Maybelle: Untamable Wild

Please!

              I knew it wasn't the dark speaking, and I knew it wasn't my herd speaking, either.

             Opening my eyes with consciousness but pain, I knew it was multiple men doing more than talking. They were worrying for me.

             "Think it could be that, Jerald?" asked a dull-color mister, eyeing the underside of my belly.

             "Possible, but who said I actually found myself as a vet?"

             Since I was the one waking up to these questions from men, I too was questionable about what they were going on about. The situation could only be so discouraging, with me being the one that tripped over that poor coy-dog.

             Then again, I felt mediocre about the fact enough time passed for such humans to get me to shelter.

          I shifted the slightest, and they hushed me from huffing.

         The mister that spoke of Jerald clasped his mouth together tightly. "She must be a hurting mare, this Maybelle."             

         Jerald looked on towards a repeating sound. "Here on comes Boy Junior. . ."

         A shadow, then. "If this mammal has tape-worms, how come she's been up and taking off in the wind with all that wild in her?"

          Tape-worms. I've heard and seen worms with my own two eyes, but tape-worms were another I have yet to see. And with any worms, dead or alive, I bet any horse of my herd would prefer them outside of their guts.

           Uncertainty made me shiver when minutes went by and I couldn't feel any worms wiggling or shifting inside of me.

           Alarm was with Mrs. Outerbridge when she attempted to scurry into the stall. "OH! My Maybelle!"

         "Susan! SUSAN! Ain't gonna take no thrash'n from you!" intervened another lady with a fierce, distinguished voice.

         Jerald faced her sternly with, "Mrs. Outerbridge, your yapp'n's gonna spook the mare if-"

         "NO! Please! By golly, if anyone's near'n my Maybelle, it's gonna be me! The poor mare!" exclaimed she.