Phase 1 - Calm before the Storm

By the time Abi got out to the action house which was set up for Loshenka Makeover allocations the sun hovered in the sky just barely peeking past the morning clouds casting a soft glow. A light breeze rolled through the lot, tugging gently at lead ropes and sun faded corners of old action flyers plastered along the building.

The soft rumble of the truck came to a halt as Abi turned the vehicle off. The young woman stepped out of the truck, boots hitting packed dirt that has been haunted by the hundreds of hooves before her.

The auction house was a chaotic frenzy, horse filled with nervous energy, people shouting and shoving. 

Somewhere to the left, a handler shouted over the clatter of hooves on a trailer ramp, trying to urge a pale blue mare into an old rusted trailer smelling of the many before her. Another Loshenka, black and coated in sweat, rearing at the end of a lead rope held taught. The crowd pressed in close to pens of horses who appeared to be a challenge. Abi stayed on the outskirts of the frenzy. Watching. Calculating. 

She wasn't here for the flashy horses this time.

~All those she told about entering this event said she lost her mind. Many said she couldn't handle a “broken shut down horse”. This made her determined, wanting to prove them wrong all while giving a horse a chance at a new beginning. ~

Abi wove her way through the maze of horse pens and people - strike black and bays catching her eye amongst the shades of blue and red. Many with dapples and flashy markings, the kind that make heads turn twice to catch a better look. Beautiful creatures, sure. But none pulled at her heart strings.

She glanced around the lot once more, nothing catching and holding her eye. 

Until, there, across the chaos of trailers and hooves, a field. Not very large, no fancy fencing, just some strings tied into bushes and trees. But in the middle of the field a chestnut stallion.

He wasn’t pacing like the many other horses in small pens. He was just.. There. Along his side climbed white peaks, Cordillera, the marking that made it look like mountains raced along his body.

Abi noticed only a halter, no ID tag.

No one around him… Why was he alone?

Abi didn’t know what drew her to him. She found herself walking towards him. Her feet moving of their own accord. She approached with caution as if any sudden movement or noise would break the calmness.

The closer she got to the lone stallion, the more striking his markings became. The white of the Cordillera stretching across his sides like a snow-kissed mountain range, rising against the coppery tones of his chestnut coat. He stood there with a stillness that wasn't peace, but defeat. Watching with a distant gaze.

Abi reached the makeshift fencing, resting her hand on the frayed rope, piercing blue eyes focused on the stallion.

Something about him felt… broken, fractured in millions of pieces. Like shattered glass.

“I wouldn't stand there too long”

The voice came from behind her, rough, sharp and unkind. One of the workers approached with dust coated in every creavis of his clothes. Coming to stand beside her, glazing warily at the stallion.

“That one there is trouble.”

Abi didn’t dare look away from the defeated looking stallion.. Is this defeated look a facade?

“ What sort of trouble?”

A rough sound came from the man, a laugh of sorts.

“Like a werewolf, the sort of trouble that waits till the sun is down and the moon high in the sky.”

The man tilts his head towards the stallion,

“That beast lashes out at night. Spooking at shadows that aren't even there. His previous owners dumped him after having multiple accidents. One leaving their daughter in a wheelchair for months.”

The man took a deep breath, letting it out in a sigh.

“We’ve all come to learn to keep our distance after dusk.”

The man glances at Abi, 

“He’s a different beast after dark, miss. I’d steer clear if I was you.”

Abi didn’t say a thing, lost in her thoughts.

She studied the stallion, standing alone seeming to wait for the worst.

For the first time that day something pulled at her heartstrings.

The stallion, since she approached, finally picked his head up and looked in her direction, it was like a whisper of breath passing between them, connecting the pair.

Abi faced the worker,

“I’ll be taking him home”