Mustang Makeover- Flit's Journey

[Sabatea]

Please do not post. Feel free to send me a message though, I promise I don't bite. ^-^

So, I joined the Mustang Makeover this year on CS. (Hosted by the Cottonwood Wild Horse Ranch) So, I now have a mustang character of my own for the competition. I will be putting her stories and art on this to keep it organized and to not spam the artist on my horse's page. XD

Fleeting Glimpse "Flit"


Show Name: Fleeting Glimpse
Barn Name: Flit
Age: 4
Breed: Mustang
Color: Palomino Roan
Gender: Mare
Markings: Blaze, two stockings, half-cannon
Height: 15.0 hands
Special/Fear/Vice: This mare is a bolter. When she is afraid, she has to move and can't stand still, and is easily set off.
Notes: An unusual color to show up, this extremely pale mare was a easy mark for predators as a foal. Due to a few close scrapes, which is why she has such a bolter.
Genetics: e/e, a/a, Cr/cr, Rn/rn

Hex Codes:
#c7a584- Palomino
#3f160a- Eye
#37312c- Dark Muzzle
#cbb2ab- Light Muzzle
#ead3bd- Roan
#b49d8d- Light Hoof
#6a5f57- Dark Hoof
#f1e5dd- Mane and Tail
#cab9aa- Dark Between Back Legs

[Sabatea]

I was bubbling with excitement. I had my mustang in the trailer hooked up to the back of my truck. She was a gorgeous palomino roan mare. I was afraid she would be nervous of the trailer, but she had made no sounds as far as I could tell. I was overjoyed at having the opportunity to receive and train my very own mustang.

I was participating in an event called the Mustang Makeover. Basically, I was given a mustang of my very own and asked to tame and train the horse for the competition. If I could gain the most trust from my horse within the few months I had I could win. Who wouldn’t want to tame a wild mustang?

Granted, I might not be of the same opinion once I begin my taming process. Each mustang had its own quirks to be worked with and I had yet to discover my mare’s. I hoped she might be easier to deal with, considering she was only four years old. She might not be as stuck in her ways as some of the other horses that had been given out.

However, the mustangs had never had any contact with humans. Or so the hosts of the competition had told me. I was worried about how my mare might react to all of the change in her life. After all, she had been born and raised in Utah in the wild horse herds that remain there. I was surprised to find that any herds remained in the states at all, I had thought they all would have been destroyed by now.

I was glad to have my mustang though, so I was very happy that the herds remained today. She was a beauty, with her pale coat and her blaze. She had some corn spots on her shoulder which interested me. I wonder what she had gotten into to receive them. Whatever the reason, I felt that I might know her better by having recognized that she had such markings.

It made me nervous to think of the trailer frightening her. Each bump in the road made me wince and glance in my mirrors to check on her. I could faintly see her coat through the slits in the metal before she straightened herself. I tried to calm down some, trying to convince myself that she was a wild mustang and had been through worse.

Despite my attempts to calm myself, I just grew more anxious when we turned into the gravel road that would bring us home. The gravel here was worn and loose and didn’t make for a pleasant ride for someone who wasn’t used to it. I tried to keep the ride as smooth as possible, but my truck still slipped through along the road, the small pebbles pinging against the metal.

I still hadn’t heard any noise from the mare, even when I saw the telltale corral that marked my home. I turned as gently as I could into the driveway, sighing in relief when we pulled off the gravel and onto hard-packed earth. The ride instantly became smoother and I gained more control of the truck. I glanced in my mirrors again to check on the mustang , but I couldn’t see her through the trailer.

Carefully, I backing in towards the corral, deciding it might be better to let her settle in a more open area. After all, she was used to having as much room as she wanted, so I wasn’t about to stick her in the stable. Especially not after having put her in a trailer. She was probably frightened enough.

I parked the truck, clambering out and making my way towards the door to the corral. I pulled it open just far enough for me to back the trailer into the entrance. I quickly did just that, double-checking the gate to make sure there was no way for the mustang to get out of the corral without jumping it. I carefully held the door so that she wouldn’t be able to push her way out of it.

Stretching as far as I could, I managed to barely snag the handle to open the trailer. I pushed it down with all the strength I could send to my fingertips, pulling the door open as soon as the latch was out of the way. I almost missed the palomino blur by blinking.

My mare was racing around the corral, her mane and tail flying behind her like a kite. Her ears were pinned down and she didn’t seem to interested in stopping any time soon. I gapped some at her speed, having never seen a real wild mustang so close before. I marveled at the elegance of her stride and the flow of her muscles.

Before she could decide she would prefer to be loose, I pulled the trailer forward and closed the corral. I latched the gate closed and gave it a tug to be certain it would stay put. I wasn’t about to lose my mustang on the first day. Having made sure she was secured, I allowed myself to watch her unrelenting race around the corral.

I wondered if she would always be like this or if it was going to get better once I truly began working with her. I wasn’t very experienced in training horses, nor sealing with them, but I hoped that I might at least get to try working with her soon. I would do my research and find the best possible way to work around whatever she needed me to fix.

As I watched her, I wondered what name might suit this fantastic animal. So far, I could tell that she was frightened and not afraid to run as far as need be to get away from me and the trailer. I stood leaning against the fence, my arms crossed against the steel.

“Should I give you a show name as well? Or should I wait on that?” I asked her out loud, watching as she gave a short whinny at the sound of my voice. She fled past me with a gust of wind that ruffled my hair back from my face. I gave a small smile at that having an idea.

“What about Flit?” I murmured, laughing some as she did as the name suggested. She flitted around the corral as gracefully as a butterfly. The dust trail behind her marked her path like the shining tail of a comet. Before long, I could barely make her out through all the dust she had thrown up. “And for a show name… How about Fleeting Glimpse?” I laughed at my own ingenuity as I gazed at my new mare.

