do you guys ever see the advertistement for toenail fungus remover? cause it really bothers me. oh yeah, and so far, no one has submitted an analysis of my symbolism. did you think i was kidding? i really wanna know if anybody sees all this little stuff im putting in! seriously! im not looking for an essay or anything, just tell me if youre picking up on it. well, anyways...onward!
Mustang was trying to scrub what remained of the blood off of the desk in the lodging house when the other newsies returned. Dutchy came over to her and hugged her, but she stepped back.
"I need to talk to you." She lead him into her room and placed the door in front of the doorway. He sat on the bed and she sat next to him. "We found Cowgirl." (you thought she was gonna dump him, didn't you? chyeah, right)
"That's great! But...where...oh Mustang." He took her hand and she took her hat off and let a few tears roll down her face.
"A tree fell on her last night. We found her in Central Park, her leg was broken. We had ta go and get one a da bulls, and he ended it." She fell forward and hugged him. He held her, rocking back and forth a little and kissed the top of her head. "I just don't know what ta do. She was everything."
"No, not everything. You've still got us. Me, and Kid Blink, and Jack. All da newsies." She nodded and sat up. Smiling a little, Dutchy took her hat and gently replaced it. "Why don't we go for a walk?" Mustang nodded again. The sun was just touching the tops of the trees as they left the lodging house. They wandered the city in silence until while walking through a back alley, Mustang froze.
"Did you hear that?" He swore she had ears like her horse had.
"Hear what? I-" She held up a hand and cut him off. Slowly, she crept down the alley. She slipped through a broken fence and gasped. Dutchy followed and couldn't help but groan at what he saw. Standing there in full western tack was a brown and white horse. Its reins were caught on the edges of a broken crate and it didn't look as though it could move very well. Around the edges of the small lot, more crates and barrels were stacked, but there were also a good number of them scattered across the ground, apparently knocked there by the frightened horse. Mustang had already climbed over them and was stroking the horse's white nose. It didn't have Cowgirl's enchanting beauty, but it was still a good looking horse.
"Come here and help me get him out." Her voice sounded as though she was in a trance; half whisper. Dutchy couldn't bring himself to argue with her. He climbed over and helped her remove the horse's saddle and breast plate(its the strap thing that helps hold a western saddle in case you dont know). The kept the bridle on after untangling the reins. In the fading light, they cleared a path and lead the horse out of the alley and into the field behind the lodging house. His legs were cut up fairly badly and he would hardly put any weight on his rear left leg. He also looked as though he hadn't eaten a good meal in awhile.
"Don't worry," Mustang whispered, pulling the bridle off so the horse could graze, "I'll take care of you." She sat on the fence with Dutchy, watching the horse graze in the field that was once Cowgirl's. She was fairly certain that with a little bit of cleaning and a whole lot of care, he would become a very pretty horse. He was already very sweet.
"So, what're you gonna call him?"Dutchy asked, placing an arm around her shoulders.
"I dunno yet. Have any ideas?" She lay her head on his shoulder and looked up, half at him, and half at the stars.
"Actually, I did have an idea. It's sorta in a different language though."
"That's a unique excuse: 'Well, i have an idea, but it's not in English...'" They laughed and Dutchy gave her a light punch on the arm. "I don't care, go ahead. What language is it?"
"I actually don't really know. A really long time ago, when I still lived with my parents and my brother, my grandmother stayed with us for awhile. She didn't speak English. I have no idea what she spoke, but I picked up on a little bit of it. Dunno if you'll like it, but I was thinking Dunder." Mustang considered for a moment.
"I like the sound of it. Dunder." The horse didn't look up, but his ears twitched a little as she said it. "I guess he likes it. I do too. What's it mean?"
"Lightning."
tada! oh yeah, and just so you know:you all can stop sending reviews telling me about my endless typos. i know, and i dont care. its how i write. im not spell checking, im not sending it to anyone for editing, nothing. if i do, it takes away the feeling im trying to put in.i dont mean to sound angry, im not. but if youre gonna read my stories, you gota accept my spelling and the random authours notes i stick in.
send in your reviews of my sybolism! if nobody does, im devoting my entire next chapter to it! you have until december 27, sound fair? good.
