The mare, years ago, watched as the foals frolicked around, playing and bugging their dams for attention; she often kept to herself, enjoying watching more than participating. A few times the colts would come close and play with her tail, though she'd shoo them off and continue grazing. Then, it happened.
One of the older colts had broken into their pasture, uncaring of her large pregnant belly and bothering her, snorting and squealing each time she'd try to spook him off; biting in his direction and giving him clear signs or wanting to be left alone. He kicked out as she charged, and the colts hooves landed on her stomach; she almost fell over from the action, squealing as she saw other mares rush over to her, all moving to get the young male away. She struggled to stand back up as their handler rushed into the pasture.
She could hear him talking to the vets, explaining that the colt had gotten out of his own pasture and was bugging mares, but he hadn't been able to catch and remove him; he had seen the horse lash out at Ocean, though the words were blurs. All she could hear was that her foal was gone.
She was kept under close watch afterwards, watching the growing fillies play with their mothers, the colts had been taken away, most re-homed, the remaining few kept in pastures with either the stallions or their own; separate and away from the broods. She would bite at and kick at the other foals, jealous of the mares who got to keep their own offspring. She lost trust in males as well, nervous and anxious to get away each time she was introduced to one. Her handler retired her as a brood and re-homed her, deeming her useless.
She had met Francesca, enjoying her soft and pleasant pats as they stood in the small trailer. Francesca had been informed about her disliking of stallions and sometimes even geldings, though not much information had been given aside from that. She braided her fetlock as the mare slowly dozed off against Frannie's chest. A few treats and a minute later, Francesca closed the trailer doors and got in the truck, driving off and heading home.
Hershey was the first to greet the trailer, and Francesca had a hard time shooing the stallion away. "Where's Hunter, buddy? You gotta go," she scratched at his lips which he wiggled in response; trying to catch her fingers in his mouth in hopes of there being a treat, though once she showed disinterest, he turned and trotted back to his handler who was shoveling away horse poop. Francesca unloaded Ocean, doing her best to keep her calm as the other horses whinnied, she caught sight of little
Bonfire darting back and forth excitedly once she saw Francesca, crow-hopping and bucking.
Ocean was led into a small and empty pasture, the woman wanting to give her time to adjust before meeting any of the horses; most were high energy and she didn't want to scare Ocean; maybe she'd bring Hunter's horse, Sage, the calm mare was friendly nd mainly wanted to nap and graze. Very unlike her dam.
The mare bent her head to graze a bit, Francesca leaning on the fence and watching her before hearing Hunter call for her; his voice was urgent and a bit shaky. She took off to run to him.
Hershey came close to the gate, only wanting to investigate the new mare and say hello. His ears were perked forward as he nickered toward her, watching her wide eyes trail along him; tail flicking in agitation, ears back against her skull and rear positioned closer than her front. Hershey called to her again, and she turned her head; her first assumption was that he was a mare, his scent was less dominant than most other stallions, though she could still recognize the smell. She snorted at him and moved to get away. Hershey, on the other hand, wanted to say hello and make sure this new horse was okay. So what would any sensible horse do? He slipped through the wire fence like he had done it before.
Ocean felt trapped now, watching the stallion and readying herself to either escape the pasture or fight him away. But all he did was begin to nibble at the grass; pretending to focus on anything but her. She slowly approached, her tense shoulders twitching as she nickered quietly. After getting no response she came a little bit closer, until they were only a few feet away. Hershey perked his ears to her, looking at her but continuing his munching. He just wanted to show that he wasn't a threat to the mare, and it seemed to be working; her head lowered and she took a bit of grass in her mouth, grazing and almost letting her mind wander away from the "threat" near her. Hershey had inched closer until they were head to tail, flicking flies away from each others eyes and nostrils. Ocean felt happy he wasn't like many of the other stallions she had previously met.
The two were introduced to a few foals, mainly ones Francesca brought in to foster for a while before they moved to their forever homes. At first, Ocean was angry, refusing to be around any foals until she met
Clifford, the small colt curious and sweet; his personality was so close to his sire's, Hershey. He sniffed at the older mare, little tail wagging like a dogs' as she sniffed him back, licking at his ears and nibbling his mane to say hello; something that Hershey himself had taught her to do. She felt content in her new home, loved working and jumping with Francesca. And most of all, loved Clifford like she would've loved her lost little foal.
