Ruadh lifted her head and walked to the edge of the corral. An awful racket sounded down the lane. A donkey brayed, bawling in pain; with it, a puppy screamed. Benjamin's flock of crows took flight at the sudden racket. Ears flicking, Ruadh calmly let herself out of the corral and trotted down the road, following the sounds.
The land where Benjamin lived had once been a huge, sprawling manor. Over time, the manor house had collapsed, the land left to go wild, some lots sold off as ranch homes and dairy farms. Closer to town, there was an upscale neighborhood with its back to the half-wild grounds.
Much had been forgotten, old structures still stood hidden in the woods. Ruadh could just make out a roof in the trees about a quarter mile from Benjamin's property, an abandoned hunter's hut a few yards away from the road in the brush.
"Ugly crows!" a girl snarled, and Ruadh skittered back as a BB gun fired several times among the birds. The matriarch screamed, scattering the flock for safety, but the old bird landed beside a younger bird who had been shot.
Ruadh's ears flicked. The little mustang had been born wild, and ill treated until Thorn had rescued the little herd destined for some European butcher. Patient and loving training had turned Ruadh's worst qualities to strengths. Fear had turned to bravery, and even anger when she heard that all too familiar pop and pump of BB gun.
The donkey screamed piteously, the sound reminding Ruadh of bad times on the prairie, when all she could do was run and run and run. Not this time. Ruadh gathered herself up and pushed through the brush, squealing and snorting anger.
"Aw! Horsie! How pretty!" a young girl cooed. Ruadh stopped short, finding herself before a small shed, mostly hidden in the brush. A beautiful little lass of thirteen or so, with lovely red ringlets of hair, a sweet little rosebud mouth, big brown eyes stood smiling at the mare. In a darling white dress splattered with blood.
Struggling in a wicked cat's cradle of old barbed wire and cord, a donkey brayed and wailed for help. Near the animal, a pup lay bleeding, too hurt and hopeless to even cry. The girl still held the BB gun in her daintily gloved hands.
"I wonder if your eyes pop when a BB hits them!" the girl giggled, lifting the gun. Ruadh
felt that old stab of fear, but she let it spur her into the fray that time. Letting out an jangling and bizarre warcry, the mustang sprang at the girl, hooves up and out, mowing the girl down in an instant.
The girl screamed pain and fury, trying to lift the BB gun once more. The old she crow launched at the girl, cawing furiously, pecking at her eyes and clawing her face. The girl managed to throw the crow aside, just as Ruadh turned to kick the girl with both hind hooves, throwing her across the little clearing like a rag doll.
The she-crow fluttered to Ruadh's head. The donkey stared at them. The pup tried to wag its tail. The injured crow staggered from the brush. Ruadh nattered to the old she crow. Bobbing her head and cawing, the bird fluttered away.
Moments later, Elsa came trotting into the clearing. The old otter hound looked over the scene, then gave a few quiet woofs, carefully picking the battered pup up in her jaws. She carried the animal to the stable, settling it carefully in a woolen blanket before going back.
The wounded crow was put beside the pup, and Elsa turned back to help Ruadh limp the donkey, still bound in the wire and cord, to the stable. The dog regarded Ruadh's rescues in some concern, laying down to lick the pup back to its senses, to try and soothe the crow. Ruadh stood alongside the donkey, biting at the cords as she could.
Their people would be there soon. It would all be taken care of.
The land where Benjamin lived had once been a huge, sprawling manor. Over time, the manor house had collapsed, the land left to go wild, some lots sold off as ranch homes and dairy farms. Closer to town, there was an upscale neighborhood with its back to the half-wild grounds.
Much had been forgotten, old structures still stood hidden in the woods. Ruadh could just make out a roof in the trees about a quarter mile from Benjamin's property, an abandoned hunter's hut a few yards away from the road in the brush.
"Ugly crows!" a girl snarled, and Ruadh skittered back as a BB gun fired several times among the birds. The matriarch screamed, scattering the flock for safety, but the old bird landed beside a younger bird who had been shot.
Ruadh's ears flicked. The little mustang had been born wild, and ill treated until Thorn had rescued the little herd destined for some European butcher. Patient and loving training had turned Ruadh's worst qualities to strengths. Fear had turned to bravery, and even anger when she heard that all too familiar pop and pump of BB gun.
The donkey screamed piteously, the sound reminding Ruadh of bad times on the prairie, when all she could do was run and run and run. Not this time. Ruadh gathered herself up and pushed through the brush, squealing and snorting anger.
"Aw! Horsie! How pretty!" a young girl cooed. Ruadh stopped short, finding herself before a small shed, mostly hidden in the brush. A beautiful little lass of thirteen or so, with lovely red ringlets of hair, a sweet little rosebud mouth, big brown eyes stood smiling at the mare. In a darling white dress splattered with blood.
Struggling in a wicked cat's cradle of old barbed wire and cord, a donkey brayed and wailed for help. Near the animal, a pup lay bleeding, too hurt and hopeless to even cry. The girl still held the BB gun in her daintily gloved hands.
"I wonder if your eyes pop when a BB hits them!" the girl giggled, lifting the gun. Ruadh
felt that old stab of fear, but she let it spur her into the fray that time. Letting out an jangling and bizarre warcry, the mustang sprang at the girl, hooves up and out, mowing the girl down in an instant.
The girl screamed pain and fury, trying to lift the BB gun once more. The old she crow launched at the girl, cawing furiously, pecking at her eyes and clawing her face. The girl managed to throw the crow aside, just as Ruadh turned to kick the girl with both hind hooves, throwing her across the little clearing like a rag doll.
The she-crow fluttered to Ruadh's head. The donkey stared at them. The pup tried to wag its tail. The injured crow staggered from the brush. Ruadh nattered to the old she crow. Bobbing her head and cawing, the bird fluttered away.
Moments later, Elsa came trotting into the clearing. The old otter hound looked over the scene, then gave a few quiet woofs, carefully picking the battered pup up in her jaws. She carried the animal to the stable, settling it carefully in a woolen blanket before going back.
The wounded crow was put beside the pup, and Elsa turned back to help Ruadh limp the donkey, still bound in the wire and cord, to the stable. The dog regarded Ruadh's rescues in some concern, laying down to lick the pup back to its senses, to try and soothe the crow. Ruadh stood alongside the donkey, biting at the cords as she could.
Their people would be there soon. It would all be taken care of.