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Description

Thistle's on patrol, ahaha!!

~

PREVIOUSLY | NEXT

One set of equid ears swung, in silent harmony, pinning themselves to skull as Thistle stared down the Carpendaler with a menacing air about him. He had been watching the big black colt meander innocently, swaying ever closer to the passive molly Booya as he grazed under the setting Mojave sun. Movement like that was pointed, and the more herd savvy of the horses at pasture knew it --Thistle perhaps, most of all.

Though his right ear remained glued to his head, the palomino allowed his left to flick forward, like a fluffy yellow radar dish. He may have had his lips on the dusty ground, but his full attention was fixated heavily on the seemingly oblivious Snow.

Chengo had established himself as leader of their little herd. That much was made clear every time a new equine entered or exited the paddock. After all, a well established structure was important to any healthy, happy horse. Thistle's place happened to fall just below Chengo, as he'd spent the first six years of his life in the dusty Eastern Oregon wilderness. Age and experience gave him the means to obtain and enforce this position, though to be fair, he didn't have much competition from Monkey, who was coltish and relatively inexperienced with natural herd hierarchy --or Booya, who had possibly one of the most placid mannerisms of all the mollies in North America.

Things had gotten a little tossed up when Snow had been introduced into the mix, however. Given that the colt had come fresh from the unforgiving wilds of Norway, he was fairly herd savvy and honed to pick up the little things most horses who had spent a life in captivity would miss. Add a streak of stubbornness, impressive bulk, and a dominance issue to the mix... Thistle felt reasonably tempted to put the youngster in his place at every waking opportunity.

Snow's head came up a foot or so, and his upper lip shot out to brush against Booya's gaskin. The gesture had the molly's haunch twitching, though she gave no other implication of particular distaste or disagreement as she continued, unabated, in her quest for food. Snow took that as encouragement, and he raised his head higher to rub his forehead against the mule's flank, ears swinging forwards. The gesture read as playful, but Thistle knew better. The palomino brought his own head up to stare with his ears flush against his skull, finding that he was no longer interested in grazing.

Snow sidestepped himself as he rolled his head against the snowcapped molly's hide, bringing him nearly broadside to the Booya. She turned a brown eye up briefly to look at him, though she stamped the ground with a back hoof to signal disapproval when she saw him start to rock back onto his own.

The half-hearted attempt at mock mounting was all it took for Thistle to lunge. His ears strained hard against his skull as he reached out with his teeth to bite the colt square on his thick haunches, sending the surprised pair bolting apart. Distantly, he was aware of Chengo's lifted gaze, though he continued after the squealing colt without thought, intent on giving him a well-earned lesson on where he stood.

Snow took a few crow hops, throwing bucks back at Thistle every other stride as the two of them made a racket of grunts and screams, though he was not quite brave enough to face the palomino and go chest to chest with him.

After all, part of being herd savvy meant knowing when to retreat.

~

Left --> Right

Thistle and Snow .

~

Medium: Artrage.
RL Time: About 8 hours.
Inspiration: Vague introductions, things, stuff, yay, horses, Thistle's a butt, Snow's a butt, no fun for Snow, I keep calling him Night Arrest instead of his barn name what's up with that, also no cacti in this WIP.
References: Used the horse on the right .

TAG Demons In My Yeah & TAG Night Arrest (c) Me

TAG (c) Me
Art (c) Me

Description

Thistle's on patrol, ahaha!!

~

PREVIOUSLY | NEXT

One set of equid ears swung, in silent harmony, pinning themselves to skull as Thistle stared down the Carpendaler with a menacing air about him. He had been watching the big black colt meander innocently, swaying ever closer to the passive molly Booya as he grazed under the setting Mojave sun. Movement like that was pointed, and the more herd savvy of the horses at pasture knew it --Thistle perhaps, most of all.

Though his right ear remained glued to his head, the palomino allowed his left to flick forward, like a fluffy yellow radar dish. He may have had his lips on the dusty ground, but his full attention was fixated heavily on the seemingly oblivious Snow.

Chengo had established himself as leader of their little herd. That much was made clear every time a new equine entered or exited the paddock. After all, a well established structure was important to any healthy, happy horse. Thistle's place happened to fall just below Chengo, as he'd spent the first six years of his life in the dusty Eastern Oregon wilderness. Age and experience gave him the means to obtain and enforce this position, though to be fair, he didn't have much competition from Monkey, who was coltish and relatively inexperienced with natural herd hierarchy --or Booya, who had possibly one of the most placid mannerisms of all the mollies in North America.

Things had gotten a little tossed up when Snow had been introduced into the mix, however. Given that the colt had come fresh from the unforgiving wilds of Norway, he was fairly herd savvy and honed to pick up the little things most horses who had spent a life in captivity would miss. Add a streak of stubbornness, impressive bulk, and a dominance issue to the mix... Thistle felt reasonably tempted to put the youngster in his place at every waking opportunity.

Snow's head came up a foot or so, and his upper lip shot out to brush against Booya's gaskin. The gesture had the molly's haunch twitching, though she gave no other implication of particular distaste or disagreement as she continued, unabated, in her quest for food. Snow took that as encouragement, and he raised his head higher to rub his forehead against the mule's flank, ears swinging forwards. The gesture read as playful, but Thistle knew better. The palomino brought his own head up to stare with his ears flush against his skull, finding that he was no longer interested in grazing.

Snow sidestepped himself as he rolled his head against the snowcapped molly's hide, bringing him nearly broadside to the Booya. She turned a brown eye up briefly to look at him, though she stamped the ground with a back hoof to signal disapproval when she saw him start to rock back onto his own.

The half-hearted attempt at mock mounting was all it took for Thistle to lunge. His ears strained hard against his skull as he reached out with his teeth to bite the colt square on his thick haunches, sending the surprised pair bolting apart. Distantly, he was aware of Chengo's lifted gaze, though he continued after the squealing colt without thought, intent on giving him a well-earned lesson on where he stood.

Snow took a few crow hops, throwing bucks back at Thistle every other stride as the two of them made a racket of grunts and screams, though he was not quite brave enough to face the palomino and go chest to chest with him.

After all, part of being herd savvy meant knowing when to retreat.

~

Left --> Right

Thistle and Snow .

~

Medium: Artrage.
RL Time: About 8 hours.
Inspiration: Vague introductions, things, stuff, yay, horses, Thistle's a butt, Snow's a butt, no fun for Snow, I keep calling him Night Arrest instead of his barn name what's up with that, also no cacti in this WIP.
References: Used the horse on the right .

TAG Demons In My Yeah & TAG Night Arrest (c) Me

TAG (c) Me
Art (c) Me