[ShadyBro]

 Owner       >>> Rondell
 Name                >>> Megrim
 Gender         >>> Mare
 Adoption Price         >>> x
 Training         >>> [Fully Trained]
  =====
  . Likes to play in mud
  . Very flirty
  . Loyal

 Offspring;
 None
 Parents;
 Dam
 Sire

 [Discipline >>>>> ]
 [Shows Entered > R: W: E:]
 [Shows Won >>>> R: W: E:]

 [Ej > ] [Ep > ]
 [Eh > ] [Ws > ]
 [Wp > ] [Wt > ]
 [Rf > ] [Rs > ]

[Rondell]

First Touch

One Halloween night, within the span of fifteen minutes, I not only managed to win a mare by having my name drawn out of a hat, I won a potential Neravontii as well. That is to say, I got a voucher which entitled me to pair a mare of my choice with the stallion on offer - a highly mutated boy named Rinn. Now. While your average person would have been ecstatic to be going home with one of these things, let alone both, I, personally, found myself wishing that I'd forgotten my wallet at home. Of course to be completely fair, having never won a raffle in my life, there was no way for me to know that my luck would do a 180 and I'd suddenly win two in one night. Though I wouldn't find out about my second prize until the following morning.

At first I seriously considered giving my voucher to someone else. See, I already had plenty of Nera to keep up with, especially with Wednesday scheduled to be dropped off in a couple of days (that coming Saturday, if you must know; Wednesday didn't come on a Wednesday), and I barely had time to do everything that needed to be done, as is! Did I really need another foal underfoot? Plus, assuming I were mad enough to go through with this, did I even have a mare that would pair well with this Rinn fellow? In other words - would I be wasting a chance that someone else could put to better use?

As I sat there in my kitchen, fiddling with the notepad I usually kept by the phone, I found myself seriously considering the question.

The obvious choice would be someone who shared his colors or pattern. Fantasia maybe, or her mother Penny. The new girl could work too, once I trained her up and let her settle in. Somehow though, since so many of the Nera in my herd were variations on the same red, black, brown, and white theme... I wasn't too keen on the obvious match-ups. I wanted more colour in my pastures! Yellows, greens, oranges, blues! So if I were going to do this... which of my mares would give me the best chance of a foal that wasn't more of the same?

My mind instantly went to Molly. She was pretty much the only mare I owned at the time that didn't have red on her - aside from Curare, whom I couldn't picture as a mother - so if I wanted an unusual match, it was going to have to be her. She'd already raised a pair of twins, too, so she knew what she was doing when it came to foals! Absentmindedly, I left the pad on the table and drifted out onto the back porch, where I breathed in the morning air and turned the idea over and over in my mind. From where I stood, I could see a trio of Nera frolicking about in in the east pasture. Ikelos, Fantasia and Sam. Fanny gave a bellow of pleasure as she bowled into her brother then darted away, prompting him to take off after her, Sam hot on his heels. None of them spotted me.

I remained where I was for several minutes after the trio had vanished from sight over the summit of a hill, still indecisive. Then I sighed, rubbed a speck of dirt from my lens and stepped off the porch. I could brood over this while I was being useful - breakfast still needed to be served.

------

Several months later and I found myself standing outside Molly's stall, petting her velvety nose and speaking in what I hoped was a reassuring manner. Every so often she'd pull away, pace restlessly for a bit, then come back over to me wanting more attention. She was clearly uncomfortable, though there was nothing I could really do for her other than hang around and provide moral support. The foal would be here any time now... As I watched her make what must have been the thousandth circuit of her stall, I drummed my fingers on the rail and fought to maintain my calm. She'd been like this for at least half an hour already, and most likely for a little while before I'd discovered her on my evening walk-by. Though as I'd made a habit of stopping by her stall as often as possible these past few weeks, just to check up, things couldn't have started happeningtoo long before I'd shown up. That was the point of checking in so often, after all.

Molly's nose interrupted my train of thought, and I automatically brought my hand up to rub her forehead, smiling slightly despite my nerves. I could only imagine what she was going through tonight. And I could only hope that my being here was really making things easier for her.

-----

Once begun things happened rather quickly, and before I knew it, my beautiful Molly was munching meditatively on a steak I'd gone and fetched just for her, a gangly new foal standing by her side. I was proud of the mare - she'd held up like a champ. And now that it was all over, she'd returned to her usual calm, cheerful self. All the tension had melted from the air! As for the foal... well... inside Molly's stall now, sitting on an overturned feed bucket in the corner, I couldn't help but be simultaneously smitten and disappointed. It wasn't really what I had been looking for. It was adorable, yes. I'm not sure I'll ever get tired of watching baby Nera take their first steps! The extra vents on its neck were neat, too, as was the tuft of mane along the top of its rump. But its coat was spotted black and red; its mum's pattern in its father's colours... and the entire point of choosing Molly for this little experiment had been to get away from the black and red.

Apparently Rinn had strong genetics.

