Disclaimer: I don't own YGO and suck at humor, so bluntly said, I repeat: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!
He could still remember his first horse, a mare, if he could recall correctly, and a gentle one at that. He could still remember the first time he had fallen off.
The saddle had been slick and the lack of horn, for it was an English saddle, was new to him. He had bounced right off on the third stride of the horse's trot and had landed on the ground on his butt. (1)
The fall hadn't been all that painful and the horse had stopped and looked at him, like she was surprised her rider had fallen off. He had laughed and gotten back on.
That mare had been the sweetest one of his horses, all of which held no candle to this new son-of-a-gun's spirit.
Said son-of-a-gun was running around the round-pen like the devil himself were after him; he would then spook at something non-existent on the outside of the corral and turn and strike out in the opposite direction. His black mane and tail flew out behind a lathering and sweaty buckskin body lined with muscle.
The man sat there, admiring his new trainee, the new one to go through the training that many of the city slickers around the town of Dry Ridge called "Horse Boot Camp". He had gone from a young lad to a man and from a horse lover to a horse person to a horse trainer and then combined all three. He had started at 10 and was now working his way to 23 years of age.
He chuckled, "Horse Boot Camp it is!" He then turned the buckskin that had stopped and measuring the amount of sweat on him, there was no doubt he had stopped in utter exhaustion. "There's water in the corner. Training starts tomorrow and if I where you I would rest up! On Rocking Y Ranch we take nothing at second best." With that he left the horse that had calmed down quite a bit and walked through the last waning lights of the day towards his house just a few feet away from the round-pen and the barn.
He sighed as he walked inside the temperature never fluctuating as it was a mild August.
He made his way through the western style home and to the bathroom. He stripped his shirt off and stopped staring at his torso.
He had been through many a fight and it showed with the scars that crisscrossed their way across his chest like so many forgotten rivers of memory. Knife fights, horse kicks, drunken brawls, and gun wounds, he had been through them all. The most prominent scar was one that was shaped in a long swirling form that ran from his left should to his other shoulder and went over the top to run down his chest to stop at his belly button, a knife fight, he had not been the victor.
A tattoo decorated his face and his arm. A wolf ran from his right ear to his nose, jumped over it and lunged at his eye opening its mouth around it and freezing in mid flight. (2)
There was also a Y on a rocker sat on his arm and had two horse heads on the side. (3)
Then he sighed and stripped the rest of his clothes off to enjoy a shower before bed.
The morning saw him at the edge of the round pen again except this time he had a little "encouragement" or what business people liked to call bribes. It was a big lump of sweat grain that stuck on his hand with all the molasses it was weighed down with.
Black tipped ears pricked up and a snort was heard, inwardly laughing the snow white haired boy stood near the fence cocking a defined eyebrow and sporting an infamous smirk that said 'Is it working'.
The horse snorted and tossed its head, insulted.
He rose the other eyebrow to meet the first the look changing from a joking and slightly serious look to a challenging and warning one that said 'We can do this the hard way or we can to this the easy way. I'm offering you the easy…'
The horse didn't listen.
It huffed harder this time and took deliberate steps to put its butt in Bakura's face.
He smirked. Hard way it was.
He hoped over the fence and seemingly ignored the horse that started spazing. He plopped himself right in the middle of the arena, hand always outstretched with the treat on it. (Did you guys think he was going to beat the horse? Naughty Readers!)
Watching the horse, Bakura steeled himself for sleepless nights out in the pen. Horse Boot Camp was not a cake walk be it for trainers or their trainees.
Two Weeks Later
Bakura had practically moved into the round pen. He sat there during the day until the sun went down with a new treat everyday and slept outside of the pen in a sleeping bag. He left only when meals and water for him and his horse became a necessity and even then he ate all his meals by the round pen after fixing it inside.
The horse had learned in about a day that running and going haywire all over the place was not the answer but it had taken him until about a week ago to finally break out of his not interested façade.
Today he felt that he had made real progress with the fact that the horse had actually came up, albeit hesitantly to snatch the treat away from his hand.
The horse had then come by later that day before he retired to his temporary camp outside the pen and sniffed his hand for more and had let Bakura reach out to stroke the gelding before he had trotted off, indignant by Bakura's lack of treat.
Bakura had chuckled and then settled down for a good sleep before tomorrow. The egg shell stepping with the horse had gone well and now he was going to be quick about it. Training was going to become second nature for horse and man. The work had only just begun.
Foot Notes:
This actually happened to me, on top of my horse (a gelding named Hershey) He was so sweet! Alas, we sold him to someone who will actually use him, because I don't ride anymore. (theme inspired by a fic called "Wild Aces")
I actually had this in a story I was writing. I thought it would be an AWESOME tattoo, though I don't think you can actually get them on your face.
The tattoo ideas for this came from a fic called "Boy Next Door" by Myoki. It is absolutely fantabulous! (that was lame-the fantabulous thing-, sorry)
Authors Note: I don't really know how to train a horse, though my mom watches (and sometimes I do too) Parelli and Chris Cox and Craig Cameron, so I know a slow approach is important…blah blah blah, but I wrote this how I felt it should be written,
Hope you enjoyed!
Review Please! Or Bakura will come to your house and do um….uh…Something bad! Yeah! If you do though, he will come to your house and bring you cookies! And Ryou! (I'm warning you though, you shouldn't touch his hikari…*shudders*…I remember the last person that did that.)
- run-for-your-life-hikari