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Post by Admin = kAGE on Apr 10, 2010 8:24:15 GMT -5
Rosalie
It was bad enough that i was stuck here in filth enough to make even the most disgusting of horses wince, but to make matters worse, the colt who was being loaded behind me was making me a nervous wreck.While the humans heard nothing but squeals and grunts, I could hear every word the young male was uttering. Killers! Strip us of our flesh and feed us to dogs?! My mother warned me, said the two-leggeds couldn't be trusted!... I had to pin my ears to block out his angary, terrified screams, but I couldn't stop the whites of my eyes from flashing dangerously as my eyes rolled back into my skull.And the cherry on top you might ask? Well, that would be the fact that my back was turned to the colt and his workers, and the confines of the stall were so small, I could only swing my head over my shoulder to watch, which I didn't. The banging of hooves, the flustered grunts of men, gods when would it all end? "Excuse me. Could you get the paint mare out for me? I'm quite interested," For the first time since I'd been there, I dared to turn, my head almost snapping over my shoulder, at the one voice that did not belong, and either did the body attatched to it.
Just outside my stall, peering in at me, was a girl. My harks, one pinned flat against my skull, suddenly flicked in her direction, as if willing her to speak once more.I was contemplating weather a nicker would be appropriate or not when the men who'd been working on getting the colt into his stall aproached my door."This pretty girl here?" He glanced into the stall, and I had to stifle the urge to kick at the door and send them scattering. I wasn't naturally hostile, but this siuation was taking more out of me than I cared for.
It was the more official looking of the bunch that slid the door open, and for a long moment I remained still, torn between rushing for freedom and terrified into standing where I was.What if they lead me someone worse? It was with a worried nicker that I took a slow step backward, and just as I did so a very skinny, bristly man pushed his way into the stall beside me, in his hand a very short lead rope.I stiffened imidiatly when he came into contact with me, and my ears flicked back as the obvious uncomfortable feelings gripped me once more." Get going girl." The skinny man put a firm hand on my chest and began to push, and it was more out of disgust for his grimy fingers that I complied.
As my body became free of the cramped stall, I took advantage of the situation and stretched out the few limbs that had been cramped, like my neck and legs, by shifting from side to side and lifting my head to it's full height. Being out int he open like this was both comforting and nerve wracking.From every angle you could smell the impending death, could here the sighs of those who's hope was gone, could feel the vibrations from horses throwing themselves against the stalls.They all knew too well. I snorted nervously as the official looking man suddenly began to lead me a few paces down the corridor before turning to make a circle and head back towards the girl. " As you can see-" I squeeled softly at the boom to the larger mans voice, coming to a sharp halt and letting my eyes roll slightly. The man cast a glare at me, for my interuption more than likley, before continuing. "As you can see she has fine movement and health, perfectly sound. She was dropped off this morning for her temperment. She unnerves pretty easily and has thrown a few riders, the man seamed to think she was just as spoiled as she was jumpy..." He ended those words with a laugh, and I couldn't help but glare at him. I wasn't spoiled, I just liked things to go my when when I wanted it."On the plus side she has a jumping history, 2 golds and a silver."
I came to a halt before the girl, head bobbing slightly as I dared to let my nares flare and catch her scent. She smelled good, far better than this place and it's unending stench. I couldn't imagine one inch of this deathly building that could possibly have a hint of goodness to it.This girl was the softest thing i'd seen all day, and I was content to hide behind her, despite the buisness attire that gave her a bit of an agressive edge.
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Ayla
New Member
Posts: 9
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Post by Ayla on Apr 10, 2010 17:23:48 GMT -5
  Jackie didn't frequent the slaughterhouse, but when she did come, it was always in business attire. She found that when you looked like you could shut down an operation, you were treated very well. She had come in a borrowed silver pickup truck with a shiny two-horse trailer hitched to the back, fully intending to come home with a decent prospect. Nothing special, perhaps, but a horse she could train and sell for considerably more than its purchase price.
Jackie stepped out of the truck and crinkled her nose at the everlasting smell of blood, rust, and ammonia. No matter how hard a facility like this one tried to be proper, that smell would always linger. At least the people-door led to a plain reception room, instead of a gory killing room. Jackie's running shoes squeaked on the concrete floor as she walked the few feet to the desk. "I'd like to see the horses, please," she said to the older man sitting at the desk. He grunted and waved her through the door before going back to playing Minesweeper.