Finished with her steak now, Molly walked over and nosed my face, her tongue darting out to slime my lenses in the same movement. I couldn't help but laugh as I shoved her away, and some of my disappointment evaporated. "You can have all the steak you'd like in the morning, my love, but for now you need your rest." Indeed, it was now well past midnight and I should have been in bed. When Molly continued to beg though, my smile only grew wider. She really was a gorgeous creature, and I really wasn't tired. Not yet. I took a moment to wipe my face clean on my arm, then leaned forward and made a move to reach up and scratch behind Molly's ears. As I raised my arms, though, I felt a soft, cautious nudge on my right shoulder, and stopped short. While I'd been distracted the foal had toddled up to see what the fuss was about.

I turned slowly, not wanting to startle the little creature, and watched as it sniffed its way from my shoulder to my elbow, and then worked its way down to my partially extended hand. It was a magic moment. Then, suddenly, the foal nipped my wrist, causing me to jump and pull away reflexively. Cheeky one, this! Only minutes old and already checking to see if I was edible!

My sudden motion caused the foal to jump back a few inches in surprise, where it promptly skidded on the straw covering the stall floor and sat down with a thump. Instantly, Molly's ears perked forward and she moved off to check on her baby. I used the opportunity to slip out into the aisle, fastening the stall door securely behind me and trying not to giggle like an idiot. When I glanced back, Molly was too busy grooming on the foal to even notice I'd gone. So I left them to it. There'd be time enough for me to play with the new arrival in the coming weeks.

[Rondell]

First Saddle

Molly's little girl had grown up like a weed, both literally and figuratively. I say this because not only had she grown quickly and gracefully, but more often than not I found myself having to bathe her - from the moment she first set foot in the paddock, it seemed like she was perpetually covered in mud. Even ten minutes after I cleaned her off. I would finish putting away the towels and the shampoo and the buckets, turn around, and BAM! Mud. The stuff seemed to appear magically on her hide, and it sometimes felt like the young mare had a sort of skin condition. She'd also started teasing my males - even the geldings - to the point where I had to keep her separate from the main herds so that fights wouldn't be breaking out right and left. What they saw in the little mudball, I'll never know, yet even the typically placid Moe was getting in on the action! Before I figured out what was going on, the massive gelding had cornered Efialtes, and had been getting ready to pounce with a vengence... while Megrim looked on sweetly, dripping from nose to tail-tip in liquid earth. I had to turn the hose on them to break it up. I'd also had to call in the vet to patch up a particularly nasty gash on Efialtes' shoulder.

WHAT had I gotten myself into?!

----------------

One fine not-quite- winter-yet-still-not-spring-either morning, I found myself cleaning out Megrim's stall. The mare herself was outside the re-purposed storage shed, frolicking about in her own private yard and pulling faces at Efialtes, who stood several yards away from the fence. He was well out of reach, you see, but not out of taunting distance, so Megrim was doing her best to entice him over. Contrary to his usual cheerful self, though, Efialtes wasn't taking the bait. Ever since getting thrashed by Moe, he hadn't wanted a thing to do with Megrim - making him the lone sane guy on a farm of crazies. No, he wasn't here for her. He was here for me. Ever since I'd gotten him he'd been following me about like a lost puppy, and he wasn't about to break this habit for one annoying female. Though he sure as heck wasn't going to get too close... just in case Moe was hiding somewhere. He'd wait for me over there, thank you very much, and when I left Megrim's yard, he'd trot over to me wanting attention. Unfortunately, he was going to have a rather long wait this time.

Today was the day I'd chosen to finally put a saddle on my muddy little horror.

Once I was done with her stall, I wheeled my wheelbarrow out of the yard and left it behind the shed/stable-for-one. I'd deal with it later. This taken care of, I grabbed a halter I'd left by the gate earlier in the morning for this very purpose, and slipped back into the yard to catch Megrim. Before I put a good, clean saddle on the little bugger I'd do my best to get the dust and mud off her. Yes, mud - even though we'd had no rain for a week or more, my mare had managed to find mud. Or rather, make mud. By upending her water bucket. ...Again. I really needed to bolt that thing to the wall or something, before I went mad.

I caught Megrim easily enough - she actually rather liked me, and could be sweet as long she wasn't trying to gain the attention of a possible paramour. So when she saw me striding purposefully into the yard, she came right over and nuzzled my shoulder. She knew something was up! She even stood perfectly still while I slipped the halter onto her. As my hand came within reach, though, her long tongue snaked out and slimed my palm, searching for treats. I couldn't help but laugh. She wasn't a BAD girl... she just had a very definite personality, and sometimes... I had trouble dealing with it.

Thus, mare in tow, I opened the gate and headed for the little patch of concrete outside the main barn where the water spigot stood. I positioned Megrim in the center of the area, then fastened her lead to a post which existed for that very purpose. Believe it or not, when Megrim had figured out where were going, she'd gotten a bit of pep in her step and her ears had perked up considerably. She may like mud, but she also liked baths. Apparently it was more fun to roll around in the dirt if you were clean beforehand. And if you were newly clean - I.E. wet - the dust would stick better. Plus, more often than not, the bath water would flow off the edges of the concrete slab and puddle up around the edges, making - you guessed it - mud!

