The horse they called King

Dahlia scrolled through yet another page full of horse adverts. The site was sketchy at best, but she'd determined that she was in the right place to take on a project or a rescue. Kalinka needed a horsey companion- Dahlia didn't know when he'd last lived with another horse. In his prior home he at best could socialize through the stables bars. Now, he was often in contact with the horses owned by the neighbors, but that couldn't replace a constant friend. Navi was good, but she was no horse.

So here Dahlia was, having traveled to earth to sit in the next best bar and scroll endlessly.

She finally left when her head ached and her body was sore from sitting on the uncomfortable chairs. 

There was one reason why she'd chosen this place- it was show season and the city boasted a large arena that was now continuously bustling with horses and riders of all kinds. One weekend there were the low to mid level shows, the next one drew in far more advanced riders and so on. 

Dahlia figured that, at the end of some weekend, she'd eventually find someone who was about to give up their horse. A pony that had been outgrown, a horse that had become old and saw its final showing season, a jumper that sustained an injury that made him unsound to show for a long time or for ever, a horse whose vet bills loomed above its owners. There were many reasons to sell a horse.

Her persistant search eventually led her to a black stallion standing by one of the endless rows of stalls. What had drawn her interest initially was his breed. She was preferably looking for another Loshenka. He had entered the arena and she recognized a familiar long tail alongside a lack of mane. Then, she took note of the under muscled body and tack that reminded her of what she'd seen in old pictures of Kalinka. The black stallion was tense, eyes angled with his stare strained and going into nothingness. His neck was bent behind the vertical as he struggled to perform what was asked of him. Sweat and foam ran from his body in amounts way too high for the mild, near cold weather. 

He had a young rider, possibly on his first own horse. A stallion, of all things. 

Their performance was laborious, once it was over Dahlia caught a glimpse of the rider dismounting and dragging the stallion behind him. That was all that Dahlia could see from her spot. She quickly left the stands and began to search. Maybe this approach would be too forward; she'd have to discern it once she got a grasp of what exactly was going on. Maybe they weren't open to possibly selling their horse or he was a lease. But it was worth a try. 

They were already gone from the arenas exit when Dahlia got there. They couldn't have gotten that far. Instead of searching on and on, Dahlia took to asking around. After a bit she found the stallion as he was being untacked. She decided to approach and ask about the horse. The rider was younger than shed expected and grappling with a mixture of emotions. Dahlia struck up a conversation.

He had big aspirations and found his horse King wasn't up to the task, lamenting on how much he loved the stallion but that he needed another. There already were new plans in place for the duo with widely different paths mapped out. They were about to leave the country for at least a few years, but wouldn't sell the stallion. He was to stay, managed like he'd always been. Dahlia pried some more and found that King had a very large stall, but little turnout nor neighbors as the barn was incapable or incompetent to cater to a stallion.

Now that King's owners would be gone, there was no one to ride King anymore and they didn't want to entrust him to another. He'd spend almost all his days in that box, but his young owner had been assured it would be alright.

The owner then began excitedly talking about their plans for their new life overseas. His father was to get a much more high paying job there so the entire family was set to leave for good. Since the rider wanted to move up anyways, they'd procured a well seasoned mare in that country and she was just waiting for her new rider. He admitted that he preferred a stallion or gelding, but the mare had the best credentials to take him where he wanted to be. 

Dahlia trailed off when listening to the young man rambling. She used the chance to get a somewhat closer look at the stallion, answering his owner with the occasional "oh really?" and "that's so nice!". 

King was black with two small socks on his hind legs and but a small, slightly swirling facemarking. His eyes were deep brown and anything but lively. Dahlia wanted to reach out and pet him, but she felt like his owner wouldn't be happy to have a total stranger touch his horse. She could make out that the stallion had small spots on his face, likely also on other parts of his body, but she couldn't really tell beneath a sheen of sweat and foam under less than optimal lighting.

The rider was now laying out their plans for King. Theyd return for visits here and there, to check in on King and the stablehands were tasked with his daily care. 

