Wilton Spire

[DoS Archive]

From: oliviasilvanos@aol.com (Olivia Silvanos)
Date: 27 Jul 2002 11:49:44 EDT

As they crested the hill, Wilton Spire lay before her and the dancing mount. A vision of sprawling paddocks, sequestered and blanketed beneath the soothing branches of weeping willows and ancient oaks. Her gaze momentarily torn by the sudden jerk upon the lead from the mahogany mount. Settling the mount with soothing words and giving him time to
calm himself when he realized he was in no danger, Olivia turned towards Wilton Spire. Leading the mount once more. Grateful that Stormi had left her a map at the arena. Otherwise she would not have found it so easily, coming from the outskirts of the Northern gate. The mount had tested her patience greatly during their journey. Occasionally catching the heel of her boot when she had taken a moment to relax. Olivia had learned quickly to keep
on her toes when the mahogany suddenly came up short. Jerking her arm so suddenly that in tore the bicep muscle in her right arm. After that she was careful to hold the lead gently. Prepared to give the lead slack at a moment's notice.
Soft azure hues moved over the shady area, "A wonderful retreat from the hot summer sun." She thought as she led the horse down the hill towards Wilton Spire. Olivia had thought that the mahogany was growing to trust her a bit. Gradually winning him over with apples and carrots and an occasion sugar cube when the mount was especially pleasant to be around. Granted those occasions were few and far between. Suddenly he reared once
more, this time coming up and pawing the air. The slack loosening easily and giving him his way as she turned to face the 17 hand mount as it rebelled, once again reopening wounds upon his raw flanks. Each day she had applied a salve to those wounds. Wounds inflicted by the cruel use of spurs. And although they had begun to heal nicely the mount would grow spooked and rear stretching the flesh. The beautiful steed had indeed been treated unfairly
by his previous owner.
With a soothing tone and giving him a moment to vent his frustration and anxiety, he finally calmed. Enough so she led him once more. Her knowledge of horses was lacking and she hoped she had made the right decision in brining him to Wilton Spire. Perhaps here, they both could learn. After all, it had been her love for the animal itself that prompted her to speak out against Jackson. Protesting, his treatment of the horse. He had been
brutal in his drunkenness, and it angered her to no end. Prompting her to speak and fight for ownership of the horse. It really was to bad, Jackson had not been more experienced and less an acholohlic, when it came to the art of swordplay. Otherwise he may have posed a challenge for her. Nevertheless, she now found herself incharge of a beautiful mahogany steed with black stockings and a white star. Who's attitude was less than cordial due to
lack of care and cruelty.
As they approached the stables the horse once again came up short, jerking her arm as she was caught off guard. The mount coming up on his hind legs to paw the air. Quickly she let loose her grip letting him have his head for a brief moment before her grip tightened in her left hand. Again soothing words were used to calm him and the slack was taken once more. Her right arm throbbed and the muscle was useless. Once the horse was calmed
she turned to face a man stepping out of the stable to greet her. Crass and cranky, his outward personality. Johannis had watched as the woman led the mount through the front gate of Wilton Spire. Arms crossed to his chest and lips pursed. Green eyes narrowed as they looked over the obvious scabbed and matted hair that lie to the flacks and rear quarters of the mahogany horse. As she neared with her ward, he'd stepped out to reveal himself,
aquiline features darkened with distress and without missing a beat made an immediate accusation of her lack of care for her steed.
However, he'd softened, gruff accented words upon listening to the woman's explanation and her recent acquisition of the horse. And as he walked around the skittish mount. Oblivious to the mahogany's rearing and stamping of hooves. He ran an appraising eye over the various and obvious, health issues to be battled.
I can help you cure that rain scourge, and the Horseman or Stormi will aid in calming the temperamental lug...," pausing, he tapped the tip of a slender finger to his lips while crouching down to examine the raw flesh of overuse of spurs. "If I find out who did that, I may put the whip to them lass."
"Only if I can help tie him down and can get in a lick or two." A sly smile formed as the horse dared to pull back his head. Stroking his muzzle and with a grimace holding tightly to the worn leather halter she managed to keep him relatively calm.
Rising, he flourished a bow to the woman and offered his name, "Johannis, at your service....You are Olivia correct? If my aging memory is correct, I believe Stormi wished for me to board your mount here...A solitary paddock has already been readied for this one. Roomy, with enough clover and sweet oats to keep him happy while he learns his manners and heals up. He has a name, eh?"
A slender brow rose and she thought for a long moment, her expression growing puzzled. "If he does he will not tell me." A nervous smile formed as she was at a lose for words. Having only her Jackson call him horse....or ba.....which was not a word she care to repeat. "No, he does not have a name." Again the mount danced about nervously. Once more she cooed gently and finally soothed him to a nervous stamping of hooves.
Bidding a young lad from his chores, the boy set the buckets of water to the side. Before the frecklefaced boy ran over and sketched a bow to Olivia turning a sharp eye to her. The Frenchman watched with interest as she soothed the beast to a nervous stamp of hooves, all the while whispering instructions to the lad. A smile softening those rough crass features.
"Ready a bath of Fenugrec for this lad...," A tip of his head to the horse, the man continued on, "and tell my wife to prepare a healthy amount of garlic poultices." Turning to Olivia...."One to fight the inflammation and the other to fight the threat of infection." Johannis thoughtfully looked to the horse and then over to Olivia after whisking the boy off on his errand. Thankful Stormi and rented a private paddock, he rubbed at his
cheek and glanced around to ascertain no other of his wards were in close vicinity. "The scourge has a contagious air to it." Speaking his experience on the matter.
Antsy to begin work on the mount, the man soothingly stroked a hand to the horse's side and with a slow movement stepped up to slip his hand to the worn leather halter.
"You're welcome to stop in to check on him. "
"Thank you....I'll do that." With that she watched as he led the horse away. Nibbling her lower lip nervously and wondering what will become of it all.

*special thanks to Stormi Maclaren for allowing me to use Johannis in this post, along with the description of Wilton Spire. Thank you Stormi.