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Bones was being particularly difficult this morning, even running her alongside Cree wasn’t enough to settle her. Dravite rode across the plain, keeping The Watch camp in sight as he worked both horses. There was a painful stinging sensation below his right hip where he had been bitten by the Zith. Dravite stopped to fold a wet cloth he had soaked in salt water, over the wound to hold in place under his leather pants and avoid rubbing. Disinfecting cloth in salt water was about as knowledgeable as the man got when it came to medicine and looking after open wounds.
By the time he had finished exercising the horses; Bones had her head down and was snorting at the grass. He led them both to the water in camp and waited for each to drink before untying the rope that tethered one horse to the other. He then led Bones out of camp and back into the tall grass where he stopped to try and get on the unbroken mare. Bones seemed too tired to protest and Dravite put his hands on her back, holding the rope attached to her halter. He jumped away from the ground to throw his weight over the animal’s back and lay there for a time to gauge her temperament.
The mare snorted again and stomped her foot. The horse lord didn’t exactly take this as open invitation, but slowly sat up on the mare’s back before patting her neck, “Good,” he spoke to her in Pavi, “easy.”
He felt the animal flinch beneath him and watched as her ears turned back slowly to listen. The muscles in the mare’s shoulders grew tense and Dravite slowly tightened his hands around the rope, shortening the reins. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth just like he did while training her alongside his Strider, Cree. When that didn’t work, Dravite gave a light squeeze with his legs and clicked again, hoping to get the mare to walk forwards. “Come on,” he encouraged gently, “Good girl.”
The colour-splash mare stomped her foot again and this time swivelled her ears to lay them flat against her neck; this was never a good sign, Dravite knew enough about horses to know that was certain. “Bones?” He said lowly, hoping she wasn’t about to try anything sinister, “Trot on!” The man ordered and clicked again with his tongue, though this time he gave her a little nudge in the side just like he would for Cree, obviously forgetting for a split second which horse he was working with.
The force of the animal launching forward caused Dravite’s legs to tighten like a vice around the mare which did not seem to improve their friendship. Bones leapt forward and gave a powerful buck mid-jump that forced the man forwards, only to be stopped suddenly and tossed back again as her feet met the ground and she propelled herself skyward once more; throwing her weight around like a wild Strider that didn’t want to be ridden. Dravite roared at the mare and kicked her forward, hoping she might attempt to gallop away with him which would be the preferred choice to all this bucking.
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59 Summer, 515 AV
8th Bell, Morning
The Sea of Grass
8th Bell, Morning
The Sea of Grass
Bones was being particularly difficult this morning, even running her alongside Cree wasn’t enough to settle her. Dravite rode across the plain, keeping The Watch camp in sight as he worked both horses. There was a painful stinging sensation below his right hip where he had been bitten by the Zith. Dravite stopped to fold a wet cloth he had soaked in salt water, over the wound to hold in place under his leather pants and avoid rubbing. Disinfecting cloth in salt water was about as knowledgeable as the man got when it came to medicine and looking after open wounds.
By the time he had finished exercising the horses; Bones had her head down and was snorting at the grass. He led them both to the water in camp and waited for each to drink before untying the rope that tethered one horse to the other. He then led Bones out of camp and back into the tall grass where he stopped to try and get on the unbroken mare. Bones seemed too tired to protest and Dravite put his hands on her back, holding the rope attached to her halter. He jumped away from the ground to throw his weight over the animal’s back and lay there for a time to gauge her temperament.
The mare snorted again and stomped her foot. The horse lord didn’t exactly take this as open invitation, but slowly sat up on the mare’s back before patting her neck, “Good,” he spoke to her in Pavi, “easy.”
He felt the animal flinch beneath him and watched as her ears turned back slowly to listen. The muscles in the mare’s shoulders grew tense and Dravite slowly tightened his hands around the rope, shortening the reins. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth just like he did while training her alongside his Strider, Cree. When that didn’t work, Dravite gave a light squeeze with his legs and clicked again, hoping to get the mare to walk forwards. “Come on,” he encouraged gently, “Good girl.”
The colour-splash mare stomped her foot again and this time swivelled her ears to lay them flat against her neck; this was never a good sign, Dravite knew enough about horses to know that was certain. “Bones?” He said lowly, hoping she wasn’t about to try anything sinister, “Trot on!” The man ordered and clicked again with his tongue, though this time he gave her a little nudge in the side just like he would for Cree, obviously forgetting for a split second which horse he was working with.
The force of the animal launching forward caused Dravite’s legs to tighten like a vice around the mare which did not seem to improve their friendship. Bones leapt forward and gave a powerful buck mid-jump that forced the man forwards, only to be stopped suddenly and tossed back again as her feet met the ground and she propelled herself skyward once more; throwing her weight around like a wild Strider that didn’t want to be ridden. Dravite roared at the mare and kicked her forward, hoping she might attempt to gallop away with him which would be the preferred choice to all this bucking.
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