Sunfishin’: A Short Story From the World of Brieltas

I’m currently developing the equine characters of my WIP, and one of my current favorites is Dusty, a silver buckskin Myarta who will become Jason’s horse. This snippet is Jason’s first ride– from Dusty’s POV. Enjoy!

***

“Today’s the day, I’m afraid.” Firefly snorted to Dusty as he and his herdmates watched the cowboys approach the Myartas.

“What day?” Dusty asked, slowly chewing a mouthful of grass. He couldn’t think of anything important that was supposed to happen. It was mid-summer, and both he and his friends were just three-springs, so neither of them had families to have concern over.

“The day that they bring our humans out to ride us for the first time.” Firefly replied. “Haven’t you been paying attention to anything Culloden has been saying?”

Dusty shook his mane, lowering his head to snatch at some clover. “I’d rather be practicing my bucking than listening to him carry on.”

“Dusty!” Jojo scolded from his left , and Dusty winced at the word. He still wasn’t used to having a Name– a Raida-given name. He had been called Sombre up till now, and he already liked his name. But, as it was Myarta tradition, once one of the Patroda Raida gave a name to a steed, they were called by that name by the rest of the herd.

But… Dusty? Really? The stick of a human who had given him that name couldn’t come up with anything better? Why not something cool, like Hawk, or Bear, or…

“Hey look!” Hero, the oldest stallion in their group at four springs and definitely the leader, pricked his head up as far as it would go. “I see Monty!”

Dusty rolled his eyes. Of course. The humans they had chosen (well, Dusty didn’t choose the stick-boy, he’d chosen him, which was wrong to begin with) were all herdmates, and now they were approaching them, with Hero’s human Monty in the front.

Now, Hero was a cool name. Dusty liked the Monty fellow– he was tall, strong, and he knew what leadership was. Hero had saved the blond human’s life the last time Apati attacked the herd, and he’d chosen him to be his human.

Dusty looked over at his human and sagged. He was a skinny boy named Jason, short and nervous, always talking too much or being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He was the sort of person that Dusty wanted to step on, just every once in a while, only to make him shut up.

Hero trotted up politely to his human, dipping his head in respect. Dusty rolled his eyes again. Okay, he wouldn’t do that. They were only humans, after all.

Jojo nickered, almost looking– he gagged– happy to see her human Abby. She followed Hero, meeting her human halfway across the field.

He snorted. He would probably be happier if he had a better name– not that Jojo was a great name, but not a name like Dusty.

“What am I, a goat?” Dusty asked, then realized he’d said it out loud. Jason’s face lit up with the whinnying complaint.

Oh no. He thought he was welcoming him.

Automatically, he pinned his ears.

“Ah, cheer up, Dusty!” Firefly snorted, switching his red tail. “It’s not so bad. At least you don’t have to deal with a stubborn jerk like Ethan.” He glared at his spiky-haired human. “I thought I would like him, but I think I picked wrong.”

“At least you got to pick.” Dusty muttered.

“They should have named him ‘Mule’.” The chestnut stallion continued, not listening at all– not that it was surprising. Firefly never listened to anyone, except of course Koko, but the black mare would never give him the time of day.

Not that Dusty cared.

He just wanted to run, to practice his bucking and feel the wind swish under his belly, the thrill as he jumped into the sky. Now that was a good time.

An idea wove itself into Dusty’s mind, a terrible, wonderful idea.

The idea comforted him as the ridiculously skinny and short Jason fumbled with the halter, putting it on wrong twice until the human girl named Violet– the human for a lilac roan mare named Diamond, if Dusty remembered right– had to put it on for him. Dusty gritted his teeth, focusing on the glorious scene that would come.

He could still practice his bucking. He would test this little shrimp of a boy, see what sort of human he really was.

He’d give him the ride of his life.

***

“Dusty… what are you thinking about?” Jojo asked as Dusty somewhat patiently endured the horrendously novice handling of Jason while he struggled with the saddle. She was already mounted by Abby, trotting around in circles.

Such a goody-two-shoes.

“Why do you say I’m thinking about something?” Dusty asked. He had, in fact, been imagining a humourous scene where Jason was careening off his back and falling down a hill, but he wouldn’t admit that to Jojo.

The blue roan pinto snorted, eyeing him. “Dusty…”

“Stop calling me that.” Dusty growled. “I want to have my old name back.”

