pascal's law

Salvia Eternity · 01-03-2012, 04:45 PM

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Salsola, Borgata Mazatl

tl;dr Salvia captures and pony and brings it back to the barn.

Though her father’s return from Freetown brought with it a new horse, it also presented a new challenge. Both the white mare and Horse would likely be used for breeding, thus limiting their use as pack animals. Already, it was apparent that the palomino was carrying; she was not yet to the point of required rest, but her father had been strict when it came to such things and Salvia would not allow the prized animal to be pushed. After producing a colt like Nacht, she was anxiously waiting to see what the offspring of Black would resemble. In truth, she was anxious for all the mares to drop—the others had not yet started showing but oh they would soon, she was sure of it. A moon cycle might pass, but there was little doubt in her mind that Black had begun his legacy with all of the available mares. In a way, she felt sorry her own yearling could not be used for such breeding. He was too large, too dark for the ideal that Sirius and her father sought.

Selective breeding, as she had begun to understand it, was the process for which the ideal animal could be made. By choosing characteristics and conformations of sire a dam, offspring were more likely to be close to the ideal outcome. In her scientific, calculating mind Salvia saw the major advantage in such decisions. It ensured, to a degree, that one would be able to forge a living being whose specifications matched with a specific goal. The staggering notion of such a thing was not lost on her. If they could manipulate horses in such a manner, why not other things? Why not choose mates based on such ideals rather than love, for love was weak and worthless and something that did no good when it came to ensuring strength. This, she saw now, was the true path. One day if she sought to extend her bloodline, she would chose a man not for her love of him, but for his physical prowess. A carnal and primeval thing it was, but so too was all science when faced with instinct and base ideas.

Thus captivated by the small flickering of light that even now sought to vanquish the demons of magic with reason, Salvia had set forth with a specific goal in mind. She would find an animal capable of filling the gap of the draft horses when the time came. While she truly might have sought after an ox or a bull-cow, she was unfamiliar even now with their true potential and found the animals stupid looking and doubted one would be roaming these lands freely. Horses were more common; they had once been wild things, after all, and since adapted to the wilderness that once belonged to men. Most of these wild things had since been claimed or captured by wolves, but there were always those who escaped, those who were overlooked. Capturing an animal was not as easy as one might think.

The truth of the matter was, of course, that Salvia was overconfident. She had only every captured one living animal, and that had been a newborn fawn that had been too stupid to flee when the wolf found her. A living, experienced horse would be a new challenge all together. Of course, she had constructed a very basic plan within her mind that was almost certain to work. It relied heavily on the instincts of the creatures she sought, and her own speed and strength.

She had taken Misty once more, pleased with her overall progress. Though a saddle was still required to ride her, the stench of horse (and the weeds that washed away the wolfish scent of Salsola) were enough to put her plan into action. This was a simple thing; she would find a herd of the animals and, believing that the horses would not flee so quickly from one of their own, would get as close as possible before lassoing one. This too, was a base thing—she was nowhere as experienced as the dog, but she had imitated him with rope and managed to understand the mechanics behind such a thing. Her main advantage in doing this was the horse—Misty was terribly fast, even faster than Black, and fearless. If she could get close enough to drop a loop around a horses’ head, she could drag them back to Salsola and break them there. Like her slave, this would be a matter of physical dominance and patience. After all, was TK not ideal now? Salvia thought so. She was quite pleased with the woman and hoped her brother’s return would be when she was best to be presented. What a sight that would be, she thought, two coal-black beasts like themselves. There was no jealousy for the woman; had she been free-people, Salvia would never have allowed such a thing. Slaves were property, though, and this alone; Pandemic would own a woman to match his horse, in her eyes, and this suited him. Her brother deserved the best.

They both did, she thought with a thin smile. While she felt terrible animosity towards her sisters, the new boy was nothing less than perfect in her eyes. He was the culmination of her father’s dream, and unlike Wretch’s patchy, disgusting pelt, he was pristine and flawless. Salvia was looking forward to the day he was able to walk, for she would see to his training personally. No brother of her’s would be a weak, soft thing—she would not allow it. Especially given that he shared the Eternity name; one she alone carried now that Solanaceae was dead. If she or her brother perished, so would the name. It could not be allowed until immortality had been reached.

Below her, Misty snorted and breathed steam into the frigid air. It was snowing, but this was of no concern to Salvia. With her winter pelt she was immune to such things. She preferred the snow anyway. It would muffle both sound and scent from the animals, and allow her near invisibility. Horses were not blind animals and actually had decent eyesight, but in the snow, she would not be so easily spotted. Especially given its condition; light and airy, not heavy and wet but still thick enough to disguise her pale pelt against the landscape (and Misty, who was likely far more interesting to these horses).

