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CoaH Stallion: Isaiah

BlackGlassButterfly

Published: Feb 14, 2009

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_{CoaH ISAIAH}

BL Harlequin Stallion

_{Registered Name: CoaH Isaiah
Barn Name: Isaiah
Bloodline: ^sire: Ghostbuster x ^dam: Kheios
Full Pedigree: [link]
Breed: BL Harlequin - Arabian type
Gender: Stallion
Height: 15.2 hh
Weight: 1,214 lbs
Age: 5
Eyes: "Shock" green
Color: Red, Black, and White
Markings:
Stripes and Swirls

Discipline(s):
Show Jumping

Body: Athletic
Type: Powerful
Vice: Bucking when too excited or hyped
Quirk: Laying down for his afternoon nap exactly at 1:15pm every day

BREEDING

Genetics: 85% chance to pass Harlequin markings and traits to CL Harlequins only. Will not breed to another BL Harlequin. Very rare chance of passing Harlequin genetics to a "normal" mare. Unfortunately will not pass Harlequin genetics to other breeds. [ex: Mosaics, Toxics, etc.]

Status: Closed

Booking List:
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Get:
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BACKGROUND

Personality: A horse spared of many of the genetic and mental disabilities that come common with the Harlequin breed, Isaiah lives up to his name as "Saved by God." He did not inherit his father's extra set of legs; however, Isaiah is one of our most powerful horses at CoaH. It is luck that he is not aware of just how devastating it could be if he were to throw his weight around. His strength makes him a fierce and incredible competitor; jumping seeming to be what the stallion was born for. He is a surprisingly collected stud, minding his manners with his handlers, with a polite demeanor around the mares. He tends to make bonds with his riders; having especially closes ones with Melody Riddle and Shelby Cox.
He can have a wild streak, something passed down from his mother. If left for pasture for a few days, he builds up his energy instead of wasting it in the field. During riding, he burns this off by bursting into sudden runs or fits of bucking. Though, despite his occurrences of outbursts, he is a typically relaxed horse, enjoying a good afternoon sunbathe.

History: [link] - part I

The thunder silenced as the clouds rolled in over the diamond studded sky. Isaiah silenced as well, watching the shadows casted by the moon begin to disappear. Soon shapes were all he could see. His nostrils flared, his tight muscle twitching, as he moved lightly across his small paddock. He was not far from his stall, but the white fence stretched to unreachable heights in the blackened night. There would’ve been a time in his life when Zero Gravity would’ve trained for him 6 foot fences, but without vision, even a 4 foot fence made him nervous.
Softly, the rain began to fall. Drops hit his nose and the young stud tossed his head, letting out a sharp whicker. It wasn’t the water that bothered him; it was the sky as it began to flash. Isaiah rose off the ground and spun, looking for any comforting shape in the night. Thunder began to growl, muffled by the distance.
Isaiah began to steady, fearing no one would come and he would have to wait out the storm. He watched the sky flash, the light giving color to the farm for just mere seconds, then fading back into black shapes. The rain grew thicker, and a sharp crash of thunder pushed Isaiah back a few steps. At the same time the sound of human feet in the wet grass mixed with a soft hum filled Isaiah’s ears. The horse spun around, and looked at the faceless human figure walking towards him. His ears perked and he tossed his head, knickers escaping him as he walked towards the shape.
“La la luu, la la luu,” the voice hummed. The song was soft, warm, and gentle, something like he heard children sing to him when they visited the farm. He hadn’t recognized it from any of the handlers, but good training made him trusting of humans, especially those coming to take him from the rain.
The shape was that of a woman. She unlatched the gate and stepped towards Isaiah. Thin fingers ran down his face and through his forelock. He tried making out shapes on the woman, but to no avail. She slipped on a halter over the horse’s head; it was like nothing he had been trained to know at the farm. He tossed his head at the itchy rope-like halter. All the while, the woman sang to him.
Isaiah pushed his head against the woman, wanting to rid himself of the terrible thing they had put on him. It was as though the just took a piece of worn old rope and made a makeshift halter out of it. It itched, almost scratched, and was hard and callous. The woman flicked her wrist and snapped ringed fingers into the colt’s nose. Isaiah back up a few steps, stunned at what just happened. He had been disciplined before, but not like this. She turned and began walking forward. It was then Isaiah became aware of the thunder once again, and didn’t dwell on the sharp pain in his nose.
The thunder smashed against the sky, and Isaiah let out a panicked cry. The dogs began to bark and the woman cursed. Isaiah turned his head a realized they were not headed towards his warm stall, but instead to the front of the farm. He snorted and looked at the woman and she pulled him into a trot to match her run. Suddenly the woman stopped and Isaiah had to swerve out of the way to avoid hitting her. The woman looked up at the house. The window lit up in a yellow light.
“Dammit!” she scowled, then broke out into a run again. The dogs tore at the gate keeping them back, teeth bared and dripping with saliva. They knew the scent of this woman was not one of theirs, nor a visitor at this house.
The mistress rushed out of the door, only catching a glimpse of Isaiah’s white tail slipping out of the front gate. She feared he got loose until she noticed the tail lights of a truck and trailer.
“NO!” she screamed, and thrusted the front gate open to let the dogs free. Teeth, paws, and claws came raging to the front gate, but the woman was already locking the trailer door.
She began banging on the trailer and truck as she ran to the open passenger door, “GO GO GO!” she cried as she ran. The dogs were at her heels as she jumped into the truck, slamming the door closed, and narrowly missing one of the k-9s. Mud flung into the air as the truck raced down the road, eventually out speeding the dogs to the main road.
The mistress ran as far as her breath would let her, until finally she had to stop. The dogs licked her finger tips which were now dripping with rain. Hair clung plastered to her face, her clothes wet with rain and mud.
She watched the truck disappear into the black shadows of the night, and screamed, but only the thunder cried back…