The smell was worse here; the stalls obviously hadn't been cleaned in some time. There wasn't much need. The horses here were sentenced to death, and who cared about the condition of their feet? Jackie stared down the aisle of wooden stalls. A variety of squeals and screams filled her ears. The horses knew what was happening here, knew what was taking place on the other side of the door.
The woman kept her head high as she peered into each stall. It pained her to pass up so many horses destined for a cruel and difficult death, but such was the way of things. Any horse owner would think the same, but very few had the ability to save more than one or two. There were very few good prospects here, although that may be due to the end of winter, when horse owners pulled the blankets off their senior horses and found they were wasting away. Or, even worse, that money could not be found to sustain the horses for a month or two before summer came, and with it, fresh grass.
Jackie shuddered and moved on down the line, offering a scratch to a very old chestnut mare who looked as if the staff might not even have to kill her. She was approaching the stalls for the newcomers, the horses that had been there only hours or minutes, those who might not know their fate. The staff was struggling with a yearling colt with horrible manners, trying to get him into a stall. Good for you, buddy, she said to herself, even her thoughts infiltrated with the grim tone of the building. Across from the squealing colt, there was a flashy Paint mare kicking the walls of the stall.
This horse has 7 days to be claimed, asking price is $500.Her name is Rosalie, age 4, gender mare, breed paint X quarterhorse, height 16.1 hands.
Jackie read the sign quickly and leaned in to check out the mare's condition. She wondered why this pretty thing stood on death row. Clearly it was not for being too skinny; she was in good condition, with decent muscle mass, and didn't appear very violent.
With a clang, the stall holding the colt slammed shut and a collective sigh came from the men who had just succeeded in shoving the little one into a box. Jackie turned toward the most official-looking of the bunch. "Excuse me. Could you get the paint mare out for me? I'm quite interested," she said, keeping a look of cool confidence on her face.
------------------- [/size] tagged ! closed
word count ! six hundred six
outfit ! click!
notes ! she seems really cool =)
lyrics ! uprising by muse
listening to ! oh, it is love by hellogoodbye |
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Post by Admin = kAGE on Apr 11, 2010 10:29:23 GMT -5
Rosalie
It was bad enough that i was stuck here in filth enough to make even the most disgusting of horses wince, but to make matters worse, the colt who was being loaded behind me was making me a nervous wreck.While the humans heard nothing but squeals and grunts, I could hear every word the young male was uttering. Killers! Strip us of our flesh and feed us to dogs?! My mother warned me, said the two-leggeds couldn't be trusted!... I had to pin my ears to block out his angary, terrified screams, but I couldn't stop the whites of my eyes from flashing dangerously as my eyes rolled back into my skull.And the cherry on top you might ask? Well, that would be the fact that my back was turned to the colt and his workers, and the confines of the stall were so small, I could only swing my head over my shoulder to watch, which I didn't. The banging of hooves, the flustered grunts of men, gods when would it all end? "Excuse me. Could you get the paint mare out for me? I'm quite interested," For the first time since I'd been there, I dared to turn, my head almost snapping over my shoulder, at the one voice that did not belong, and either did the body attatched to it.
Just outside my stall, peering in at me, was a girl. My harks, one pinned flat against my skull, suddenly flicked in her direction, as if willing her to speak once more.I was contemplating weather a nicker would be appropriate or not when the men who'd been working on getting the colt into his stall aproached my door."This pretty girl here?" He glanced into the stall, and I had to stifle the urge to kick at the door and send them scattering. I wasn't naturally hostile, but this siuation was taking more out of me than I cared for.
It was the more official looking of the bunch that slid the door open, and for a long moment I remained still, torn between rushing for freedom and terrified into standing where I was.What if they lead me someone worse? It was with a worried nicker that I took a slow step backward, and just as I did so a very skinny, bristly man pushed his way into the stall beside me, in his hand a very short lead rope.I stiffened imidiatly when he came into contact with me, and my ears flicked back as the obvious uncomfortable feelings gripped me once more." Get going girl." The skinny man put a firm hand on my chest and began to push, and it was more out of disgust for his grimy fingers that I complied.
