Chapter Three: Lead Mare
The herd I found was not what I expected, the group of at least 7 mares, none of which looked particularly healthy, but most obvious was that it was a mare, not a stallion that strode out to meet me. The mare was a pale, creamy dun, small and sturdy, she was very pretty, even with her ears set flat and teeth bared. She seemed set on ripping my throat out but I, having no intention of fighting a mare, scampered back from her, only sending a half-hearted warning kick in her direction. I caught wind of the stallion and trumpeted to him, wanting a challenge, not a cranky, defensive mare.
The stallion looked up and I knew instantly something was wrong, his ribs were painfully obvious and he lumbered towards us with a shambling walk, overstepping, as if he felt the extra effort of swinging his long legs out was easier than simply breaking into trot. His eyes were dull and he sniffed me before catching on to my intent and dropping his head in a snake. I smelt from him, a terrible rotting scent, as he opened his mouth to threaten a bite, I saw the cause, his right cheek was swollen and oozing with a thick white paste. I drew back cautiously, it was not the hard winter that was killing this stallion.
The stallion could barely left himself up to kick or rear, and he knew and well as I, he had no chance against me, but his pride would not let him leave his mares without a fight. He ducked past me, to deliver a bite, but his rotting mouth barely had the strength to break my skin and I spun, kicking out and striking him in the jaw. The stallion shot back, eyes rolling, his pain must have been immense but he wasn't about to give me an easy win. He was dying, backed into a corner and had nothing to lose.
With obvious effort he reared up in retaliation, and I easily lifted myself up to meet his challenge, our failing hooves scraped shoulders and my head instinctively snaked forward, teeth hitting their mark, and digging into his neck. As we came down, he backed away, tossing his head a few times. I paused, unsure how to respond to the stallion, either to try and chase him off or wait for him to move to attack again. But the stallion had lost the fight the moment I had appeared to challenge him and did not advance again, just dipped his head. I was confused by his body language then, but it was a look I would become all too familiar with later on. This was a horse that had given up on life.
I turned around, back to the mares, and after a brief introduction, rounded them up, leaving the stallion who was for most of them a father or a mate behind. I paused once to look behind, but the stallion did not move or look after his soon to disappear herd. If he was lucky, a cougar would make short work of him, less lucky, a wolf pack would tear him apart. To me, back then, there was no fate that was worse. I had seen so little of the world.
I quickly forgot about the stallion, as my new herd kept me busy. I quickly moved them away from the direction I knew my old bachelor herd was in, not wanting to risk a challenge with another stallion so soon after victory. Most of the mares where friendly and accepting of me, they weren't too bothered by having a new stallion in their midst, the affairs of stallions wasn't of great interest to them. It was the creamy dun mare they listened too, it was her job to make sure they all survived, unfortunately for me. The lead mare did not fancy me, and every time I approached her, she would attack me with bared teeth and sharply aimed kicks.
Despite the creamy dun's dislike of me, I soon came to appreciate her wisdom and ability to keep the herd in check. I had never before seen a mare so ruthlessly dominant, but she was smart and knew all the best places to graze and find water. On the edge of the herd, the watchers, the skittish mares kept a constant eye out for danger, and the safety their attentiveness brought was calming, my only concern was coming across a lone stallion. If I heard the watchers call out, I would head out to check a threat and if I saw one, would head the herd off, away from it.
It was fortunate for me, the pale dun mare did not argue when I tried to head the herd off, simply pulling herself up in the lead, she would allow me to bring up and protect the herd from behind. When spring started to settle back into summer, she warmed up enough to allow me to approach her, I was pleased by her acceptance of me, it felt like I had finally be integrated into the herd. The mares around me were now mine, and I would fight to protect them.
It wasn't long after the pale dun started to warm to me that my first hint of trouble started. The mare had been grazing peacefully when she suddenly jerked her head up and tensed. I and all the nearby horses were instantly on alert. I glanced over at the watchers and saw they too, were tense but not why. The pale dun offered me a low nicker which the other mares took up, crowding together to get closer to their leader, the lead mare backed out of the frenzy and struck out, the others quickly stretching out behind, and I brought up the rear. I did not know why we were running, only that it was deliberate and trusted that the pale dun knew what she was doing.
The pale dun mare brought the herd to a barren canyon and I was confused as to why she would lead us here. I hung back watchfully, the mares were tense enough that they did not need my encouragement to stay together and I was all too aware that at the back of the herd like this, there was no one to watch my own back. The rocky cliff faces began to tower above us, and the path we were taking narrowed, a let the mares know that nothing was chasing us so they would relax and not scrape each other up on the rocky walls as they scrambled along the narrow path. When the path widened out enough for the herd to stand side by side again, I stopped to investigate the place.
The pale dun had led us to what could only be considered as a dead end, enclosed on three sides by massive rocks walls that only the likes of a nimble goat could hope to scale, but not us horses. It was, too say the least, very sheltered, but the weather had not been harsh as of late and the sky was currently clear, so that could not be the reason for the dun mare to lead us here. I surveyed the herd, seeing their tension and could tell they were all highly uncomfortable with the enclosed space, but the dun mare stood firm, head titled up in an attempt to watch the sky. Some members of the herd suddenly made a break for the narrow path out, and the mare proved her watchfulness by lunging across to chase them back into line. I left the lead mare to remind the herd of her own dominance and keep a watchful vigil, trying to work out what is was that had disturbed her and caused her to lead us here.
If this was set back in Spirit's time, the herd would have just taken themselves to the perfect place to be captured. However, after some debate, I've decided this is set several years after Spirit's story took place.