She drew back her head as far as her bridle would allow without stopping her. “It’s a great honor to have a Raida name.” She said finally. “Especially for us. We’re not like other horses, you know.”

“Like I could forget.” Dusty switched his tail fiercely, half-accidentally swatting Jason in the process. “But Dusty isn’t a Myarta name. It’s a stupid pet pony name. I want my old name, and I certainly don’t want this skinny cowboy wanna-be on my back.” He turned his head to glare at Jason as he began to mount, shifting to the side so the saddle slipped and the boy was dumped onto the ground.

“You’re being mean.” Raven piped in, standing like a black and white statue as his quiet owner, Jonah, cleaned his hooves. “Jason wants to be your friend.”

“I don’t want to be his–!” Dusty shouted, cut off as Jason tightened the cinch and, with the help of Violet, finally got into the saddle. His hands clamped on the reins so tight Dusty wondered if his jaw was being split in two by the nasty metal bit.

Oh great, the shrimp is afraid. He grumbled, feeling more annoyed than ever before. At least it means I can walk all over him.

“Ease up on the reins, Jason. You’re hurting Dusty.” Violet said.

Thank goodness for voices of reason such as yourself. Dusty sighed as he was given plenty more rein and the bit relaxed.

He lifted his head and noticed in the adjoining pen stood Diamond, talking with Tiger Lily. He nickered to her, pleased as she lifted her head and nickered back.

He liked Diamond. He wished he could spend time chatting with her instead of being stuck with this nervous child on his back.

Think about the bucking. Dusty thought, supressing a chuckle as glorious images came to mind. He shook his mane, feeling the surprise jolt through Jason.

Just you wait, Shrimp. He thought. You haven’t seen anything yet.

“Now, when you’re ready, just squeeze your legs and click to get him to walk.” Violet said.

He felt the barely perceptible nudge from the stick’s legs. Dusty gave a rumbling nicker.

He walked, pleasantly, lowering his head and pretending to enjoy the work. He felt th ecstasy radiate from his rider’s hands. “He moved!” Jason exclaimed.

Oh yes. Dusty thought. I’m moving. But you just wait, boy.

“Now, deepen your seat to ask him to stop.” Violet commanded.

He held in the urge to rear as Jason tried to sit deep, but instead complied by pulling back on the reins. At Violet’s gentle scolding he quickly eased up, leaving Dusty with an aching jaw.

I’m gonna get you back for that. He growled.

“Ask for the walk again.” Violet crossed her arms, watching.

Jason nudged, his movements so light Dusty briefly wondered if it was just a large fly sitting on his back instead of a boy. He realized he was being asked to walk and complied.

They were getting close to Diamond now. She and Tiger Lily had stopped chatting to watch. Even Jojo was stopped now, eyeing him with visible nervousness.

He had a crowd. Now it was time for a show.

Dusty’s black heels rose to the sky, his silver coat mixing with arena dust. He nickered happily as Jason shrieked, rearing up only to plunge down again.

“Don’t you think this is a lot more fun?” He asked Jason, leaping and twisting with the utmost joy. Jason didn’t respond. He was calling for help.

Haha! Dusty saw cowboys rushing in on either side, trying to contain him, but he whirled away, kicking out at whoever got to close. Can’t catch me when I’m sunfishin’, boys.

“Dusty! You’re going to hurt him!” Jojo shouted. Dusty paid no attention. The kid could fall for all he cared– he was having fun.

He whirled and spun, once bucking so high he nearly flipped forward, and it was this near miss with colliding into the earth that threw Jason, sending him flailing into a ripe pile of manure.

Dusty whinnied victoriously, bucking again. The cowboys now gathered around Jason, checking him over.

He slowed, barely even dizzy as he trotted toward Diamond and Tiger Lily. “Now that’s what I call a show!” He brayed.

Diamond stared at him, horrified. “Why would you do that to the poor kid?”

“Him?” Dusty shook his mane. “Aw, Shrimp can handle it. I just wanted to show him that I can’t be messed with.”

“You could have killed him.” Tiger Lily snapped.

“Not my problem if he doesn’t know when to let go.”

Diamond’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped. Finally, she turned away, flicking her slate-red tail. “Come on, Tiger, let’s go talk where bullies can’t speak with us.”

“Bully?” Dusty blinked. “Hey, it was just a joke! Diamond!”

But the lilac roan mare was already gone.

