It Started With A Horse

Beasty

She was as majestic as the wildest horse.

Pure black. A 'Flicka' type, pure black gorgeousness. One white sock went up just past her front, right ankle.

A mustang, so powerful and beautiful that it seemed no one could touch her.

Caught out in the wild, the sole purpose being used for rodeos.

She was terrified. Petrified. Not knowing what future lies ahead of her. Abused, underweight, but not close enough to be malnourished.

She was getting closer to it, though.

Thinking there was no way out, knowing there was no way out, sold auction after auction, rodeo after rodeo, she was sold to a man.

He was no nice man, there were horses where he lived. Others that were in worse conditions then Beasty was. Severely under weight, no hope left in their eyes, no way they were going to get out.

Months had gone by, she stayed there, hoping, wishing, something good would finally happen to her.

That day had come, when a nice looking group of people had come in one day, instead of the usual everyday group. They walked around, surveying every other horse, talking about which horses weren't going to make it and which ones were.

One of the people in that group had found her way to her. She was blonde, tall and had a nice looking face. Non judgemental, curious and kind. She turned and yelled at someone who looked just like her, except, younger looking and black hair instead of blonde.

'What do you think she looks like, huh? Cody, Zazu? You're the one with the good names.'

She seemed to think a minute, as they stared at each other from different sides of the railing. It had seemed to be a lifetime later that she replied, but it quiet, unsure, but so sure she didn't know which to pick.

'Beasty,' she softly said, barely audio with the surrounding commotion of moving horse here there.

'She looks like a Beasty, the kind of Beasty with a kind of magic to her. Not quite the Beast, from Beauty and the Beast, but the kind that has a kind of not wanting to listen to anybody.

'She looks lost. She seems lost. She has the energy of 'all I want is to be freed, to run and not be stoped'. I think we should let her free, let Spirit take him away with his herd.'

No horse should be like this, she thought. The more it was thought on, the more she hoped that the Dunn would run by to pick up this horse.

She knew it wasn't yet an option. He needed nutrition, help, muscle. There was definitely, a lot of work to be done.

**

It was time.

The day she got to go run free again.

The day she got to experience the freedom, the peacefulness, calmness and all other things that came with being a young, carefree wild mustang.

It was there, in front of her face. She followed the Dunn to the mountains, watched as a slowly growing herd approached from the right, a group of horses she could call family.

They ran through valleys, green as green could be, streams as fresh as could be, little patchs of forested areas.

She was home.

Home in her rightful place.

But she will never forget her name, Beasty, and the tiny looking human for saving her life.