I should've named her mud!

----------------

Twenty minutes later and Megrim was clean except for her muddy feet. On her way to the bullpen from the bath area, she'd managed to step in every puddle of water we'd created with the hose. There was no avoiding it. On the plus side though, her saddle was waiting for us when we got there, so I didn't have to leave her unattended while I went to get it. I simply let us both into the pen, exchanged the lead rope for a lunge line, and got the mare working. We'd done this many times before, and she was used to the routine. It didn't take her long at all to fall into her stride. Once I was confidant that she'd calmed down sufficiently from the excitement of her bath, I reeled her back in and led her over to where the saddle waited on the fence. I unclipped the lunge line from Megrim's halter and reattached the lead rope, then wrapped its loose end about the rail once or twice. The lunge line I dumped unceremoniously in the dust outside the pen. Only then did I slip the saddle off the rail and into my arms.

Now I had Megrim's attention. she knew what a saddle was - there were a few old ones still stored in the shed she called home, so she'd more or less been around the things her entire life - but didn't know what I was doing with it. She flicked her ears this way and that as I approached, and lowered her head slightly to sniff at the thing in my arms. Then she perked her ears forward and set her head slightly to the side, as if directly asking what I planned to do with the boring old leather thing. Her expressiveness made me grin. She'd get an answer to her question soon enough, in a way that would make her regret asking!

It was the work of a moment to place the saddle on the mare's back and reach down to do up the girth - not too tight, for starters, but enough to keep her from wearing it on her belly. Nevertheless, Megrim reacted at once to the pressure, bringing her hear up sharply and taking a couple, dancing, steps backward. This pulled her lead free from the rail, and I had to grab madly to keep it from hitting the ground. This was mostly a reflexive action and in retrospect I realize it was stupid. Had Megrim been of a more nervous disposition, it could have startled her and caused her to bolt. Or I could have gotten my head kicked in. As it stood though, I got lucky. My scramble had the unforeseen effect of refocusing the mare's attention on me without freaking her out more, and once I had the lead in my hands I was able to pull her head back down and stroke her nose a few times to quiet her. I guess since I'd practically raised her, she was used to my flailing. I also took the opportunity to undo the lead entirely. Just in case she got away from me again. Then, speaking softly to her, I took a hold of her halter and began to lead her around.

Every so often her nervousness would get the better of her and she'd dance sideways or backwards, or try to start running, but each time I managed to get her back under control and walking normally again. After two laps of this though, I decided enough was enough and took the saddle off her. It wouldn't do to stress her out too badly on her first outing, and I didn't want to damage the trust we had. For her part, Megrim seemed immensely relived to be free, and spent a couple of minutes mincing about the pen, her head held high. She even knocked the saddle to the ground in a fit of mischievousness and planted a dirty foot smack in the middle of it.

So much for keeping her tack clean...

Once I'd put the gear away, I led back over to where I'd bathed her this morning and turned her loose for a brief romp in the mud. She'd get herself gross again even if I hadn't, and maybe this way she'd leave her water bucket alone. Besides, I didn't need her clean anymore. We were done for the day! I could get her more used to the concept of wearing her saddle later on, and give her more baths, too.

But for now, maybe now Efialtes and I could finally hang out for a bit.

[Rondell]

First Ride

Two and a half weeks after I first threw a saddle on Megrim, life hadn't changed much. The weather had been constant. Efialtes still tried to follow me into the house. Wednesday still scared the tar out of me at least once a day. My chores didn't decide to magically do themselves. Yup - business as usual! My work with the mare had continued, too. I'd been going out to her little yard every day and saddling her up, then walking her around until she started to relax a bit. Then I'd take it off and turn her loose. Once she'd gotten to the point where having the saddle on her back was old hat, I'd started adding extra weight into the mix. Thus, bit by bit, I'd approximated my weight and broken Megrim to saddle.

Almost, anyway. Because I still had to hop up there myself.

Her loyal and trusting nature was helping things along, so as I led her into the arena, saddle already on her back (I'd put it on in the barn, this time) I had to admit that I wasn't TOO nervous about this. No more so than usual anyway; Megrim walked along behind me looking bored, and the metaphorical butterflies in my stomach were mostly behaving themselves. But still...I hadn't expected anything untoward when riding Jujube for the first time either, had I? Then I'd gone and nearly fried a vital component by falling on my head. Overconfidence and Neravontii made poor bedfellows. Which is why I'd not only moved that dratted jump, I'd taken it out of the arena entirely. That way, if I were going to bite the dust, I'd have nothing to hit my head on other than the ground! Though that still wasn't ideal...

I easily positioned Megrim next to the mounting block. I then climbed to the top, still turning over that memory in my mind.

I needn't have worried, though. After her initial bout of surprise, which sent her forward several steps then froze her in place, her head craned around so that she could investigate my knee, Megrim shrugged the whole thing off and seemed to be bored with it. She even started wandering idly about the arena, following the trail of tasty tidbits I kept throwing down for her. The important thing was - she didn't shrug ME off!