Username:
Frightful
Kennel Number:
186
Name:
Albatross [Alba]
{The albatross is a seabird considered to be misfortunate and unlucky}
Gender:
Male/Gelding
Breed/Species:
Icelandic Pony
13.4 hh
Personality:
Gentle and Wise
Alba is a very calm pony with more experience than any equine you could imagine. He has been through the ups and downs of life and does his best (and usually succeeds) in attempting to avoid harmful things.
Patient but easily irritated
He's determined that his old age will not stop him from doing things and is willing to wait forever for his old owner to come back to him. Though he is quite patient, Alba can be irritated by simple things. He may stay patient with a squirming rider, but if he is groomed on his stomach in a certain area or on his face, he may be subject to nipping.
Set in his ways
Alba dislikes change. A lot. From a new saddle to a new fence, change upsets him greatly.
Enjoys attention
No, not the kind of attention from drama. He loves getting treats and being pampered by his riders. Even so, he dislikes being the center of attention among the horses. Alba just enjoys being loved and cared for and wishes never to be put aside and ignored.
Background/History:
"C'mon Alba, let's go!" Tiny, soft hands pull on my faded navy halter, which engraved in it a small gold plate reads 'Albatross', tugging me from the comfort of my stall. I turn my head back to take in the strong scent of alfalfa hay before stepping lightly onto the cool concrete ground of the barn. Some familiar faces nicker in my direction. I shake my undulating mane, black as night, in greeting to my stablemates. The short girl, barely tall enough to reach my head, stands on her toes and kisses my velveteen nose. "Silly boy, Alba!" She tugs a bit firmer this time and skips in the direction of the cross-ties nearest to us, causing some discomfort in my neck as she pulls it into an unusual rhythmic motion. I can't help but nip at her in annoyance, but she pays no mind as she skips and hums a simple tune.
I close my eyes and look back on my many years I have taught impatient, energetic children upon my sturdy back. How many years have I been gifting children the secrets of riding? I have seen the autumn leaves dance with the wind and the summer fly masks secure around my face countless times.
To my relief, we stop abruptly at the cross-ties, jolting me from my memories. She disappears into the tack room and reappears with my mahogany saddle resting on my fair blue saddle pad, struggling to carry it to my back. With her small frame, she stumbles, the saddle tumbling out of her hands and onto the ground. "And just what do you think you're doing, Elise?" a voice from behind me demands. I search blindly for the voice, though I know who it belongs to. My rider stops dead in her tracks and looks up at her trainer, the owner of the stables. The one who saved me from death. She appears out of the corner of my eye. My owner's tall figure stoops down and meets the younger girl. "You could have ruined the saddle! Ask me to tack him up until you become stronger and more experienced!" Her sharp features twist into a scowl. Elise apologizes with a shaky voice before intently working on helping groom my dusty spring coat, her eyes still glossed over with a hint of fear. I stand as still as a statue, waiting to be completely cleaned.
Arthritis wraps around my legs, and my morning supplement has been long forgotten. As if reading my mind, my owner stops the circular motion of the curry comb and looks over my back. "Did you remind the grooms to help you feed Alba his arthritis medicine?" Elise's eyes widen further.
"I forgot," she whispers, barely audible to even my sharp hearing. She looks down at her fading paddock boots and kicks them around in the dust. "Ms. Christina, it's a lot to remember. I'll try next time, I promise," Though Christina's gaze softens, I can tell by the way she is clutching the brush behind her mask of calm emotion shows anger. She purses her lips but stays silent for a few long seconds.
"All right, then can you please ask Mr. Thomas to bring me some of his feed and his medicine?" Elise scurries off, and for a while, I can hear the faint calls to the groom. I turn my head to Christina and my vacuous stare bores into her face. Why have you abandoned me? I want to neigh, but deep down, I know it would be unjust to say she has completely done so. I softly blow into her face, causing her to straight, dark brown hair to unsettle. She smiles softly, and deep in my heart, I know she is reminiscing on our adventures together when she was a young teenager. Her father pointing me out. Ignoring the tall Thoroughbreds and hardy Quarter Horses and running up to me, shouting, "He's perfect, Daddy! Can we take him home?" Saving me from the kill sales and nursing me back to heath. Clearing a three foot jump. Our first competition. Learning so much from each other. We had shared a special bond, but now that she has long outgrown me, she pays little attention to her old pony that commits his life to teaching young children the principles of riding. Not for my own benefit, but for hers. I'm doing it all for her and her alone.
I nicker softly and wrap my head around her, thanking her for not only remembering my arthritis supplements but for all of the happy memories we have shared in the past. I linger, wishing she would come and be with me despite the amount of work she has to do, between arranging her marriage to her fiancé, teaching riding lessons, and caring for her variety of horses and ponies.
Christina pushes away from me and gently pats my neck. I know she isn't the type to come back easily, but I am blessed enough to have her all to myself for this moment. She starts to finish grooming my light buckskin coat as we wait. I wish it would go on forever, as it eases the itchy feeling of dirt lodged into my hairs. I close my eyes sleepily and try savor the moment, but I can already hear the heavy steps of Elise and the groom (who Christina calls Mr. Thomas, but I simply call him 'Groom' or 'the groom') returning with my arthritis supplement. She finishes my coat and takes my powder blue saddle pad in her hands, absentmindedly tracing my name etched in silver lining with her fingers. Throwing it over my back, she adjusts it to the deep valley in my back my saddle has made over the years. It had once been hers. Ours.
With a bit of 'assistance' from Elise, I am saddled. She tugs on my bridle, eager to begin her lesson. I absorb her enthusiasm and know that if I could smile as she could, I would be too. We approach the indoor ring and she mounts my left side. Elise can barely reach my saddle she is so tiny, but with the help of the mounting block, she swings her legs over my back, and Christina adjusts the stirrups to her legs. Soon, we are off. She clicks her tongue and squeezes her legs. "Trot, Alba."
--
The warm spring sunlight soaks through my back as I chew lazily on a patch of clover. The larks tweet happily to their songs, and I feel at peace. I am about to doze off into a nap when I hear faint sobs. My eyes flicker open, and I twitch my ears as I try to locate the sound. After I take the last bite of the sweet clover, I raise my head, ears pricked forward. I can still taste the sweet sensation on my tongue as I try to locate the sound. My gaze fixes on the north fence of the pasture. The small figure with her face cupped in her hands can only be one person. Christina.
I stand as if frozen for a second as the grass sways calmly. My eyes blink, staring at her blotchy face. I start at a walk, but soon pick up my pace to a steady trot towards her. She looks up at me and a small smile curves onto my face. She clicks her tongue weakly and opens the gate. I stop in my tracks. Christina's hands are empty, and I am unsure if I am allowed to go without a halter. She beckons for me to come, so I start towards her again. When I reach her, I nuzzle her face as I did when she was a small girl. "Oh Alba," she whispers and hugs my neck. Hot tears soak my mane. Her hands move up to my withers and the unexpected happens. Christina's legs swing over my sides.
And that, my friend, is how we have become one again.
Use:
I will use Alba for stories and definitely art. He is such a gorgeous character with loads of personality conjured in my head. Though his coat may be a challenge, I think it would be excellent practice with various horse markings. If I get back into roleplaying, then he will most certainly be one of my first characters to be roleplayed.
Other: Work in progress ^^ I have so much story to do xD
TnT
by tokietok » Thu Apr 05, 2012 9:46 am 
- art shop ♡ - kalons - wermz
