then manouvering around. With his hand he brushed off all of the sand clinging to the mustangs black coat. He worked on it a long time and the exercise was soothing for both man and horse. Wyatt's horses all appreciated human touch rather than the brush, as satisfying as a body brush could be, there was nothing compared to the quiet touch of a human hand. Wyatt moved around to the other side and eventually Hero was mostly clear of the sand granules. Wyatt undid the reins from the throat lash and ground tied Hero. He walked over to where he had left the saddle, hoisting it into his arms and carrying it over. He laid it on the horse's back, sliding it over the withers and into position then doing up the girth. He pulled the reins over Hero's head and mounted up. Wyatt paused for a moment, looking back on the river and then facing towards the trail. Hero walked forwards with a little nudge of Wyatt's heels. Once they were back on the trail it seemed a little more hazardous going downhill but the two made it. From there Wyatt urged Hero into a gallop that carried them on home. It took them a long time with breaks into canter and eventually a walk but the trip seemed shorter than it had been going to Tabby rocks. Now Silver Stag Ranch was in sight and there was Noah, standing on the house porch wagging his tail. Wyatt adjusted his stetson and leaned forwards, stroking Hero's neck. It must have been nearing midnight at that point. Wyatt had no sure clue what the time was but it was pitch black looking back from where they had come but the two instinctively knew where home was. Back at the ranch, the porch lights were still on.
