The taming of a lion

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Milton:
i sat in the pen, spine pressed against a pipe fencepost, watching my new horse in awe.
His grulla coat reflected the dusky rays of late afternoon sun as he lipped at a clump of bunchgrass outside of the srena, straining his elegant neck in order to reach. He wasn't tall, but he wasn't short, either. at least five years of running wild had given him a powerful, somewhat feral appreance, almost like one of the eternally wild Iberian horses that had gone into extinction long ago. though knotted, his mane and tail were long and flowing. if not for a few nasty scars across his back, and the slightly suspicious look in his eyes, he could have been the one true king of the wild mustangs.
but, of course, he wasn't. according to the BLM account, one which was sitting atop my desk, he had been in captivity for a year and a half. kept either in a small corrall with his herd of seven, or tied by a neck rope somewhere along the fenceline of the Corngutt spread, he wasn't wild anymore. i sighed, peeking out from under closed eyelids to see if the horse had walked any closer. surprisingly, he had- an elk thistle hanging from his lips, he gave me a curious glance before returning to consuming his spiny lunch. that was progress.

[phantomstallion94]

Caden:

after the clinic i had returned back to Berryhill to work out Happy Appy. my Quarter Horse/Appaloosa was strong, willful, fast, and calm. i led Dragonfly to the outdoor arena. i had put on his leather western bridle. i mounted up on the bay roan appaloosa's back and rode him out of the stable. i was going to be working bareback with Dragonfly. as we neared the outdoor arena i saw a grulla horse in the arena with no bridle or halter. i moved Dragonfly into a trot and then stopped him at the fence. i looked around for a person with the horse. "hallo, anyone here?" i asked. i looked around again and saw a man sitting on the ground. "howdy." i said, "can i come in?" i asked.

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Milton:
hearing a voice, i slowly pivoted my head, rearranging one vertabrae at a time, until i could discern Caden Buck's face peering down from his appaloosa at me. "Shhhhh...." i hissed, sneaking a pariphreal glance back at the grulla, who was approaching his saddle blanket warily. i had laid the traffic-light-green pad on the ground in the middle of the arena, and he was showing his ease in hs new home by sneaking over to investigate it. "I'm trying to get accquainted with himself," i said, gesturing softly at the stallion. "i've been out here for four hours today, and he's pretty much accepted my presence. now, i'm seeing how he reacts to synthetic materials."

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Milton:
Caden eventually left, and i took the opportunity to introduce more tack. that had been two hours ago. the sun was high in the clear sky, and i was watching my new horse sniff his saddle inquisitively. he gave it a particularly hard push, and the stirrups rattled, but he wasn't phased at all. Soon, he was checking out the bridle and a currycomb not far away. i shifted onto my back, deciding to wait until he was totally comfortable before progressing.

I sensed that someone was near me- very near. i suppose i had drifted off, and, as i slowly raised my eyelids, looked for the sun. but i couldn't see it- a whiskered nose was hovering over me, mere inches from my face. slowly, i opened my eyes fully to meet the gaze of a horse that was formerly a wild mustang herd stallion. it didn't phase him. somewhere in the back of my mind i knew this was a rather dangerous predicament, but it didn't quite register with me. i scooted a foot back, and then, slowly, rose into a crouch. the stallion still watched me with interest, andno fear. "eeeeeasy, boy," i whispered. his charcoal-colored ears swiveled to pick up my voice. slowly, i reached out a hand, fist tightly balled, and rested it on his neck. after a glance, he looked back to me, as if asking, then what? i spread out my fingers one by one, and then rubbed his neck. apparently somewhat used to humans, my horse sighed, put his head down, closed his eyes, and propped a aack hoof on its tip. i couldn't belive it- after only six hours or so, my new horse trusted me!

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two hours later, i was still debating what to do.
i knew very well that rome wasn't built in a day, but could a good relationship with a wild horse be built in one?
The grulla was now lipping sugar from my hand. i walked with him as he moseyed along the fenceline, scoping out the other horses. the gave him wary glances from their manicured paddocks, but he didn't seem at all hostile. just curious. i guess that, after being penned up with hardly any room at all, and much cruel treatment, for almost a year, he was happy to be in such a nice place. i swelled with pride- even horses enjoyed and appreciated my stables.
and, then, in a far pasture, a horse whinnied. that seemed to ignite something in him. ears pricked, he broke into a flowing jog, around and around the arena. he kept throwing me glances. "Do you want to run?" i asked him, under my breath. there wasn't much room in here. there was only one thing i could do- it would be the ultimate test of whether i had succeeded or failed.
i crossed to the smooth, white gate, the one that opened into the pasture, lifted the latch, and slowly eased it wide open.
my horse took off without a backwards glance. he flew like an osprey or falcon down the steady slope of the hill, kicking up his heels with the zeitgeist of beong free.
my horse was off like

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...a shot.
before i could finish my thought, the grulla stallion was kicking up divots two hilltops away. he slowed quickly, looking skyward before settling down to lip at the manicured grass. but that didn't last long; in the fading light, he took another voctiry sprint, off to the west. he ran along a pipe fence when he came to it, sparking the interest of a number of yearling cavorting across the barrier. i was almost too nervous to try to call him back, to see if her even noticed me. would i? no. i steeled myself for defeat. but i had to try; it was the mark of whether today was a success or failure. taking myself by surprise, i swiftly raised my fingers to my mouth and whistled.
ears made tiny by the distance swiveled in my direction. the stallion changed his course, slowing to a trot, his elegant yet matted mane leaving a contrail behind him. my horse seemed to consider the possibilities for a moment, and, then, made up his mind.
like a vision in the twilight, he trotted casually in my direction, intent on the handful of oats i had recently produced. upon reaching the corral, he jogged in with nonchalance, before sniffing out the treat sitting on my outstretched palm. he licked them up with a washcloth-like tongue, a move uncharacteristic for such a breathtakingly powerful stallion. then, to further back up my success, he rubbed his grey-brown forehead against my shoulder in an act of comraderie. fighting a giddy smile, i stroked his neck in return.
i had made a new friend today.