Post by lstone on May 9, 2006 7:38:51 GMT -5
The sorrel filly cantered across the lands, her tail lifted high like a banner. She turned a corner, and saw a small group of tame horses .She tilted her muzzle. The tamies whickered, and shook their ropes. She cautiously walked up to them, and bit through the ropes. They whinnied loudly, waking the men. They grabbed ropes and flung them at Flicka. The first missed by inches, but then they had her neck, head and hind leg roped. She snorted, and pulled back angrily. She whinnied towards the tamies, and they shot off into the undergrowth. The men cursed, and threw other ropes. Soon, she was on the ground, tied down. They stroked her and she rippled her skin, trying to get rid of the horrid feeling. They strapped a leather contraption onto her muzzle, and began to loosen the ropes. At once she tried to rear, but they forced her to walk.