Horse Star

🏇5🏇

Dallas kept his chest up as he walked down the rocky hills. I sighed, my eyes drooping slightly. I was getting a little tired from all the frustration today. My horse neighed gently, and I smiled, petting the right side of his neck.

All of a sudden, Dallas reared at the sound of a gun shot nearby. His cry was very loud, and I had to grip around him tighter to not fall off. He landed before bolting away, down the plain of grass, sticking awfully close to the rocky hill. Another gun shot sounded through the air, and I closed my eyes at the wild horses' cries of fear and pain.

I halted Dallas, searching in the distance of the noises carried by the wind. I wanted to help them. I couldn't just sit there and listen to the sounds of their cries and begs for help. I would be haunted for the rest of my life if I didn't at least try for them.

I turned the reign towards the direction, clicked my tongue, and gently tapped my foot onto his side. He started to go in a fast trot in case it was closer than we thought. Much to my displeasure, we didn't get that far.

Another horse raced from my left and stopped in front of me. It reared with a powerful neigh before gracefully landing on all fours. I seen the person on its back. Mason Zyaire. The manager, founder, and principal of Zyaire Academy. He carefully studied me before he, too, gazed out into the distance of the painful cries of agony and despair.

"It's too dangerous," he told me, turning his horse, Rusty, to face me and Dallas.

Rusty had the top half of his mane black and the bottom half a creamy white color. The same was for his tail. His whole head was black, and the main portion of his body was a grey. His hooves were tan. Rusty had a white arc over his front left shoulder, and a thick, imperfect white line down the outer side. It went to a whole white wrap around his leg from where the elbow is the entire way down. That wrap was around all of the legs but the back right. It was only a white wrap around the ankle to the hoof. He also had an imperfect line down his back leg that also arked towards the rear of his hind leg.

"I can't just let those guys hurt them," I disagreed, attempting to go around him, but Rusty stopped Dallas once more.

"I won't let my students get hurt. I can't do anything about this. It's not my land. I can't enforce anything."

"They're killing them, aren't they?" A few tears brimmed my eyes as he looked down with an angry and helpless look.

"Most likely," he said. He tried to regain his composure as he glanced back up to me. "I want you to stay away from over there. Stay on top of the rocky hill. I can at least protect my students and their horses from there. Understood?" I nodded, looking down in defeat. His head snapped over in an instant, and I followed. Incoming was a giant herd of horses. Dallas reared in warning as hunters followed close behind. I slipped from the saddle from the sudden rear, and I landed roughly on the grassy plains. "Sam!"

"Dallas, wait!" I called as he roughly landed very close to me. I covered my face with my arms as my shield. Zyaire lifted me onto his saddle while the wild horses pounded past us. They went for the hills, and a few hunters cocked their guns and shot at them. Dallas reared at the nearest horse, knocking its rider off his saddle. Rusty stepped between the men and the fleeting horses.

"Hold your fire!" Mason hollered. "My students are up in there! You'll shoot them!"

"Those are our horses!" the man on the ground shouted back.

"That is my property. The horses are on my lands. Leave." Zyaire grabbed Dallas's reign, but so did one of the others. The manager glared at the act.

"He'll be payment for all them horses ya stole from us. He might fetch us a heavy price," the guy who grabbed him snickered. I reached for my horse, and Dallas sensed that, moving closer to me.

"Sam?" Mason Zyaire questioned in worry.

"I'm fine," I said. I rested my hands on the handle of the saddle and on the saddle itself. I held up my weight as I threw my right leg over his body. He snorted, shaking out his mane. I slapped the guy's hand off his reign, and I took the reigns for myself. "He's not going anywhere. He's my horse," I spoke calmly. The man sneered, but some others snickered.

"She's a mighty fine woman," one said. "I want me someone like her."

"Or just have her," another chuckled.

"Shut up!" the guy who was previously on the ground shouted. He had mounted his own horse once more. "A woman obeys their man, and they don't back talk." He glared at me. "They have no rights nor freedom. They get permission from the man of the house, and that is that. And they most certainly should not be on a horse. Only in the house, cleaning, cooking, and getting ready for breeding."

"You have no say in what they do," Mason scoffed, making Rusty push between the unknown black horse with a white underbelly and Dallas. "She can do as she pleases, whether you like it or not. Sam." He turned to me, nudging his head towards the hill. I nodded, tapping my horse's side to go. We took the lead up the hill, and Mr. Zyaire followed shortly after. "You could have been hurt today, or even worse if I hadn't been there," he suddenly spoke halfway back.

"I'm sorry. I hate just sitting there helpless and not being able to do a thing to help."

"I know. I was like that, too, when I was your age. I hated seeing animals hurt just for sport and game. I had to be dragged back to my school so many times because of it. I even got my horse banned from me for two weeks once."

"Really?"

"Yeah. When you have the deepest respect for an animal, it's hard to just sit back and keep quiet. That's probably why that stallion of yours chose you."

"You mean Dallas?"

"Mhmm. I used to have a pure stallion once. He was the most loyal creature I had ever met. Sometimes he would intentionally break out of his stall to come to me in that two weeks we were ''banned" from seeing each other. My instructor used to get so mad at us." He began to laugh as he recalled his teenage memories.

"When are we getting our trainers?"

"This weekend."

"At the camp?"

"Yup." We crossed the edge of the tree line, and Sylvie and William looked relieved to see us both safe.

"We're sorry, Sir," Sylvie said.

"I should have stopped her when I seen her," William added.

"Now, now. Everything is fine. Where are the wild horses?"

"Picking partners," Sylvie answered, but she looked just as puzzled as us.

"That so? Well then. I'm going to go check on Jack." Mason Zyaire clicked his tongue, and Rusty started up the sidewalk trail towards his personal barn. "Oh." He paused Rusty. He turned to face the two trainers. "And take it easy on her punishment. She's a bit like me, ya know?" With that comment, he took off up the trail.

What was that supposed to mean? It sounded like a double meaning...