The heartbeat of hooves

Wayne McCoy · 02-29-2012, 08:48 PM

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I'm sorry for the wait! Got carried away with length too, haha. +5

All of the animals seemed to sense that spring was returning. He could hear robins and sparrows and other songbirds, some of the first to arrive back in Nova Scotia from their wintering grounds, twittering their songs. The scent of elk permeated the cool air from the woodlands surrounding the fort, among other prey animals that would drop young’uns soon. Even though the entire world was dusted with white, the sunlight warmed his dusty-colored coat just enough for the day to be enjoyable.

The horses, especially, could feel the season changing. Even bad-tempered Maia was frisky as a filly; she had been playing with Gypsy in the snowy field, both mares heedless of their slowly swelling bellies. The others had been likewise playful and happy, vocalizing their delight with loud whinnies as they galloped around each other or galloped just for the feel of the earth moving under their thundering hooves.

Wayne had laughed and watched them for what seemed like hours until they chased each other out of sight. He was excited for the spring foals despite the extra work he would have to do; work was, after all, a regular part of his life. It was easier now that he was so passionate about his duty and the pack, and he had Hadley to help him out every once in a while. There was still a barrier between him and the former slave, but at least the other wolfdog was more himself and good-humored when around the magnificent beasts. It heartened the Labrador cross to see such interaction.

Eventually, he supposed he ought to do some sort of work, and so he coaxed the growing chestnut colt and his mother to him. The male had been slowly breaking Bark to saddle even though it would be years before he was ready to be ridden—especially by one as big-boned as the cowboy. Luckily, it seemed that the colt had inherited his mother’s large size, and so once he was fully grown, he’d have no trouble carrying the mostly large members of the warrior pack.

He put the small saddle on Bark, cinching it so that it wouldn’t slip around, and watched with amusement as the colt whirled around to investigate the pressure on his back. The blankets and pads he’d borne before hadn’t been this heavy or secured to him, so he was a little confused—but he didn’t kick or fuss, only stared at the cowboy as he mounted Fern without reins or saddle.

The child snorted as if to say it wasn’t fair, and Wayne laughed as he patted the chestnut mare’s neck. Dixie-May had already been working to get the animals used to leg cues to free up the hands in the case the rider needed to fight. Though the mongrel didn’t think he would get used to a weapon, he had no problem teaching the equines under his care. With a click of his tongue and a tap of his heels, he urged Fern forward at an easy walk; Bark hopped after them, seemingly forgetting about the saddle.

The trio trotted into town, hooves falling loudly upon the broken pavement. It would be quite a feat to get Fern agile enough to get around the clustered shops, but Wayne took it slow, using the pressure from his legs to turn her and praising her regularly. Bark cantered after them before disappearing around one building suddenly, and when the dog hybrid’s bark didn’t call him back, he sighed and turned Fern around again.

The chestnut colt had skipped right up to a daydreaming white she-wolf, and Wayne laughed as Bark whinnied in shrill greeting. He slipped easily from Fern’s back and left the mare to collect her son with a nicker, his brown eyes falling on the female. He recognized her as Jazper’s daughter Fia—the newly married one. Thoughts of mateship fled quickly from his mind as he gave a shake of his head then grinned at the girl.

Howdy, Wayne said customarily.

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