The morning had come with a warmth to the air which was welcomed. At first, clouds had obscured the rays of the Central Fire, but soon they were burned away and the warmth increased and began to melt away the last vestiges of the flurries of the previous day. A breath of spring could be felt. A breath that brought new life into the land and into the people. As she walked towards the pens, she saw people stirring, working on wagons, making small preparations for the upcoming trek back to the southern grasses. It all brought a lift to her spirits. A much needed lift.
The pens were already awake and there was a hum of activity as the keepers and breeders went about their work. A first stop was made at what they called the breeding pen, the place where the mares that were near dropping were kept. She had concerns for a few, that she feared would not give birth before the move, but for the most part, all were well.
Today is the day she would ring Ciegue. Much thought had gone into this, and she knew that some would think her crazy again, but she had plans to do the ringing in a different fashion. Traditionally, kaiila are ringed through the right nostril. Reins are run through that ring and this was the means for guiding the beast. A tug to the right sent it in that direction, then to go left, the reins were brought over the head to the left side, and a tug given. But this was the way of a normal beast, and Ciegue was not quite normal. Often when the reins were brought across, for the briefest of moments the vision on that right side would be obscured, that would not be an advantage for the animal, for that was his only sight. She had lay awake in the darkness of the past few nights pondering the beast, Fonce, what had happened. She still had an uneasy feeling about it all, but had tried to push it away. And in the long nights, she had come up with an idea, one that some would consider madness,but so be it.
In her hand, she held two rings. Her plan was to ring the beast in both nostrils, to have reins on both sides. To her, it was the only acceptable way. It would mean she would have to make adjustments to how she rode him, but in her heart she knew this would happen. She had even thought of no rings, to just fashioning a leather halter of sorts, but had decided against this route. Since most of the clan still thought the animal should be put down, she had asked Rook if he would help her with the chore, and as usual, he did not deny her. Maybe the old man had more faith in her, than she had in herself at the present. When she climbed through the rail, she just stood looking at the black beast across the pen. As if there was a silent communication, he turned to his sighted side and looked at her, and without hesitation approached her. She did not have to chase him down as she would another beast, he simply came to her. Slipping the rope over his neck, she spoke to him in low tones and tied him to the rail.
Rook stepped beside her with the punch. It was one that her father had the metal workers made many turnings ago. He had used it, he had taught her how to ring her first beast with it, and had given it to her upon her acceptance into the clan. It was a rather wicked looking tool, but served the purpose well. Rook asked if she wanted him to do it, and the dark head shakes. She would do it, she only needed him to hold the head steady, which was going to be the most difficult part, seeing as how she intended to do it not once, but twice. Her brother Gabe joined them, and without a word, stepped up to help.
As they held the head steady, she still spoke in low tones to the animal as she prepared the tool, slipping the two pieces of the ring onto the arms. Taking the flesh of his nostril, she placed it between the two sharpened pinchers, then with that strength that was in her arms, brought then together piercing the flesh. Quickly she reached to place her fingers on the inside portion of the ring, then the tool was withdrawn, and she reached for the small plate of metal, slipping it to the inside of the nostril, then pounded the outside portion of the ring, joining the two sides together. The ring was fashioned in two pieces, a lip on the outer ring fitting into a groove on the inner portion, fitting together tightly.
Cigue tried to rear to his hind legs at he pain, tossing his head back, but was held firmly by Rook and Gabriel. This was the easy part, the hard part was doing it the second time. Usually, at his point, a quick application of salve was put around the ring and the beast was allowed to run free to adjust itself to the pain and the ring. It would not be so with Ciegue. The process had to be done on the other side. He snapped at her, the fangs actually catching the top of her ear, but not badly, just enough so that she would wear a memento of this moment on that ear for the remainder of her life.
A crowd had gathered at the rail, and two more of the outriders had crawled between the rails to help when they saw what her intent was. Ciegue was restrained and she stepped to the other side to repeat her actions. Never before has ringing a beast bothered her, but never before has she had to put them through that pain twice. Working quickly, and efficiently the process was repeated, and elicited a growl from the animal, almost a howl of pain. She could probably relate to this more than any of the men could, for it was not unlike that first night she had come to the fires and Silken and Tarra had affixed her own ring. It hurt.
They held him long enough for her to liberally apply salve to the nostrils, then she called for them to let him go. Stepping back, she was prepared for what happened. When he was released, again he reared, clawing at them all, fangs snapping, then he turned and bolted to the other side of the pen, dipping his head from time to time to rub his nose on his chest. Gathering the tools, she climbed back through the rails and turned to watch him. A day or two would pass before she would put the reins to the rings for the first time. She had hopes that his memory would be short, and that he would allow her near within that time. If not, then it was going to be a long, drawn out affair.