She rode for nearly two hours before they first found the herd. It was small. No mare challenged the approaching horse and so Salvia concluded this was a bachelor herd. The stallions milled about, yet unconcerned by Misty. Saliva slipped the rope into her hand, looping its furthest length about her arm. A circular slip was given wide area to hang by Misty’s side, and Salvia urged her forward with a squeeze of the legs. Once the males noticed her, they began to prance nervously. It was only their instinctive desire to claim a mate that otherwise kept them from fleeing, and two advanced towards the horse and rider cautiously.

A gust of wind betrayed the wolf, fluttering the rope. This strange thing startled the horses who took off running. She cursed and spurred Misty after them, knowing that if they were lost she would need to wait and bring another horse. The speed of the mare was exhilarating, and despite the herd’s advantage, they quickly closed the gap.

While the prime and fastest horses had managed to contend with them, one fluffy male smaller than the rest was losing ground. Salvia did not have time to judge him beyond the stockiness of his build and the shape of his head before settling. Even if he wasn’t perfect he was a horse—and she needed one strong enough to work, or at least one to be traded for a beast that was capable of such a thing. With a snarl she kicked at Misty and closed the distance, hurling the loop wide and missing. The stallion whinnied in fright and wheeled, but Misty was atop of him yet. She was responding to Salvia’s body, which leaned into the turn and once more hurled the rope. This time it slipped over his head. With a triumphant cry, the girl yanked it taught. They ran yet as she hurried to knot the end to Misty’s saddle horn. It slipped once, panicking her, but the rope had been looped around her own arm for just such a reason.

Satisfied by the knot, she grabbed Misty’s reins and pulled her back, using her momentum to turn the pony. He fought, and Salvia was startled by the strength of such a small beast. She yanked along with the horse and finally made the fuzzy thing turn. While he did not like the rope around his neck, he did not seem to wish to fight the mare. Twin instincts took him; one was to flee, and this was powerful, but the herd mentality told him that the mare was not dangerous to him and to go with her. Salvia was glad for this, and gave him enough slack to calm the fuzzy thing.

Exhausted from the run (for he was underweight despite the fluffy pelt) the pony followed after the mare with fewer struggles. The ride back was not a long one, though to Salvia it felt like an eternity. She wanted to get him to the post so that her father could aid her in investigating the animal. She sorely hoped that her estimation was not wrong; the little pony had a great amount of strength despite his size, and Salvia was pleased with this. Perhaps once she could feel his body the truth of the matter would become clear.

She, Misty, and the pony arrived at the barn only to find it empty. With a huff, she dismounted and led Misty to the hitch. While the two animals stood there, she slipped into the barn to procure an extra halter and a bundle of dried grass. After approaching the two horses, she reassured them with low sounds and spread the meal before them, all the while keeping her eyes on the stony little hooves of her newest captive. As he ate, she knelt and gingerly tried touching him. While he shied from her at first, she remained still and did what came naturally—capturing him with her eyes. It was an old dog trick for sheep, but the pony seemed to respond as well. With the mare at his side and food near the blonde wolf, he surrendered to hunger and the lack of aggression present in the air, finally allowing Salvia to touch him.

Pleased by this, she worked quickly to slip on the woven halter. It tied under the jaw and behind the ears, and to this new contraption she affixed a rope and secured her catch to the post. The lasso around his neck was removed and wound back up. She kept this on Misty’s saddle horn, and went about removing the mare’s tack. While it would have been more comfortable for both horses inside, the mass of trees prevented much snow or wind from assaulting them. Salvia carried the saddle and blanket back inside, settled it onto its post, and lifted another bushel of dried grass. If she managed to convince the pony she was the provider, breaking him would be easy. It would take a long time, as it had with TK, but she was reassured by the progress of such an event and would use it to further her aims here. Even though Larkspur was not present, Salvia elected to wait, and sat in the snow near the two animals.

With his coat covered in snow, she had not really seen the way his markings played out. While a dull reddish-brown, his nose was light and flecks of white that were not snow dappled his body. The pony had dark legs and a dark mane and tail. His build was strong and thickly furred, meaning he was well prepared for the weather. While heavily feathered, his hooves were dainty and made for rocky terrain like Salsola. The blonde girl smiled to herself. She had done well.

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