Haggar is an absolute animal lover (a twist love mind you) especially for the ones that are deemed horrible in some way, and will use the excuse of ‘scientific research’ to patch up ones that have been terribly injured with augments that not only restore them to their full potential but makes them even better. The animals she rescues know that they would have died with out her and adore her, made all the easier due to her spoiling them rotten.
In honor of today’s festivities, here are the bones of one of the most influential, legendary horses of all time, Eclipse. Undefeated in 18 starts and able to be found in the pedigree of most thoroughbreds of today, Eclipse was foaled during and named after the solar eclipse that occurred on April 1st, 1764.
Allura curled her perfectly refined nose. “That’s Keith’s stall.”
“Someone named their horse ‘Keith?’” Which was fine, if not a little drab.
“No, Keith, the stable hand. That’s where he keeps his horse,” she explained through a laugh. “But, uh, he’s kind of nasty sometimes, so you’ll probably want to stay clear of him. Likes to bite.”
“Keith or the horse?”
She laughed again. “Both?”
In which Lance moves to the country and meets a hot-headed cowboy intent on being as difficult as possible. Despite his efforts, however, Keith merely inspires Lance to wonder at the pros of saving a horse and riding a cowboy.
Chapter 2: Assumptions Make Asses of Everyone
The walk back to the stable had done nothing to cool Lance down. Though it’d taken him nearly half an hour to find himself walking back through the barn doors, he was still fuming.
Who even was that Keith guy to treat him that way? They didn’t even know each other, yet he’d acted like Lance was some cavalier, stupid rich McClain without a care for anything around him. Lance wasn’t sure what was more insulting—the assumption that he’d ever treat his horse poorly or that doing so clearly aligned with what was expected of the McClains.
When he saw that Keith guy again, he’d give him a piece of… A piece of something!
“You’re back!” Allura said as he walked in, Azul’s hooves clopping beside him. Allura jumped up from the tack box she’d been sitting on a moment later, eyebrows furrowed in concern as she came to meet them. “Keith told me what happened.”
“Oh I bet he did!” Lance hissed.
Allura’s pursed lips were enough to tell him that whatever Keith had supposedly said had not painted him in the best light.
“What did he say?” Lance asked as they reached Azul’s stall. Stopping her outside it, he went to her side and began to undo the saddle synch. “That some asshole, spoiled kid fucked up his horse? Because I’m clearly too self-centered to know what’s good for her?”
Allura’s mouth pinched a bit to the side. “Something like that,” she verified.
“Fuckin’ dick,” Lance muttered as he carefully pulled the saddle and pad from Azul’s back. He didn’t want to accidentally knock her cut.
“Yeah, Keith can be a little…” Allura waved her hand in an evening motion, “…testy. But he means well.”
“I don’t care what he means,” Lance muttered as he opened his tack box and pulled out the toolbox he’d placed inside earlier that morning. Finding a washcloth, he was just about to dump her water and get some fresh when Allura picked up a bucket he hadn’t realized had been sitting in front of the stall.
“Keith left this,” she explained, setting the bucket at Azul’s front feet. It was already filled with clear water. “Said to make sure you cleaned her cut.”
“Fuck him,” Lance snapped. Like he needed to be told what to do.
“The legs, so delicately shaped, balanced a
body wrought of finest ivory. And as
he moved, his coat shone like reflected moonlight.
High on his forehead rose the magic horn, the sign
of his uniqueness: a tower held upright
by his alert, yet gentle, timid gait.” - Rainer Maria Rilke