The pens were already awake and there was a hum of activity as the keepers and breeders went about their work. A first stop was made at what they called the breeding pen, the place where the mares that were near dropping were kept. She had concerns for a few, that she feared would not give birth before the move, but for the most part, all were well.
Today is the day she would ring Ciegue. Much thought had gone into this, and she knew that some would think her crazy again, but she had plans to do the ringing in a different fashion. Traditionally, kaiila are ringed through the right nostril. Reins are run through that ring and this was the means for guiding the beast. A tug to the right sent it in that direction, then to go left, the reins were brought over the head to the left side, and a tug given. But this was the way of a normal beast, and Ciegue was not quite normal. Often when the reins were brought across, for the briefest of moments the vision on that right side would be obscured, that would not be an advantage for the animal, for that was his only sight. She had lay awake in the darkness of the past few nights pondering the beast, Fonce, what had happened. She still had an uneasy feeling about it all, but had tried to push it away. And in the long nights, she had come up with an idea, one that some would consider madness,but so be it.
In her hand, she held two rings. Her plan was to ring the beast in both nostrils, to have reins on both sides. To her, it was the only acceptable way. It would mean she would have to make adjustments to how she rode him, but in her heart she knew this would happen. She had even thought of no rings, to just fashioning a leather halter of sorts, but had decided against this route. Since most of the clan still thought the animal should be put down, she had asked Rook if he would help her with the chore, and as usual, he did not deny her. Maybe the old man had more faith in her, than she had in herself at the present. When she climbed through the rail, she just stood looking at the black beast across the pen. As if there was a silent communication, he turned to his sighted side and looked at her, and without hesitation approached her. She did not have to chase him down as she would another beast, he simply came to her. Slipping the rope over his neck, she spoke to him in low tones and tied him to the rail.
Rook stepped beside her with the punch. It was one that her father had the metal workers made many turnings ago. He had used it, he had taught her how to ring her first beast with it, and had given it to her upon her acceptance into the clan. It was a rather wicked looking tool, but served the purpose well. Rook asked if she wanted him to do it, and the dark head shakes. She would do it, she only needed him to hold the head steady, which was going to be the most difficult part, seeing as how she intended to do it not once, but twice. Her brother Gabe joined them, and without a word, stepped up to help.
As they held the head steady, she still spoke in low tones to the animal as she prepared the tool, slipping the two pieces of the ring onto the arms. Taking the flesh of his nostril, she placed it between the two sharpened pinchers, then with that strength that was in her arms, brought then together piercing the flesh. Quickly she reached to place her fingers on the inside portion of the ring, then the tool was withdrawn, and she reached for the small plate of metal, slipping it to the inside of the nostril, then pounded the outside portion of the ring, joining the two sides together. The ring was fashioned in two pieces, a lip on the outer ring fitting into a groove on the inner portion, fitting together tightly.
Cigue tried to rear to his hind legs at he pain, tossing his head back, but was held firmly by Rook and Gabriel. This was the easy part, the hard part was doing it the second time. Usually, at his point, a quick application of salve was put around the ring and the beast was allowed to run free to adjust itself to the pain and the ring. It would not be so with Ciegue. The process had to be done on the other side. He snapped at her, the fangs actually catching the top of her ear, but not badly, just enough so that she would wear a memento of this moment on that ear for the remainder of her life.
A crowd had gathered at the rail, and two more of the outriders had crawled between the rails to help when they saw what her intent was. Ciegue was restrained and she stepped to the other side to repeat her actions. Never before has ringing a beast bothered her, but never before has she had to put them through that pain twice. Working quickly, and efficiently the process was repeated, and elicited a growl from the animal, almost a howl of pain. She could probably relate to this more than any of the men could, for it was not unlike that first night she had come to the fires and Silken and Tarra had affixed her own ring. It hurt.
They held him long enough for her to liberally apply salve to the nostrils, then she called for them to let him go. Stepping back, she was prepared for what happened. When he was released, again he reared, clawing at them all, fangs snapping, then he turned and bolted to the other side of the pen, dipping his head from time to time to rub his nose on his chest. Gathering the tools, she climbed back through the rails and turned to watch him. A day or two would pass before she would put the reins to the rings for the first time. She had hopes that his memory would be short, and that he would allow her near within that time. If not, then it was going to be a long, drawn out affair.
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