Post by shane on Feb 24, 2010 23:43:55 GMT -5
It was cold... bitter cold... below freezing in fact... but Shane Martin hardly felt it as he lead his mustang out towards the pastures in Pinewood West Virginia. The jeans and fairly warm coat he wore would hardly be enough for most people to stay warm, but he was so enthusiastic whenever he was around his horse, he practically generated his own heat. There was no doubt about it, Shane loved his horse, and he definitely had talent when it came to working with the animals. He wasn't like most people. He was silent and gentle, never said a harsh word or raised his voice... he just told the horse what he wanted to say through touch, and they seemed to understand each other. Sadly... the mustang was the only one who Shane had come across who was unaffected by his silence. It didn't matter to the horse that his human couldn't talk, so he didn't treat him any differently.
People were different. Even the ones who pretended to be okay with his disability usually weren't. Who wanted to hang out with a guy who couldn't talk? Oh sure, he could say things through writing, but he had found that most people were impatient and didn't want to wait for him to write out what he had to say... and he couldn't say he blamed them. He had always been sort of a recluse, staying off on his own and avoiding groups of people... but that was hardly his fault. Being an only child and not being able to speak had sort of driven him into his self-seclusion. As a kid he'd always been judged and picked on by the other "normal" kids.. so he withdrew from them, and hadn't ever come back into the midst. Then with all the moving lately, what little relationships he had developed with people were gone, and he found himself starting over again.
He had been in Pinewood for about six months now, and still the only people he knew were the football players who made it their priority to inflate their egos by inflicting those less capable of defending themselves with pain. It was hardly fair... but Shane was used to life being unfair. After all, what had he done to deserve the inability to speak? He always pretended to be okay with it, and people always believed him... but really he was bothered by it. He hated being different from everyone else... he hated being the only imperfect one in a crowd of "perfect" people. He tended to try to avoid telling people that he couldn't speak because he only really knew two reactions to that information. One was people deciding he wasn't someone they wanted to associate with, and the other was people treating him like he was mentally handicapped just because he couldn't talk... it drove him crazy. He would admit there were times he wished all of them would be stricken with some sort of disease that would make them incapable of speech just so they would know what it was like.
But here with the mustang he called Rubik's Cube everything was as it should have been. Rubik didn't care what he looked like or what he wore, the way he did his hair or the color of his eyes. Rubik didn't care that he couldn't speak... all he cared about was Shane... and of course those things which most horses cared about like food. Once the pair was in the pasture, and the gate was closed behind them, Shane jumped up onto the horse bareback, and set him off at a walk through the snow. He had started the horse on tack, and they were progressing quiet well already, but Shane didn't really feel like making the horse work today... he just wanted to ride without having to worry about trying to teach Rubik how to respond to reins and all that jazz. Just a no fuss, no worry ride.
It didn't take long before he had Rubik moving at a smooth slow paced canter. It had been said that a canter was a cure for every evil, and Shane believed it completely. When he rode a horse at a canter it seemed like the world just slowed down and everything was perfect... especially when the horse could move like Rubik. Though mustangs weren't really known for being smooth and well collected, Rubik was. It hardly felt like there was any bounce to his stride, and the evenness of his every step made it feel like they were just hovering above the ground being rocked slightly by a breeze. This, for Shane, was as close to perfect as the world would ever be... and God forbid he ever be trapped somewhere that he couldn't have a horse again.
People were different. Even the ones who pretended to be okay with his disability usually weren't. Who wanted to hang out with a guy who couldn't talk? Oh sure, he could say things through writing, but he had found that most people were impatient and didn't want to wait for him to write out what he had to say... and he couldn't say he blamed them. He had always been sort of a recluse, staying off on his own and avoiding groups of people... but that was hardly his fault. Being an only child and not being able to speak had sort of driven him into his self-seclusion. As a kid he'd always been judged and picked on by the other "normal" kids.. so he withdrew from them, and hadn't ever come back into the midst. Then with all the moving lately, what little relationships he had developed with people were gone, and he found himself starting over again.
He had been in Pinewood for about six months now, and still the only people he knew were the football players who made it their priority to inflate their egos by inflicting those less capable of defending themselves with pain. It was hardly fair... but Shane was used to life being unfair. After all, what had he done to deserve the inability to speak? He always pretended to be okay with it, and people always believed him... but really he was bothered by it. He hated being different from everyone else... he hated being the only imperfect one in a crowd of "perfect" people. He tended to try to avoid telling people that he couldn't speak because he only really knew two reactions to that information. One was people deciding he wasn't someone they wanted to associate with, and the other was people treating him like he was mentally handicapped just because he couldn't talk... it drove him crazy. He would admit there were times he wished all of them would be stricken with some sort of disease that would make them incapable of speech just so they would know what it was like.
But here with the mustang he called Rubik's Cube everything was as it should have been. Rubik didn't care what he looked like or what he wore, the way he did his hair or the color of his eyes. Rubik didn't care that he couldn't speak... all he cared about was Shane... and of course those things which most horses cared about like food. Once the pair was in the pasture, and the gate was closed behind them, Shane jumped up onto the horse bareback, and set him off at a walk through the snow. He had started the horse on tack, and they were progressing quiet well already, but Shane didn't really feel like making the horse work today... he just wanted to ride without having to worry about trying to teach Rubik how to respond to reins and all that jazz. Just a no fuss, no worry ride.
It didn't take long before he had Rubik moving at a smooth slow paced canter. It had been said that a canter was a cure for every evil, and Shane believed it completely. When he rode a horse at a canter it seemed like the world just slowed down and everything was perfect... especially when the horse could move like Rubik. Though mustangs weren't really known for being smooth and well collected, Rubik was. It hardly felt like there was any bounce to his stride, and the evenness of his every step made it feel like they were just hovering above the ground being rocked slightly by a breeze. This, for Shane, was as close to perfect as the world would ever be... and God forbid he ever be trapped somewhere that he couldn't have a horse again.