[Sabatea]

I had been forced to leave a bucket of water and a bucket of food in the corral with Flit. She would not be calmed and she had no intention of coming towards me. I had assumed as much would happen, but there had still been that degree of hope that wanted her to adjust to me instantly. Of course, that didn’t happen at all.

Flit just continued her insane rampage until I left. I watched her from a distance then, to see if it might calm her down for me to be away. Apparently it did, since she slowed down a few minutes later and eventually came to a full stop. She was panting and shaking, her coat shining with sweat. I wished I could help to cool her down some, but I knew it was better if I let her work everything out by herself for the next few weeks or so.

I had watched her until it became dark, trying to figure her out. She found the water before too long and took a long drink of it. I was glad to see her do that much, because she really needed the hydration after her running spree.

I hadn’t seen her eat anything, even by the next day. Maybe she was just nervous and didn’t feel like eating. Hopefully she would stop being that way soon, because she needed the nutrients.

It upset me to see such a magnificent creature so frightened, but I knew that she would calm down before too long. For the time being though, I would have to sit and wait. I sat by the corral all day, watching her, trying to figure her out.

She seemed to be a very proud animal, with her head held high as she circled the corral. Despite this though, I could see the fear in her eyes she seemed so desperate to hide. With her pale coat, in the wild she must’ve been naturally targeted by predators. To be entirely honest, I was glad she was with me, safe in my corral.

Flit trotted around the pen, seeming to have gotten used to the corral at least. She gave me a wide berth though, watching me each time she passed, as if afraid I might lash out at her. I stayed very still when she did this, keeping my gaze averted, as if uninterested by her presence.

I was doing my best not to act like a predator to her by not gazing at her when she was watching me. A hunter had once told me that when he was hunting, the way to get closest to the deer was to look away whenever it looks at you. It was something about the whites of your eyes showing that frightened the deer away, since predators stared directly at their prey.

I did my best to not frighten Flit, after all she was already frightened enough. So, I did as the hunter had said, keeping my eyes to the side when Flit was watching me. I still watched her in my peripheral vision though, still unable to completely look away from the beautiful mare.

I continued like this all day, learning her habits and her tricks. She often tossed her head as she ran, as if excited by the air rushing past her. She threw her tail a lot too, as if it had become habit to knock away the many flies that no longer existed at such extremes. She seemed a bit temper mental too.

I had seen her trample a small plant that had sprung up in the corral during the last rain because she had brushed against it and jumped. She had skidded to a stop after calming down some and returned to sniff at the plant. She had then proceeded to stomp it to death. Maybe she just didn’t like thistles?

[Sabatea]

I had spent the past few days watching my mustang. Perhaps I was taking it too slow, but I wanted to be completely certain that Flit wouldn’t be frightened of me. Nervous was okay, but I didn’t want my training to be based on her fear of me. Winning the competition really held no appeal for me, but winning the affection of my mustang did.

So, I sat on the fence, day after day, watching her. I observed as much about her personality and movements as I could over those days, since those traits would be important later on. I had figured out that she could be very stubborn, and she was easily set off by things around her. Some would cause her to jump away, or she would run halfway around the corral to get away from them.

I wasn’t sure how she would do once I started riding her. It was still quite a ways away though, so I did my best not to think about it. I did know that I would try to start making steps towards my second objective. To touch my horse.

So, I slid off the fence this time and into the corral. Flit was standing on the other side of the corral, having finally stopped her desperate circling the day before. She glanced in my direction at the scuffing of my shoes on the loose dirt. Her ears swiveled in my direction before flicking back some. She snorted at me as I stepped towards her slowly.

I moved as slow as I could, trying not to look threatening, but at the same time, I did my best not to look too weak. I’d rather not be kicked, but I knew the risk when I first entered the corral. I advanced towards her until I had halved the distance between us. By then, I stood in almost the exact center of the pen. It was then that she decided she didn’t like my presence so near her.

She whinnied at me harshly, bolting away from me and circling back behind me. She seemed agitated now, seeming to realize that she couldn’t get further away from me than she already was. I stood very still as she continued to circle me, eventually slowing to a stop.

She stares at me from the corner of the corral, the whites of her eyes flashing at me as she surveyed me. I flinched at the bright color, knowing that it means she’s afraid of me. Hesitantly, I crouched and sat on the ground, crossing my legs in front of me. I watched her the entire time I moved, afraid she would take advantage of my weakness.

I knew that she wasn’t a predator and probably wouldn’t lash out at me at random, but I was trying to be cautious with her. As carefully and slowly as I could, I pulled a glistening apple from my pocket. I placed it on the ground and rolled it towards her some.

She stepped away from it nervously, though it stopped many yards from her. When she seemed to realize that it had stopped and wasn’t making any advances towards her, she moved towards it curiously. She skittered around it for a long while, seeming wary of getting closer to me, but it was apparently appealing to her, since she moved towards it.

After about half an hour, she stood in front of the apple, sniffing at it. She snorted some before she seemed to accept that it was okay to eat. She lipped it into her mouth, crunching through the skin of the apple and spraying juice out of the corner of her mouth. I almost couldn’t hold back my laughter at the expression I swore she wore as she ate it. It was pure contentedness.

Then she seemed to remember how close I was to her. She jumped away from me so fast she threw dust into my face. I coughed, waving my hand in an attempt to get it away from me. My eyes stung as I started to stand, wincing some. I couldn’t help but smile though, thinking, Well, she’s going to be difficult alright. But, she’s mine and we’ll both look back on this and laugh.