The doors on this ranch house bother me, as does everything about this house. I have never lived in a home which I did not build myself. Aristides walks in beside me, licking me occasionally to console me from my sour mood. I always must spend long hours amongst my dear ones after consulting with humans. Humans are unutterably stupid and such a waste of precious time that I could spend doing, well, anything else at all. I rub my chin on Aristides' neck, and he grumbles in pleasure, cuddling close to me and breathing in my scent happily. My dear ones do not like for me to be away so long, and stallions especially treasure mutual society, grooming and also sniffing everything. Aristides is telling me how happy he is that I am home, and how they all missed me. I tell him how much I missed them, and we walk into the living room and sit down. I must mull over what I have seen and heard today. Would it be best to expose ourselves to the world? Would that save my dear ones from danger?
I consider this long and hard. From all I have seen today, the value of horsemanship is not high. Even were I to astound the world with my talent, would it even be enough? There will always be the horse proud, but there may not always be those who simply admire a beautiful thing for it's beauty. If there are too few of these, perhaps Jimmy Pony Boy is wrong. And what does he know, anyway? Can I not, indeed hide forever? I am Hyn Horseman, as he called me. I have hidden for centuries, and shown myself only when it pleased me. I can continue to do so easily. There are many nooks and crannies in this world that are too obscure to settle, in the opinion of these soft creatures who live only for today.
As I argue this to myself, Aristides noses me. It means he thinks I am becoming too self-absorbed. Horses are wise, and they are seldom wrong when they point out one's character flaws.
If I can indeed hide forever if I so choose, then it is true also that I can show my horses to the world and then disappear if it becomes too dangerous. It isn't as though I haven't done this before, though on a much smaller scale.
Aristides grunts and contentedly rubs his ear on my knee. Lovingly I stroke his silky neck. There is nothing in this life that can even begin to compare to this mutual fondness of man and horse. I would do anything to protect them from anxiety or harm, even if it means catering to stupid people whose only motivation to become horsemen is their own glorification. Should I lower myself to compete with them? If it keeps my dear ones from harm, then assuredly I shall.🌾
Mae Darling loved disproving theories. It was what she liked to do best.
She was an attractive woman and she knew it, but she had never found a man who interested her more than her work. She was the epitome of crisp efficiency, with perfectly tamed blonde hair and tailored business skirt suits. Only her eyes were out of place in the ensemble. Blue as a sunny sky, and refreshingly curious, they were her defining look. She took great care never to need sunglasses.
Currently, she was loving her new project. It seemed possible that the skeletons of the so-called indigenous horses of North America weren't indigenous at all, and that horses were at no time native to the continent. That would be such a breakthrough! Just think of the stew it would put the pro-Mustang people in! They liked to claim that the government should protect wild horses because at some point, horses were native to America and therefore were a natural part of wildlife. It would be fun to throw a cog in all that, and prove that some hick trader from Russia brought a bunch of horses here and then let them loose or lost them.
Not that Mae had any feelings about the mustangs either way. Some ranchers hated them, others tolerated them, some liked them because they kept water holes open in winter and stuff. Conservationists loved them because they liked to have projects to waste obscene amounts of taxpayer's money on. Mae really didn't care, except for how they could affect her career.
Today was going to be a big day for her. The Crow tribe had allowed a DNA test on one of their precious Gifted Horses, and the results would come back today, telling her if they were in actuality related to the Bering Sea horses. Mae skipped in excitement. This was why she had this job! So, so exciting!
One of the Crow Indian boys had elected to stay with her in the lab to hear the results. His name was Daniel, and he seemed to have something on his mind. He was a good looking young man, with the sharply defined features of his race, blue black hair and dark eyes like an Italian. But he couldn't keep his mind on conversation. Mae wondered why. It was almost as if he had a vested interest in the test outcome. Well, maybe he did. If it got out that they were running a harmless enough scam, it wouldn't be good for business. People wanted to believe that a native mustang was physically capable of haute ecole dressage, and the news that it was an Andalusian or Warmblood with a little bit of mustang in there somewhere would hardly make their town worth stopping at.
"My dad believes that the Horse God is still alive."
The words jerked Mae out of her reverie.
"What?" she asked, in surprise.
"This guy stopped me after a big show we put on in Havre. Said he was the Horse God, and then got upset that we hadn't hid his horses' bloodline like legend says he told us to. I think he was a nut, but my dad believes he was telling the truth. My dad went to see him at his house, and says his horses make the best show animals out there look like bangtails. I dunno what to think, maybe a test like this on one of his horses would be a good idea. He was creepy. I mean, he knew all sorts of stuff about us that our tribe keeps secret. But seriously, there's no such thing as an immortal person, and the stories say that the Man Who Dances With Horses had no woman. He's gotta be some sort of scam."
Mae knew that many legends had some sort of hard fact as a foundation. It was just getting the facts right that was difficult. For so long, people thought that the Prezwalski Horse was an actual wild horse, the last in existence, and probably the progenitor of most modern breeds. Turned out it was just another feral pony.
This could possibly be Mae's defining discovery. If she could disprove the existence of native horses on the American continent, well, it would make her name.
And, a little voice whispered in her mind, you might become rich, if it turns out that you could somehow seize these so-incredible horses in the name of necessary scientific research...📢
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If you did not like it, well, ignorance is bliss.
Oh, and a final note, it has been recently discovered that the Prezwalski Horse is actually a feral horse and not a wild horse. Recent discoveries have shown that they were domesticated forever and ever ago, and then people stopped using them for an unknown reason, where upon they went feral.
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The Horse Man
General FictionAn immortal man who cares only for horses discovers that the world has built up around him while he ignores it. While hidden from prying eyes, he has preserved ancient bloodlines of certain breeds, and developed a type of his own; something that uns...