July Story Contest

Bandit: A Mustang
By: Spacehorse88
Age: 13

~Birth~

Bandit was born when the trees budded and the flowers bloomed. He and his mother were sheltered by the warm dark night with diamond stars glistening above them.
Bandit’s mother, a buckskin mare, was enjoying the solitude of the night away from the constantly watching eye of Thunder, the lead stallion of Bandit’s mother, Dawn’s, herd. Dawn also thought it was nice to be away from the herd itself.
Dawn nuzzled her child. On long, wobbly legs Bandit teetered closer to her and began to nurse.
Bandit’s coat was pale buckskin, with a wide blaze running down his Arab-like face and his silk mane and tail were obsidian black, along with his hooves.

Bandit and Dawn spent the next week alone in the wilderness. Bandit slowly became more confident on his hooves and the week gave Dawn time to become prepared for the herd again.
“Come,” Dawn whinnied softly one day. “It is time to meet your father and the herd,”
“Daddy?” Bandit asked, ears pricked.
“Yes,” Dawn whinnied lovingly. “Daddy,”
So off they went, Bandit trotting, two of his strides only equaling one of his walking mother’s. An hour or so later the herd came into view. Dawn whinnied, and when Thunder raised his head from grazing and whinnied back Dawn gracefully moved to a trot. Bandit, trying to keep up rather ungracefully bounced up from a trot to a canter and fell head over hooves. He neighed for his mom to come back
Dawn slowed and backtracked to her dejected son, who was untangling his spindly legs. She helped him stand and together mother and son slowly joined the herd.

~Yearling~

Bandit galloped close to the grazing heard with the other yearlings. There were three colts (counting him) and two fillies.
“Bandit,” Dawn called.
Her son rushed over.
Dawn began grooming the colt. She was trying to memorize every scent he carried, every strand of fur on his face. . . She knew someday very soon he would be taken away from her.

~Three Years Old-Five Years Old~

It had been a hard winter. All the horses in Bandit’s herd were scruffy, thin and hungry. As they went to the water hole to drink Bandit lagged behind to help the older mares. After Dawn finished her drink Bandit stepped forward for his turn.
Thunder lunged at him.
Bandit reared back, confused. He tried again to quench his thirst and was for a second time driven back, further away this time. In one last desperate try to rejoin his family Bandit lunged forward and was given a stinging bite and a strong kick. Bandit then realized he was not wanted. His head drooped and he walked away slowly.
“Son,” Dawn whinnied.
“Mother!” Bandit called in forlornly.
“Go Bandit, be safe.” Dawn whinnied softly as Thunder pushed her back to the water. “I’ll miss you,”
So Bandit walked away, alone for the first time in his life.
He wandered for days, until he met up with a small band of bachelor stallions. They welcomed him into their little group and Bandit soon fell into a routine, graze in the morning, go to the water hole afterwards, play fight, wander for the rest of the day, graze some more, then they would go to a sheltered place and fall asleep.
One morning of Bandit’s second year with the bachelor herd, the colts, now stallions, had gone to the water hole.  They soon turned their attention from the water to a play fight one of the stallions had started. Their play ended abruptly when the trumpeting neigh echoed throughout the wild horses’ valley. The bachelors bowed their heads and backed away from the lake.
The bay stallion, who again trumpeted to show his dominance, loped down to the water hole after his large herd. The bachelor herd was standing a distance off where they were continuing their fight, except for Bandit.
His eyes were on an unusually gorgeous mare. The mare was a light chestnut Appaloosa. Her mane was light flaxen and the spots dancing up her back resembled a fawn’s, and that was how she was known to her herd: Fawn.
When one of the other stallions trotted up to Bandit and nipped him to invite him back into the game Bandit snapped at him, clearly signaling he wanted to be left alone. Then, when Fawn’s herd left Bandit quietly trailed after the herd, after Fawn. Fortunately, the bachelors didn’t follow.

Bandit had been following the herd for several days. The lead stallion had been ignoring the young nuisance, but lost his temper with Bandit on the seventh day. As the bay stallion charged to meet Bandit the whirring of helicopter blades could be heard.
Both stallions reared and began throw their hoof at one another. The bay was strong, but heavy and slightly clumsy with his movement.
Bandit was light-footed, a quality he had inherited from his father. Bandit easily dodged the bay’s hooves but the stallion’s weight was something Bandit was worried about as he fought for the mare he wanted to start out his own herd. Suddenly the helicopter rounded the bend and soared toward the battling stallions and the herd. In front of the metal bird were horses galloping in alarm.
The stallions forgot their brawl and galloped away from the new menace in a panic. All the horses were charging through the canyon. Bandit spotted a small canyon branching off the main one the horses were barreling through. Bandit galloped faster, caught up to Fawn and cut her off from the rest of the group. Together the two mustangs hurtled down the small canyon. After a few more minutes of running the horses slowed to a halt.
“Bandit,” Bandit introduced himself breathlessly.
“I’m Fawn,” Fawn panted as she bowed her head in recognition that he was now in charge of her safety, not the bay stallion.

~Lead Stallion~

Bandit nuzzled Fawn, lead mare, as they watched their son, Sierra, frolic through the Syringa flowers. Sierra was buckskin and had a dished head like his father, but had spots almost identical to his mom’s. Right on Sierra’s heels was a dappled gray filly, Rain. Rain was the daughter of Lightning, the third mare Bandit had added to his harem band.
Sierra ended his play abruptly and trotted over to his mother, ready to eat.
Bandit nudged his favorite mare toward the rest of the mares that were grazing. “Eat,” he nickered. Fawn needed the strength to complete her duties as lead mare and to take care of the rambunctious Sierra.
Fawn nuzzled Bandit once more and then trotted off to join Lightning, Rain, Blue and Aspen, the other horses in the herd.
Sierra, with his meal having been interrupted, loped after Fawn.
Bandit took attendance of his herd, checked for any danger and the lowered his noble head to graze also.