King's owners were ready to leave. Dahlias attempt at barely broaching the subject of changing King's husbandry while they were gone was met with great resistance. Dahlia had a few choice words in mind, but figured the young rider wasn't the one calling the shots. He just didn't know better and having her lecture him wasn't likely to lead anywhere. She insisted on giving them her contact information, just in case they were looking for someone to take on the stallion after all. 

That was all she was able to do for the stallion. He'd never looked up to scan his surroundings, had never acknowledged his rider with the exception of threatening a bite or kick when the girth was tampered with. Dahlia left with a knot in her stomach. She worried what would become of the stallion. She’d have to worm her way into checking with them without applying too much pressure. If they decided to cut her off, all chance of getting to him would be gone.

Another winter had passed and Dahlia had not received any major updates regarding King, although his owners had agreed to keep her in the loop. But she worried still. She really wanted to help King, knowing him alone, sat in a stall day in and out weighed on her. He had already looked so sad back then. 

At the same time Kalinka still needed a friend. Dahlia had considered lending a Loshenka from family or friends, but the few that had been imported to their world were tied up in one way or another. Frequent visits and occasional day long stays from them were the best that could be done. Dahlia considered to just go and find another Loshenka for sale, or scoop up any other fitting horse, filling up the capacity she could muster. There was no way she was able to take on two rescues at once. Maybe buying a well cared for one to definitely have a companion was the best route. Then if King ever opened up for sale, Dahlia would still be able to pay him the attention he needed. Shopping for just that proved difficult in its own way. If she was to look for the perfect, full fledged companion that was. It had to be a full grown stallion of amicable nature and preferably with some stamina already. First and foremost he was meant to roam alongside Kalinka, so a horse for show homes only was out by default. 

Headache inducing, that's what it was. Inquire here, phone there and realize that some horses are way out of your price range while at it. Not to mention, her heart was quite set on the sad, black stallion.

Was there really no way to push for King some more? She settled on occasionally trying to ask his owners about their current horse. They were over the moon with the mare and all too happy to tell all about it. Likely due to some sort of courtesy, King's owner in return inquired about how Dahlia's horse was doing. They'd never asked this before, only knowing that she called a stallion her own as well. Now, would they take a video of Kalinka frolicking through a clearing as some sort of critique towards the way they were keeping King? Dahlia eventually decided on just a photo of Kalinka sleeping in the barn. If she did come to own King, she could eventually send them a video of him running free. Maybe that would be a little mean. A little vindictive even. 

The photo prompted a conversation about how difficult it was for them to keep weight on horses. Their mare however looked perfectly fine in a recent video- which meant that King was the one struggling. Back at the show he'd been undermusceled, but not underweight. Dahlia gave them a few tips about feed and the conversation died soon after. She decided to casually ask them about how things were going in about a week.

Four days later she got a message and had to give it a double read.

They wanted to sell King after all. The reasons were not specified which worried Dahlia, but she agreed right away. Buying blind was never a good idea and here it definitely wasn't, but Dahlia wouldn't risk spoiling this opportunity by poking around too much. Once he was hers, she could ask all she wanted. And if they cut contact it wouldn't matter. The sale was completed online, King's papers waiting alongside him for pickup. His now former owners couldn't be there.

She borrowed a trailer from her family's nearby ranch and went on to harass multiple departments of the local government. Yes they needed to prepare quarantine asap. Yes she had to get a portal opened right away. No it didn't matter that it was the middle of the night. She absolutely was about to import a foreign species and no, she did not have time to and would not file whatever document at whatever office that opened in eight hours. She would go now.

Finally, Dahlia made it through the trials and tribulations of governmental organization and found herself driving down an empty road. It was night here too, around 3 am when she reached the address she'd been given. The yard was quiet and dark, a single lamp on a small house being the only light far and wide.  Dahlia had been informed that the stablemaster lived there and that she could get the papers and everything from him. Instead of waking him up as well, she decided to look for King on her own. He was in immediate reach and she didn't need anyone helping her right away. Dahlia strolled through the dark and silent barns. Not being human came with its perks- her eyes allowed her to see without having to whip out a flashlight. Other than that, she looked perfectly human. Not her favorite form but still, she was glad it existed.