Two long days of driving had passed until Melody Riddle and Richard Bender had finally pulled into a parking lot already full of other trucks and trailers. Melody and Richard took two different trucks, pulling behind them 4 horse slants. The BLM were having one of the largest round ups in history due to recent drought and farm zoning. Melody had plans on adopting a couple when she heard of it about a year ago, but due to a recent stud purchase, she decided she would adopt a herd’s worth. Her knew stallion would be imported within the next 4 weeks after his farm’s breeding season was over; it was part of the purchase deal.
They had traveled there to watch the actual round up and herding in which would take place the following day. Their plan was to watch them carefully, trying to pick the better of the stock. They would look for speed, conformation, intelligence, soundness, color, and durability.
Melody jumped from her truck and stretched, a groan escaping her as she did so. Richard met her and took in a breath. The air was crisp, fresh of the rains that followed them.
“Finally,” he said.
Melody nodded, still stretching, “I second that.”
“Let’s go find some food before the rain starts up again,” Richard suggested. They locked their trucks and headed off towards the small town.

Five miles down south another truck and trailer pulled into a lot. A small house sat in the middle of the muddy lot, surrounded by old cars, fences, and trash. The house itself looked about half way to being a demolishing sight. The paint had been stripped by the weather, and the boards were splintered and falling apart. Some windows were held up by pieces of wood. Behind on the old house were two corrals made of barbed wire and broken wood. In them were horses of black, red, and white, separated by gender. Some of the stallions fought, some pushed into the corners of the barbed wire fencing already beaten and mangled. The mares huddled in a tight group, trying to keep themselves warm. The manic personally of the breed seemed to wash away from the horses, half of them starving.
Here the stolen Harlequins would wait until they were sold for profit to either Circus’ or slaughters in Mexico or other countries. In the back of the trailer was Isaiah, half crazed from a three day travel with little food and no water. He kicked the trailer walls when it came to a stop. Rough hands banged on trailer’s side, trying to silence the horse.
“This one’s got a good personality,” a female voice said. Her tone had a hissing to it, like a snake he heard once. But in the uncurrent of her voice was that song. He knew it was the same woman that took him from his pasture.
“Maybe a Circus will take this one,” a gruff, male voice answered. His voice was as rough as sandpaper; years of smoking would do that to you. Isaiah could smell the faint stench of the cigarette.
They’re conversation went on for another ten minutes, in which time Isaiah heard thick rain drops pounding the trailer. It wasn’t until he heard the shriek of a challenging stallion that he cried out. Mares answered him, followed by the screams of other stallions. He heard the back gate of the trailer slam to the ground, then heard a piercing sound of another kind. Red and blue flashes filled the inside of the trailer, and Isaiah struggled to turn his head to see what the silent lights were. He heard shouts, and screams, but could not see them. The wailing of a siren went off, followed by a deafening shot that was fired into the air.
Fear built up in Isaiah, as he pulled back to the noise. The force broke the rope and he came stumbling backwards out of the trailer. Something caught his back feet and he slammed to the ground on his side.
“Someone grab that horse!” a voice shouted. It was then Isaiah saw what had been happened. Men dressed in black had rushed the house, behind them black and white cars with flashing lights. On the ground, face down in the mud, he saw a woman. He wondered if it was the same one he only saw in shapes. Then, a flash flew by his head, and in instinct he pulled away, tearing free of a hand holding his halter.
“GET HIM!” someone yelled. Isaiah reared, and spun his heels into the mud, smashing passed the humans rushing towards him. Flashes lit up the dark sky, throwing pale color onto the things around him.
He let out a cry and rushed the police cars. He saw a narrow path passed them.
“We’ve got him, boys! Get him, get him!” another person yelled, sure the horse would be blocked by the cars. Isaiah gained speed, his feet sure in the mud. He gathered himself and lifted off the ground. He tucked his feet under his chest and brought his powerful hind end up into the air. With a fluid like motion, he cleared the hood of the vehicle. The men watch, stunned. Isaiah’s landing wasn’t as graceful as his jump. His feet slipped from under him and he smashed to the ground. In panic he scrambled to his feet, mud plaster to his coat, but he kicked up his heels and bolted away from the property, flying blindly into the night.

