[SerenWish]

UnicornTamer
#6825

Name: The Wanderer "Peregrine"
Age: 9
Breed: Mustang
Color: Bay Dun Roan
Gender: Gelding
Markings: Star, sock.
Height: 15.1 hands
Special/Fear/Vice: This gelding has an issue with strange smells- he's very sensitive and gets excited or nervous over new scents. He especially hates the scent of fly spray and other chemicals.
Notes: He can become agitated quickly over little things.
Genetics: E/E, A/A, D/d, Rn/rn

[UnicornTamer]

Oh, yay! He's gorgeous! His show name is The Wanderer, and his barn name is Peregrine, which means 'wanderer'. I know just how to train this guy.

[UnicornTamer]

First artwork:

[UnicornTamer]

FIRE EYES

Peregrine eyes me from the far end of the corral. I brought him in last night, but he was frightened to the core and I don't know if he even slept. I don't want to frighten him further, so I just sit in the other end of the corral, watching him. He swivels his ears at me, alert and ready to dash away if I do anything scary. But I do nothing. A faint wind whispers through the branches of the oak shadowing the corral, and insects murmur in the grass. The other workers are on the other side of the barn; it is just me and Peregrine - The Wanderer. A fire shimmers in his eyes. I don't want to take away the fire; I only want to ride it. It will take a lot of work, though, to learn to ride fire.

[UnicornTamer]

MOLASSES

Again I sit in the corral, watching Peregrine. He is used to my presence now, and approaches me, then stops. His nostrils are flared, his ears threatening to lay back and his eyes wild. I have already detected his issue with smells. He must not like my sent. No problem. I slowly take a bottle of molasses and pour a little into my hand. I make sure Peregrine sees all of this. Then I slowly hold it out to him. He backs away, nostrils still flared, his eyes on me. I don't move. He backs up and stops for a while, tossing his head and snorting. At last, curiosity gets the better of him and he carefully approaches me again. My heart beats fast. Peregrine stops as close as he dares to me and leans over my hand, lipping at the molasses. In a matter of minutes it is gone. And so is his fear.

[UnicornTamer]

THE HALTER

On those warm summer evenings I go out to the paddock and be with Peregrine, sitting by watching him, or laying beside him. He has gotten quite used to me now. I no longer need molasses to convince him I'm good. It's been several weeks. I decide it's time for Peregrine's first lesson. I go out to paddock, the molasses bottle in my hand again and an old halter in the other. An old halter won't have the strong smells a new one will.
"Here, boy," I call to him. Peregrine pricks his ears and trots toward me across the grass. Then he sees the halter. He stops, nostrils flared. I pour a little molasses into my hand and hold it out to him. He gives in and comes up to me to eat the treat, but eyeing the strange thing in my hand the whole time. When Peregrine is finished I let him examine the halter. The sensitive whiskers on his nose quiver as he first tentatively, then more boldly, sniffs the halter. He decides it is safe. I slowly bring it up to his face. He backs away a little, but my hand still smells of molasses. He grudgingly lets me slip the halter on and buckle it. He tosses his head and glares at me. He scratches at it with his hind hoof, but it doesn't come off. Peregrine hesitates, and stands still. I take off the halter. I know he will soon get used to it, as he got used to me.

[UnicornTamer]

WALK ON

Weeks have passed. The abominable halter no longer troubles Peregrine. He is used to me and most of the other workers, though he trusts me the most. He's even made friends with Caranthir, my frisian stallion. Now it is time to teach him to be led. I go to the paddock and put the halter on Peregrine. Then I attach a lead rope to it. He seems a little uncertain about the rope but doesn't make a fuss. I have Timothy, one of the workers, lead Caranthir in front of Peregrine.
"Walk on," I say. Like an obedient puppy, Peregrine follows his best friend. After a few minutes, I try walking Peregrine without Caranthir. "Walk on." Peregrine plants his hooves in the ground and refuses to move. I expected this. I take the rope and put it around his rump. He watches me in fascination. "Walk on," I say again. Peregrine looks off to a bird singing in the branches of the oak as if he did not hear me. I pulled at the rope suddenly, and Peregrine leaped forward. I give him a pat. He snuffles my hair and I laugh. He whinnies shrilly. I look into his eyes. The fire still burns there. Good.

[UnicornTamer]

SLIP KNOT

"Walk on." Peregrine follows me out of his stable. He lifts his head and flares his nostrils as he takes in the wet morning air. It rained the night before, and he delicately steps around the puddles as I take him to the paddock. I lead him up to the old oak in the field. Peregrine sniffs the bark and looks at me. I loop the rope around the trunk of the oak and tie it with a slip knot. Then I step away. Peregrine moves to follow me, but the rope tugs at the halter. He stops, looking very bewildered. He tries to move again. Then he pulls. He kicks at the tree and whinnies in a high-pitched voice. I come up to him, murmuring to soothe him down. He stands still, his lips quivering. I give him a big hug. Now I can groom him while he stays still.

[UnicornTamer]

Some extras:

Discipline: english
Best Friend: Caranthir
Favorite Activity: being with me and wandering in the paddock

[UnicornTamer]

SCARDY HORSE

Peregrine stands still where he is tied up at the fence as I carefully and gently brush his coat until it gleams in the light of the late afternoon sun. Suddenly he jerks backwards, ears laid back, nostrils flared. His eyes are huge with fright. I lean over the fence to see what frightened him. A fox is watching us from the nearby forest, its small black eyes fixed on Peregrine. Peregrine gives off a scared whinny. He starts weaving from side to side as much as the rope lets him. Then he pulls back at it again. I quickly yank the slip knot loose and Peregrine kicks the fence before galloping away to the far side of the paddock, lips quivering. I slowly go to him, and he puts down his head for me to stroke it. His ears are pricked and alert. I give him a big pat. Then I laugh.
"Scardy horse." How I love him.