The horses were asleep, dozed off or just resting. It was far from feeding time and they didnt feel prompted to react in any major way. Dahlia remembered that King was kept alone. So far, the barns had been nice and open for the horses to socialize.

After some searching she reached a barn that was half new, half old. The new half had been built to connect to the old one and was vastly different. Open, spacious, a high ceiling and windows to let in light.

They had not torn down the walls between the barns. What had once been an outer, windowless facade was now nicely painted. Its door was a low, dark hole, made even darker by the dull color of its wood. Above that was another small door, access to a hayloft. Dahlia didn't like this one bit. She pushed open the door, revealing that really only the facade of this part had gotten an overhaul. The hinges protested the movement and once Dahlia had pushed through, the door fell shut instantly, only muffled by her quickly catching the inner handle. She frowned and let go, turning towards the aisle. 

Dust floated in the stagnant air. It was deathly quiet. No occasional huffing or snorting, tail swishing or stomping. Nothing. This bit of the barn was short and its ceiling low. It had space for three boxes on each side, made up by the classic walls of wood topped with iron bars. The right hand side was empty and clearly had been for a long time. Dust had settled onto the iron and now thickly clung to it. On the left, the parting walls had been torn out. Was this really the nice stall the young rider had mentioned? Or had King been moved afterwards? 

Even though he lived there, his side was just as covered in grimy dust as the rest of the claustrophobic room. The windows were small and dirty. Had it been day, the space wouldn't have been much brighter.

In a corner stood King. Facing the wall, just as inanimate as his surroundings. Dahlia took in a first impression and cursed. For a moment she felt as if she too had become unable to move. Once it passed she managed to find the light switch. The light flickered and labored to come to life and finally settled on a dim glimmer. Better than nothing.

He'd become part of this place, he'd withered away alongside it. Its dust had settled on his thin body.

He didn't react to her presence. Dahlia wondered for how long he'd really been declining before this. They needed to get out.  But would the black stallion follow? This was all he'd known for a way too long time. Dahlia wouldn't leave without him. She slipped through the door and carefully approached him, pulling a wrapper and some treats from one pocket of her cargo pants and a halter out of another. The lead was slung around her waist. Halter and wrapper in one hand and treats in the other, she stopped just out of his reach. He didn't take any note of her presence. She rustled the wrapper in her hand. A timeless classic. Something glistened in his eye and he slightly turned his head. He faced her direction, yet he did not really look at his visitor. She crinkled the wrapper again in an attempt to draw his attention to the treats. For a few moments, the stallion was still, as if he'd once more lost himself somewhere far away. But the scent of food eventually reached some part of him, enough to snap out of his paralysis and to carefully take a treat. He then quickly finished the remaining ones. Dahlia reached closer to see how he felt about her being in his personal space. He didn't react. Instead, she saw him slip away again. 

She placed her hand on his thin neck and began to pet him. Little by little, his gaze softened and some life seemed to return to him. Subtly, but undeniably there.

A memory, a feeling as distant as a dream after waking.

He had been loved before.

In a daze made of sticky dust and stale air, someone reached for him.

Dahlia promised him that he was safe now. She carefully put the halter on him and asked for him to follow. 

He hesitated for a bit, his body had to get used to the notion of moving again. He had to gather some of the strength this place had drawn from him to finally take the first step. Then another. Soon, they reached the door. He slowly broke away from the lifeless scene and left behind the inanimate objects to which he'd become so alike. 

With each step his body shed more of its cold and deeply rooted stiffness. Not all of it, but enough. 

Soon fresh air filled his lungs, cool and reviving. A chilling wind blew and it carried away some of the dirt on his back. 

His mind had yet to leave that dark corner. One day soon he'd realize it was far away now, never to reach for his light ever again.

He did not see the stars above, but Dahlia did. They had named him King. She vowed to change that asap. Now looking up, her eyes found the sign of Orion watching over them. She smiled. "I've got a much better name for you."