We're Dead, No Redemption

Huntin' with Hosea

Warhorse. River Song. Blue. Boudicca 2. The mare's head was spinning with how many names had been use to refer to her. She usually tried to respond to Warhorse, since that's what her established rider usually called her, but it seemed everyone at the camp had their own name for her. Who's horse was she? Who did she really belong to?
Arthur's horse's head spun with these questions as she grazed with the other horses. Silver Dollar had told her not to worry about it, apparently Arthur didn't like naming his horses. Ignore everyone else and just respond to what he calls her. The Count then called the dapple-grey horse a hypocrite since he responds to every name someone gives him and told the mare to ignore the humans unless one goes onto her back.
This provoked a fight between the stallions that Charles had to break up. Taima-the herd's alpha mare-then spent a quarter of an hour ripping into the two about "fighting over a mare".
Needless to say, it didn't really help her predicament.
"I hope not," the rough voice of the mare's rider jarred her from her thoughts. "I like this horse."
"Bring 'er along, if you want to," Silver Dollar's rider said, walking to get his horse from the hitching post.
Arthur's Warhorse greeted her rider with a soft nicker and nosed his jeans for treats. "Hey, pretty girl," he greeted her, rubbing her neck. "Wanna go on an adventure?"
What an adventure was, she had no idea, but it sounded like fun. She blinked at her rider with what she hoped were interested eyes. Arthur smiled at her, rubbed her forehead and set to work taking her saddle off.
A bigger black horse caught her eye. The horse seemed antsy, tossing his head and stamping his big feathered hooves. Arthur stroked the horse's neck gently before tossing the warhorse's saddle on and tightening the cinch. What was he doing?
Arthur drew a rope and walked back over to her, looping it around her neck. "C'mon, girl," he said. "Just gonna sell your friend here, then we'll be on our way."
The mare followed her rider to the stallion, waited patiently as he mounted him, then had to sidestep to avoid being kicked. The Shire stallion was throwing a fit about being stolen and was ready to buck.
"Whoa! Easy, boy!" Arthur stroked the stallion's neck gently, trying to calm him down. The Shire obeyed, just barely.
"Now I'm glad you're the one riding him and not me," Silver Dollar's rider chuckled. Arthur's warhorse threatened the Shire that she would bite him if he didn't calm the fuck down.
The ride to Valentine was otherwise uneventful. The Shire tried kicking out at the warhorse a few times and always got nipped for his trouble. Arthur often leaned back and pet his warhorse if she was close enough, telling her she was a good girl. The mare always grinned internally at the praise.
The mud sucking at the horse's hooves caught the stable owner's attention as the group rode in. "You're back!" He greeted Arthur. "How's the mare handlin'?"
"Pretty well, thank you." The warhorse backed up as her rider slid off the Shire's back. "We, uh..."
"A friend of mind wants me to sell his horse," Silver Dollar's rider spoke up. "He's too old to run a farm now, so he's selling off his stock."
"Mighty fine Shire he had." The stable owner walked over to the stressed-out equine, stroking his neck and checking him over. "Any papers?"
"He didn't give us any." Arthur put his arm over his mare's shoulders as he spoke.
"That's a real shame. I can't pay you full price without 'em."
The stable owner took the Shire's reins and led him inside, Arthur and Silver's rider following. Silver Dollar wandered closer to the warhorse to chat.
'You're awfully close to that man.'
The warhorse would have shrugged if she could. 'He smells nice and has a nice voice. I like him.'
'Still no name?'
'Still no name.'
'Do you want a name?'
The warhorse paused. 'I don't know,' she eventually admitted. 'I don't think I've ever had one. Even my mama didn't name me. Said she'd leave that to the humans.'
'Havin' a name ain't like havin' an identity.' Silver started grooming the blue roan's shoulder, prompting her to return the favour on his neck. 'It's jus' a sign that a human likes ya.'
'You implyin' Arthur don't like me?'
'No! Not at all.' His teeth moved down to the middle of her back. The mare groomed his saddle instead. 'I'm just sayin' it ain't required. Arthur don't like namin' his horses. Says they die on him if he does that.'
The warhorse stopped grooming-partially out of shock, mostly because the saddle tasted yucky. 'Do they?'
'Nah. Jus' human superstition. Arthur likes his horses but past ones didn' like him. They got themselves killed, the stupid beggars. All he did was look after 'em.'
'Sad.'
'Ain't it? I think other than you th' only horse that liked him back was Boudicca.'
'That reminds me.' Silver backed up, letting the mare speak as he bit at an itch on his hind leg. 'Boudicca was named. Why? If he didn't like namin' horses, why'd he name her?'
'He didn't.' Silver paused to cough. 'She came with th' name.'
'Ah.'
The two horses fell into companionable silence after that. Mare and stallion stood head-to-tail, side by side, helping flick flies away from each other as they dozed off waiting for their riders.