***

“I can’t believe you, Dusty.” Jojo hissed as they were herded back to the other Myartas. Dusty had a rope around his neck, which was held by one of the cowboys; a punishment, he supposed, for his earlier stunt.

He shook his mane. “The kid chose me.”

“That doesn’t give you a right to hurt him!” She snapped.

“Yeah. What if you did kill him?” Electron asked, eyes wide. “You might suffer worse than a rope around the neck.”

“Oh please.” Dusty rolled his eyes. “I could chew through this rope if I really wanted to.”

“That’s not the point.” Hero snapped. “We’re supposed to protect our Raida. It’s what Myartas have done for years.”

“He’s not my Raida!” Dusty shouted. “That’s what I’ve been trying to say! The kid chose me. That was his mistake. I’m supposed to choose my human, not the other way around!”

“But… Dusty…” Kori said slowly, pausing to bite at a horsefly. “Wouldn’t that make you the first Myarta to be chosen by a human? Wouldn’t that make you… dare I say it… special?”

Dusty stopped, stunned. He felt the rope tug at his neck and he walked forward, silent.

“I guess I never thought about it that way.” He muttered reluctantly.

“Dusty… he’s just a kid.” Raven nickered. “He’s still new to everything here. He’s trying hard to be a good Raida for you. Why can’t you see that?”

Three cowboys herded his friends on. The last cowboy, holding the rope, held him back.

“Change of plans, Dusty.” The cowboy sighed. “You’re staying in town tonight.”

No! Dusty leaned against the rope, choking as the rawhide rubbed on his throat. “I want to go with my friends!” He said.

The cowboy pulled, forcing him to step forward to relieve the pressure.

He followed, watching as his friends moved on, not looking back.

***

Dusty paced in the round pen, restless. His neck throbbed from a cut on his neck, induced by his frantic urge to get out of the rope.

“I hate this.” He growled. “I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.”

“You hate what?” A gentle voice murmured from the darkness. Dusty jerked, looking up to see a familiar blue roan face staring at him from a pen adjoining him.

“Wait… you’re Whisper.” He said, immediately dipping his head in respect to the quite-famous Myarta mare. He was shocked to see her– she’d disappeared without a trace a few weeks before.

“I am.” She moved forward into a patch of moonlight, so that Dusty could see that it was indeed Whisper the Communicator.  Her body was covered in cuts and bruises– the marks of a Kobagindo attack, if he knew correctly.

“Everyone’s missed you a lot.” Dusty said. “Charger’s been depressed.”

“I know.” The mare lowered her eyes, sighing. “I knew I had to leave for a bit… I just didn’t expect it to take so long. Tell me your name, young colt, and what ails you? It’ll distract me, for a bit.”

He desperately wanted to ask what had happened– it was all anyone was talking about in the herd– but instead, he answered her question. “My name is… well, it was Sombre, but I got a Raida recently, so now it’s Dusty.”

“I remember you from the herd. Congratulations.” Whisper nodded. “Gaining a Raida is a very great thing.”

“Not for me.” Dusty grumbled. “My Raida chose me without asking my opinion and now thinks we’re going to be the best of friends. I’m in here because I took him for a ride that the cowboys seemed to think endangered his life.”

Her eyes widened. “You started bucking?”

He shook his mane. “He was fine. Why does everyone keep harping on that?”

“Perhaps because it was your father’s love for bucking that put him on the wrong end of a shotgun.” Whisper snapped, then recoiled. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Dusty’s eyes widened. “Wait… what?” He had never known his father and never really cared, but hearing that he had been shot was a shock to say the least. As far as he knew, the humans never killed Myartas. Goats, yes, and those dumb little birds they called ducks and chickens, but never a Myarta.

Whisper sighed. “He was a bucker too, Dusty. But he never had a Raida. He didn’t want one. He was like you, proud and selfish, and he preferred having his own way than “mooching to humans”. And he wasn’t the only one. His father, and his father’s father, and back on to the very first Raida, were all proud, arrogant bucking horses.”  She shook her head. “Your father was shot by the father of the little girl he accidentally killed bucking. And your grandfathers and great-grandfathers have all been killed for similar crimes, all linking back to their love to buck.”

Dusty narrowed his eyes. “But I don’t kill people. I just like to buck. What’s so wrong with that?”

“He didn’t mean to kill the girl either.” Whisper murmured. “That’s the point, Dusty. A bucking horse is a dangerous horse– they’re not bloodlines they like to perpetuate. Buckers don’t live long.”

