CARRY ME ON [P]

[Donovan]

It was the sound that drew them. AJ heard it first, stopping so suddenly that he nearly got bowled over, frozen with the alertness of prey sensing a potential predator. “There’s something real big moving around over there, mate,” he whispered. It was Donovan who recognized the clatter of hooves on stone, the heavy blows and snorts of exertion. Ignoring the exclamations hissed after him, he ducked around a thick copse of trees, scattering water droplets everywhere as he pushed aside the slender branches. The ground fell away sharply from the ridge they’d been following, cutting down to one of the streams that were common in the foothills, runoff from the peaks above. With last night’s rain, the bank was muddy and treacherous, as the horse at the bottom had clearly discovered. Its distinctive brown and white markings were splattered with mud, its ears back as it made a lunge up the slope, only to scramble for a foothold as it slid back down. From twenty feet above, Donovan asked, “I don’t suppose you’re a person?” The ears flicked toward him at the sound, head following, but after a cursory sniff in his direction, the horse disregarded him as unimportant. “Of course not.” With a sigh, he shucked off his jacket. Silly creature had probably wandered down there looking for a drink. Why it had wandered from the easier grazing in the meadows was anyone’s guess, but horses did that sort of thing. One back home had a penchant for breaking out of its pasture to wander into town, of all things. AJ was looking at him askance. “What the blazes are ya doing?” “I can’t just leave it down there,” he shrugged. “The hell you can’t, we’re working!” he said, indignant. “We’re supposed to be at the border by nightfall!” Donovan frowned at him. “It’s cold, and wet, and windy. That horse will die if it’s left there. You go on ahead, set up camp, and I’ll catch up.” Taking the pack, he crouched to dig through it, pulling out a coil of rope, a couple carabiners, and an apple, pretending not to hear the outraged, “That’s mine!” Tossing the pack back to AJ, he turned to slide and scramble down the slope. A call of, “If you’re late I’m leaving without you,” followed him down. He hit the bottom some distance from the horse, which turned to look at him warily, hooves squelching as it shifted slightly. “Hey there, girl. Got yourself stuck, huh?” he soothed, cautiously picking his way over, avoiding the muddy trickle of water as best he could. “Hungry? Dunno how long you’ve been down here, lass, but an apple can never hurt, right?” Inching closer, he proffered the snack on a palm.

[Deleted]

Her daddy would have said that it was hog-killing weather, 'cause of the chill that bit into her bones. She knew that it would be even worse if she were a girl, her clothes soaked through and muddied. As a horse it was bordering on unbearable, her flanks quivering, her nostrils flared as she cast haphazard glances in every direction. She'd made a mess of it, and that was for sure, having ventured down the muddy slope in search of a drink. She soon discovered that it was impossible to clamber back up the steep slopes surrounding the river; it may've been a possibility had she been in her human form, but even that seemed difficult. She had been going in circles for a good hour or so, her breath fogging the air. She was no longer a combination of white and bay but instead to seem a nondescript shade of brown, courtesy to the damn mud. Hazel had mucked around in plenty of dirty before, but she'd always been able to go home and clean up afterward, and it hadn't ever been so cold.  I don't suppose you're a person.  She started, ears flicking in the direction of the voice. Her eyes rolled toward it, as well, to focus on the vague silhouette of a man above her. Her first reaction was to be aggravated; he was safe and free and she was not! It wasn't fair. Hazel did not answer, although she could have. She had learned that it was not wise to trust anyone in the Menagerie and so long as he thought she was an animal, there was a likelihood that he would not bother in being a mean fellow. Aside from that, Hazel knew that horses were useful to the Rings and, from the sounds of his conversation with his partner, he was in a Ring. She hoped she didn't look like dinner.  Hazel abandoned her efforts of escape, rounding to face Donovan as he descended. The thin river lay behind her and her tail flicked at her haunch; she looked ready to bolt but too tired to do so and, really, Hazel was awfully tired. He moved toward her and she tensed, but then came the apple.  She couldn't remember the last time she had had one of those. She wondered how valuable it had to be, or were they common in the Rings? She took a tentative step toward him, her eyes locked on his face even though her mind was on food. She couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten, in fact. Her stomach gnawed constantly on her guts; she was hungrier than she'd been in a long time. Hazel moved another step toward him, and then another, neighing softly.  Sucker, she thought, as she stretched her neck out and lipped the apple, testing him. Her eyes flicked to focus on the man and she realized that he was a looker. Lot of good that did anyone, in the Menagerie. She quickly snatched the apple from his palm, a wet crunch.

[Donovan]

“There’s a good lass,” he murmured, cautiously laying a hand on the mare’s shoulder as she happily crunched the apple. When she didn’t immediately startle away from him, he began combing his fingers through her coat, clearing away some of the mud. It was thick enough, he decided, in preparation for the coming winter - the horse was in decent flesh, it was just the wet and the cold that were the problem. “Let’s see if we can get you out of here, yeah?” Turning away, he scanned the slope around them, looking for the most viable route. Unfortunately, that turned out to be on the opposite side of the ravine than he’d come down from. Donovan pulled a face, but the inconvenience of having to go back down and up the other side, or find a way around, was not worth trying to struggle a strange horse up the steeper bank. With that in mind, he shrugged as he picked his way over to his chosen spot. There he stopped, considering the slope above him. A tree a little more than half way up looked suitable for his purposes. The rope wasn’t long enough to reach the top anyway - it wasn’t an ideal situation, but it would have to do. Hopefully if he got the horse up to somewhat drier ground, it could climb the rest of the way without assistance. Trying to stop and rework the rope setup on a steep pitch of mud was not his idea of a good time, especially if the horse was uncooperative. There was nothing for it, though, except to give it a shot. He’d deal with the rest if it came. Resettling the rope over his shoulder, he scrambled up the bank until he could catch himself on his chosen tree, pulling himself up to lean against it as he sorted the rope. A simple loop around the tree, and he slid back down into the ravine, using the rope to control his descent. Back on level ground, he left one end as it was, and set about tying a large, doubled loop in the other. He double-checked the knots and, satisfied that they would hold, stepped back to eye his improvised pulley. That was the easy part. The difficulty would be in getting the horse to accept the modified sling settling over its rump - and the pressure that was going to keep it from sliding back down the bank - without panicking. With this in mind, he turned to locate the mare, rocking back on his heels. “What do you think, lass, can you manage this without falling and breaking your leg?” He stepped over to her shoulder, petting for a moment, before resting his palm flat and turning to walk back to the pile of rope, encouraging the horse to walk with him. OOC: BRO BEAT ME WHEN I TAKE THIS LONG /dies Minor PP at the beginning thur, let me know if you want anything changed. u3u