Wanna know how I got these scars?

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„You dingus…. Oh crap there’s blood… Oh shit the blood is spraying everywhere,“ I thought as my horse struggled to his feet.

 

Aston had tripped during training on the longe line, tangled his legs up into themselves, and somersaulted headfirst into the concrete foundation of the arena, kicking down a fence board as he went.

 

Adrenaline shot through me as I watched him struggle to stand, forcing my voice to a low “whoa, whoa, hush baby, whoa” as bloody clouds appeared in the sand next to his hoofprints with each step.  Tiger claw marks had opened on his lower leg and ankle, blood rushing down his tendons from some slashes and spraying towards me from others. A long scimitar had opened up between his eyes sweeping down his face where the nasal and cheek bones meet.

 

Somehow I called the vet as we gingerly walked out of the arena. I dropped the lead rope in front of the saddle room and crouched to grip Aston’s bleeding ankle with both my hands. He snorted, jerked his head up and started to pull his leg away. My hands slipped a bit as rivers of blood now rushed over them.

 

“Hush baby, hush baby, I know, I believe you that it hurts,” I crooned, my heart pounding and breaking at once. Gotta stop the bleeding… One bad spook, he could hit my cranium with his hoof, or pin me against the wall, or step on my arm or stomach…

 

“Hush baby, hush baby, I need you to stand still,” I murmured. He stopped mid-tug, resting the tip of his hoof on the ground in front of me, blowing out his breath in a snort.

 

 “Hush baby… dicen los pollitos, pio pio pio,” I crooned the lullaby I had sung to him when he had vet visits as a foal, trying to put as much pressure as I could into my grip. He gingerly set his foot on the ground, and dropped his head lower with a sigh. The bright red ribbons around my boots were widening into a puddle.

 

 “Good job, baby, what a brave, good boy,” I murmured again as he stood, breathing deeply with his head lowered, wearing only a halter. My hands were slipping around and I couldn’t put enough pressure to stop the bleeding. I looked over my shoulder, realizing that in order to reach what I needed for a pressure bandage from my first aid kit, I would need to let go of Aston’s leg.


This is a selection from my first book, There IS Another Way/Jde to i Jinak, with a publication date in 2024. You can sign up for updates right here!


Thank you for reading, and I wish you a lovely day!

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