[Trade] Waterfall Foes

The trouble with flipping horses was that sometimes they didn’t flip well. You invested the cost of acquiring and caring for the horse, the time to train and keep them healthy, but there was never any surefire guarantee that you’d profit from it. Some horses up and died on you, inevitably you’d end up keeping one or two over the years, and, worst of all, some just wouldn’t sell. Red Wolf, a chestnut Loshenka stallion with eye-catching pangare markings, was one such horse. 

At 17.1 hands, Red Wolf towered above the average horse. He had muscles for days, a confirmation to die for, effortless, comfortable gaits, a beautiful flowing tail to go with his stunning chestnut coat, and the attitude of a feral wolf that had just gotten salt poured into a painful wound. If Red Wolf had shown that side of himself at the auction yard, Rick wouldn’t have touched the horse with a ten-foot pole. 

As it was, Rick had been tricked by the horse and brought him home. Maybe the sale barn had drugged him to get him sold, wouldn’t have been the first time. Whatever had made it so that Rick was stuck with the obnoxious stallion, though, it was what had led him to be abandoned in the middle of the woods with a blizzard on the way and no clue where his horse had gotten to after dumping him. 

“I should dump this horse in the pipeline to Canada,” Rick grumbled to himself, pushing through a clump of low-hanging branches. “At least I’d get a good price per pound so I could make back the damn money I wasted on him.” Rick would never have really sold a horse into the slaughter pipeline, not even one as unmanageable as Red Wolf, but threatening the horse with it helped ease the frustration of the situation.

Once he was through the tangle of branches, the path ahead opened up and he could hear the increasing sound of water - a lot of water. From the volume of it, the water was moving quickly, too. After a few more minutes of walking, Rick found not only the source of the sound but also his missing horse. The irritated man opened his mouth to call for his mount when he realized that Red Wolf wasn’t there alone. Standing in a shallow part of the river, a stunning blossom-colored tobiano horse stared at Red Wolf and pawed at the water in challenge. A fight between stallions was absolutely not on the agenda for the evening, especially not when Red Wolf was beginning to prance around on the river bank like he was going to enter the water with all of Rick’s tack on. 

“WOLF!” Rick yelled, picking up a jog. “C’mere!” The man tried to keep the agitation out of his voice, but Red Wolf made it damn near impossible. By some miracle of God, the stallion listened to him for once. Nostrils flaring, feet stepping high, tail swishing in irritation, Red Wolf made his way to his handler. He stopped before Rick with his body at full height. There wasn’t a relaxed muscle in the creature’s body. 

“Easy boy,” Rick said, holding his hands up calmly as he closed the gap between him and the horse. An ear-splitting whinny sounded from the direction of the other stallion, audible even over the roar of the waterfall just up the stream. Rick chanced a glance in the unknown horse’s direction. The water forced the horse to move slowly, but it had begun heading toward Rick and Red Wolf. How could such an angelic-looking horse be so hot-headed? Moving quickly, the man secured Red Wolf’s reins, grabbed the saddle horn, shoved his boot in the stirrup, and, with a bit of effort, swung into the saddle. He barely had his other foot in stirrup before Red Wolf spun around and half reared at the approaching stallion. As much as Rick would like to be able to grab the other horse and take it into town to find an owner, it didn’t look like an option at the moment. 

“Easy, boy. Easy now.” Rick tried to soothe the horse and keep his balance at the same time but was only successful at the latter. The blossom stallion had now reached the bank and was rapidly approaching them. Rick wasn’t in the mood to be on a horse that was going to fight with another one. When Red Wolf began to pull against the reins to try and take off toward the other stallion, Rick wheeled him around and urged him into a gallop away from the approaching stallion. 

The clatter of hooves on the rocky river bank let him know that they were still being pursued, but Red Wolf’s long strides quickly ate at the ground, putting distance between them and the other, smaller horse. Rick urged him to keep going, and when they saw a light in the distance, he pushed the horse toward it. The other stallion was far behind them, but still chasing with everything it had. 

Approaching the source of the light, Rick realized it was a small farm. He slowed Red Wolf to a quick trot and directed him toward the barn. 

“Hello?” He called out. “Anyone missing a horse?” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the blossom stallion approaching. A head popped out of the front door of the nearby house, and Rick changed Red Wolf’s direction to approach the person. “Hey! There’s a loose stallion chasing after us,” he nodded in the direction of the approaching horse, “any chance it’s yours?” Red Wolf pranced in place, torn between obeying and turning to challenge the other stallion. 

“Nope, not ours,” the man said. “See him out there all the time, though. He likes the flowers that grow near the river. He probably didn’t want you near them. He’s an odd one, that horse.” As the stallion approached the farm, the old farmer stepped out with a broom in his hand and stood between Rick and Red Wolf and the other stallion. “Go on, you, get out of here!” Unconcerned at the horse’s rapid approach, he waved the broom at the animal and chased it off. The horse stopped at the edge of the property and turned back to snort loudly at them, but ultimately turned back the way it had come. 

“Lucky that horse of yours is faster than he is. I seen him take a bite outta the last one he caught. He’s nice enough to most people, but he’s not afraid to defend what he thinks is his.” 

Rick stroked Red Wolf’s sweat-dampened neck, watching the pretty horse retreat. If he didn’t already have one problem horse to deal with, he might’ve asked if the farmer knew it’s owner so Rick could have a conversation with them. 

“He’s a looker, that’s for sure, but you’re right about him being protective over that area.” Rick patted Red Wolf’s neck and leaned back in the saddle a bit. “Thank you for your help, I appreciate it.” He reached down to shake the farmer’s hand, then turned Red Wolf toward home and prayed that there wouldn’t be any more excitement along the way.