Dusty lifted his chin. “I’m too fast for them. I’d be gone before they even tried it.”

“He chose you, Dusty. And I’m sure he was warned, too.” Whisper said. “Buckers don’t get chosen. They don’t choose owners. They become Riderless Myartas and are killed for being an endangerment. You have a chance to change your family history.”

He pinned his ears. “And what if I don’t want to?”

She sighed. “Then you can join your forefathers in sleeping underneath the soil.”

***

Dusty thought about Whisper’s words throughout the night. The mare had retreated to her side of the pen, and her blue-gray coat made it impossible to see her.

He dozed for a while, but all he could see was the big silver shotguns the cowboys always carried, meant to fend off predators, but in his mind one was pointed at him. He saw Jason on the ground again, in a crumpled heap.

By the time the sun came up, Dusty felt just a little bit  sorry for what had happened the night before.

***

“I’m telling you, Violet, I think he’s the right one.”

It was the next day, and Jason and Violet stood outside of Dusty’s pen, planning.

Nervous energy from Jason made him twitchy inside, as if it were transmitting to Dusty. He bucked, feeling some of it fall away in the thrill of the leap.

“There he goes again.” Violet sighed, shaking her head. “Jas… are you sure you want him? Dusty’s a bucker– he goes back to a line of buckers who all hated humans. He’s no different.”

Jason hesitated, and for a split second, Dusty almost felt alarmed at the thought of Jason saying no. He stopped bucking and stood still, waiting.

Jason sighed. “He just seems… he seems like the right horse.”

“He didn’t choose you, Jason. You’re asking a human-hating horse to like a human. Normally the horses choose their owners.” Violet climbed up to the top of the railing.

Jason followed her. “But he looks lonely.”

“I do not!” Dusty shouted. “I am perfectly fine with my normal life, thank you very much!”

“See?” Jason said. “He’s trying to talk to me! He likes me a little bit.”

“I am trying to INSULT YOU!” Dusty shouted, bucking again.

“I don’t know Jas.” Violet crossed her legs. “I just think he’s too much horse for you.”

“I think we just got off on the wrong foot yesterday.” Jason smiled. “Maybe he’s just scared.”

Now Dusty was outraged. “Scared? You should be the one who’s scared, SHRIMP. I plan on peeling you like a twig–” He stopped as movement darted into the corner of his eye.

It was Whisper. A human had gone into her pen, tenderly caring for her wounds, slowly talking to her. It wasn’t Whisper’s Raida– it was another girl, younger. Whisper looked weary and in pain, but there was also comfort on her face, as if the girl’s presence made things a little better.

His neck wound throbbed again, and he lowered his neck, trying to relieve the pain.

“Hey, he’s cut.” Jason said.

“He was fighting the rope last night.” Violet informed him. “Hey, let’s get some stuff from the house and treat it. It’s a good place to begin.”

“Okay.” Jason jumped down, followed by Violet, and the two of them disappeared inside.

Dusty raised his head. Now what were they doing?

They came back out with a halter and a box. Violet entered the pen with the halter. “Come on, bud. We’re not gonna hurt you.”

Dusty hesitated, considering running away.

Whisper’s words came back to him. You can change your family history.

He lowered his head, accepting the halter.

She grinned and tied it around him, afterwards leading him toward Jason. “You know, Dusty’s living up to his name too much. We should really give him a bath.”

Don’t make me regret this. Dusty thought, glaring at Violet.

Jason looked between Violet and Dusty. “I don’t know if he would like that.”

“Well, maybe we’ll just take him to the river for a dip. All the horses like that.” She opened the gate, then held out the lead rope to Jason. “You want to take him?”

Dusty watched as Jason hesitated, then slowly took the rope. “Okay. Lead on.”

Violet bounded ahead, towards the river. Dusty looked toward the human holding his halter, and sensed a new emotion coming from him.

Confidence. Jason was feeling confidence.

Somehow, knowing that it was he who gave the shrimp this confidence swelled Dusty’s heart with an untangible emotion. He followed the boy, no longer reluctant.

“Maybe you’re not so bad after all, kid.” He nickered, shoving Jason’s shoulder.

Jason laughed, then Dusty fell into step with him, and the two made their way down to the river together. 

Dusty suddenly recognized the emotion. It was love.

For the first time in his life, he loved a human. His human. His Raida.

Dusty was beginning to love Jason.