As my body became free of the cramped stall, I took advantage of the situation and stretched out the few limbs that had been cramped, like my neck and legs, by shifting from side to side and lifting my head to it's full height. Being out int he open like this was both comforting and nerve wracking.From every angle you could smell the impending death, could here the sighs of those who's hope was gone, could feel the vibrations from horses throwing themselves against the stalls.They all knew too well. I snorted nervously as the official looking man suddenly began to lead me a few paces down the corridor before turning to make a circle and head back towards the girl. " As you can see-" I squeeled softly at the boom to the larger mans voice, coming to a sharp halt and letting my eyes roll slightly. The man cast a glare at me, for my interuption more than likley, before continuing. "As you can see she has fine movement and health, perfectly sound. She was dropped off this morning for her temperment. She unnerves pretty easily and has thrown a few riders, the man seamed to think she was just as spoiled as she was jumpy..." He ended those words with a laugh, and I couldn't help but glare at him. I wasn't spoiled, I just liked things to go my when when I wanted it."On the plus side she has a jumping history, 2 golds and a silver."
I came to a halt before the girl, head bobbing slightly as I dared to let my nares flare and catch her scent. She smelled good, far better than this place and it's unending stench. I couldn't imagine one inch of this deathly building that could possibly have a hint of goodness to it.This girl was the softest thing i'd seen all day, and I was content to hide behind her, despite the buisness attire that gave her a bit of an agressive edge.
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Ayla
New Member
Posts: 9
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Post by Ayla on Apr 11, 2010 16:58:44 GMT -5
Jackie's mouth pulled into a grimace at the man's harsh treatment of Rosalie. In stalls that small, could the horses really be expected to be respectful of personal space? Of course, there was a line between a deliberate invasion and the simple concept of a small space. It seemed the mare was reacting well, though, and Jackie gave her a bonus point for just that. Clearly, she wasn't an aggressive horse, or else the man would have more than a few bleeding injuries.
In any case, the man presented Rosalie to her with no apparent difficulty; no shanking, no further smacking, and no bad behavior on the mare's part. Jackie positioned herself directly behind the mare's hindquarters and bent down slightly to check her striding and overall soundness. Her experience in the jumper ring had given her the ability to detect the smallest trace of lameness, and it seemed that the paint mare had none, for which she was thankful. A fine horse, she knew, even before the man informed her of the same.
Rosalie was flashy, and that was perhaps the first thing Jackie noticed. It was hard not to; a chestnut paint with a bald face was pretty noticeable. Jackie didn't see any trace of soreness, although she was sure the mare would need a few days to adjust again to the large stalls of the boarding stables. Even if she had only been here a few hours, the tight squeeze of the stalls, especially for a horse her size, was devastating.
Her conformation was very nice, at least for a stock horse. Rosalie seemed suited to jumping, perhaps some dressage. She lacked the uphill build of the warmbloods, but her legs were well-made. Probably better suited to the childrens' hunters or low level jumpers, depending on her temperament, than regular working hunters or anything above level 3 jumpers. If she turned out to have the typical disposition of a quarter horse, that is, quiet and steady, Jackie could probably fetch a pretty penny for her as a very flashy children's hunter. But if the reason she was dropped off was because her previous owners couldn't handle her, then the jumper ring would probably be a better choice.
"As you can see she has fine movement and health, perfectly sound. She was dropped off this morning for her temperment. She unnerves pretty easily and has thrown a few riders, the man seamed to think she was just as spoiled as she was jumpy... On the plus side she has a jumping history, 2 golds and a silver," he said. Jackie's decision was made even before he had mentioned a competition history. Her temperament was not a problem; if being spooky and spoiled were the only issues, Jackie wouldn't have a problem. If, however, someone was being deceitful and hiding a problem like aggression with tranquilizers, that would be slightly more of a problem. The man could only know what Rosalie's previous owners had said, and although Jackie trusted the slaughterhouse worker, she couldn't be sure about whoever dropped the mare off.
"Five hundred dollars? Who do I make the check out to?" she said, already pulling a small leather case out of her pocket. A black pen soon followed, and as Jackie made the check out, she had one more question. "Do you mind helping me load her?" Now, all that was left was a Pay To The Order Of and a (hopefully) easy loading.
When Jackie got her response, she scrawled out the name on the check, tore it off, and handed it over, trading the lead rope for the exponentially more valuable scrap of paper. The rope was short; too short to tie off a horse in a trailer, let alone for regular work. Jackie preferred something she could coil up and grip, not this discarded piece of line. Besides, the end was frayed and worn, and would surely be falling apart if not for the overhand knot tied at the end. You would think even these people would know how to tie a better knot... she thought. While waiting for the man to move, Jackie picked at the knot, trying to get the fibers to pull apart.
------------------- [/size] tagged ! closed
word count ! seven hundred
outfit ! click!
notes ! ...
lyrics ! uprising by muse
listening to ! runaway by cartel |
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Post by Admin = kAGE on Apr 11, 2010 18:32:24 GMT -5
Rosalie
Rosalie shifted anxiously as the humans around her conversed.Despite the calm radiating off of them, the rest of the stable was alive with the bustling of equines, and it was hard for Rosalie to ignore thier voices.She wasn't completely aware why this girl was looking at her, or why the other horses had not be taken out like her.She had a feeling however that this was a good sign, that the official looking girl was not part of this death houses trechorous scheme. After a few more moments of conversing, the chestnut paints lead was handed of to the girl.At this the four year olds ears perked, and her gaze fell hopefully on the human females face, a soft nicker rumbling through her throat as she pushed her face closer to the girl who was toying with the frayed edges of her pitiful lead rope.When she realized the girl had not noticed her, she made an effort to press her nose firmly against the girls forehead before lipping at her hair, as if to say, are we going yet?
It was the official looking man who stepped up to help her load the horse on to the trailer, and as he stepped up alongside the mare, she twitched anxiously, shifting away from the man as he placed a large, chubby hand against her shoulder."You plan on making her a competitor? I was a little sad to see such a nice looking gal brought in here."
[/i] It apeared the large man did have a sympathy for equines, he simple had no manners around them, quite an inconvenience for someone who was around them daily, but of course if they were going to die, who cared about maintenance? [/size][/color][/blockquote] |
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Ayla
New Member
Posts: 9
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Post by Ayla on Apr 12, 2010 18:33:48 GMT -5
Jackie giggled softly as Rosalie pushed her muzzle against her forehead. It seemed the mare was glad to be rescued, and even more glad that she had personal attention. She might be a bit of a handful if her behavior was like this all the time, but Jackie had no problem with the impromptu display of affection. "Easy, we'll be home soon," she whispered to the mare. And you'll get a nice big stall with good hay and clean shavings and fresh water. Pretty much the opposite of this place. With that, Jackie led her newly-purchased mare out the door to the outside world.
The sun was blinding compared to the dim light inside the slaughterhouse. Jackie squinted against the glare and walked toward her trailer, which was reflecting the light right into her eyes. Great. "You plan on making her a competitor? I was a little sad to see such a nice looking gal brought in here." Jackie was a little surprised by the apparent concern this man had for the horses. Working at a slaughterhouse, Jackie didn't think it was possible; if he got this attached to any horse, he wouldn't have a job for long.
"Yeah, I plan to get her kid-safe and put a junior on her for Children's Jumper, maybe equitation, too," Jackie said. She handed the scrap of a lead rope back to the man for a moment and climbed into the trailer's tack room. For a minute, she rooted through the buckets and assorted horsey items for a lead rope that wasn't broken, was long enough, and wasn't too thin. Eventually, she found a black one, and a dressage whip, and resurfaced outside. Jackie switched out the leads with practiced motions, then handed both the whip and the short lead back to the man.
"Unless you know how she loads, could you stand to the side? I'm going to see if she'll get on without fighting," Jackie explained. If the mare really had a competition record, she would at least not be terrified of the trailer - hopefully.
------------------- [/size] tagged ! closed
word count ! word count
outfit ! click!
notes ! ...
lyrics ! uprising by muse
listening to ! string quarter no. 14 in A flat major, b. 192, op. 105 by antonin dvorak |
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