Isaiah ran. He didn’t know how long he had traveled until his front feet were snagged by something on the shapeless ground. His head tucked underneath him, and he landed on his back into a shallow pool of mud. The horse rolled onto his side and lay on the ground, breathless with fear swelling within him. The rain stopped, though how long ago, he wasn’t sure. He pulled himself up, the mud making a sucking noise as he did so. He dragged his feet out of the tar-like substance and stood alone in a dark once he found solid ground. And updraft of wind brought the scent of others to him. The smell was musty, everything different from the freshly groomed horses that he knew, but it was familiar none-the-less. Unfortunately, with that scent, came the scent of a stallion. Isaiah followed downwind of the scent for the rest of the night; cold and dirty, but he wasn’t alone.

The next morning gave him little rest just as the night did. A sudden uproar of whirling kicked up dust and tumbleweeds. Isaiah heard the rush of hooves, but before he could react, a rush of panicked bodies smashed into him. They brought him to the ground. He watched as others leaped over him. He scrambled to his feet before he wasn’t as lucky as to have them jump. He heard a body crashed into the ground behind him as he leapt to his feet, but the stampede around him didn’t allow him to look back. He was hit on the face by dirt, rocks, and tails of other horses. They stung his already raw face, but he had no option but to run.

Melody leaned against a panel rail, hearing the faint thunder of hooves. “They’re coming!” she said excitedly, turning to Richard. Within minutes, the horses were barreling down the fenced off straight-away, screaming to one another as herds were broken up. They pushed against each other, bodies slamming into the fences. Richard and Melody watched carefully.
Isaiah saw the people, trying to scream to them as the heard pushed him forward. Melody watched them go by when Isaiah worn, tired, and hungry green eyes caught hers. Subconsciously she began to follow him down the fence until she lost sight of him. Richard pushed through the crowd to try and find her.
“I found one, Richard! She looked at me. She’s amazing!”
“Are you sure it’s a mare? We’re not leaving with a stud,” Richard corrected.
“I don’t know, but I just have to leave with that one..”

Throughout the day, the horses were separated as best as they could be by gender. Melody frowned when she couldn’t find the green-eyed horse in the mare pen. She tried the stallions.
“There!” she shouted excitedly, pointing so Richard could see. “I think he might be some kind of paint, but from here he looks perfect!” The mud had caked onto the stud’s coat, making it hard to see his true colors.
“I thought we agreed no stallions,” Richard said, then looked over at Isaiah. “That’s odd, he has a halter on.”
“Who cares? We have the room!”
Richard tugged her off the fence, “for 25, you act like you’re 10.”

Melody put her bid in on the young stallion after much begging of Richard. Stallions weren’t normally the first things to go, and after securing the bid for Isaiah, Melody and Richard went on to claim the mares they had picked from the herds.
The event covered a few days, and the CoaH horses were driven into a separate pen. The mares gathered together in one, lead mares picking out their dominance, and Isaiah alone in another, enjoying a flake of hay; his first real meal in three days. Melody began to notice some of the red peeking through the cracking mud of Isaiah’s coat and began to wonder.
It was when they were loading the horses that Melody knew her new stallion was not mustang like the rest. She was able to walk up to him and lead him by the itchy halter, which she eventually replaced with a soft, real rope halter, and noticed his head was dished, like that of her Arabians at home. She figured the stallion was released into the wild from an owner who didn’t want the horse any longer. She smiled, whispering little nothings to the horse, feeling blessed.

The mares were herded into the two trailers, one of which having Isaiah tied, and blocked from the others. They took special care to wrap the stallion’s legs, knowing the mares wouldn’t care to kick him on the ride home.
The two day drive went with little fault, and Melody was more excited than ever to give her stallion a proper home. The mares were released into a recently built pasture where they would be allowed time to calm themselves and become accustom to their new surrounds. Back acreage of the property had been rebuilt into new pastures and barns for the new mustangs and stallion, which would soon be arriving. The barn had been completely rebuilt with slightly larger stalls, and new pastures, some with just dirt, bushes and trees, others with lush grass, small ponds, and larger willows.

Melody took the stallion the opposite way of the new mustang acreage, and led him to an open wash rack. Isaiah nickered to all the sounds and horses, taking in all that could be seen.
It took hours of brushes, combs, soap, and water to rid Isaiah of the clay that had molded onto his coat, but in the end, Melody backed up, breathless of what came out of the mud.
“I.. can’t believe it,” she whispered, gazing at the Harlequin before her. His mane and tail had dried into a soft wave, and he turned his dished head to Melody.

That evening, she spent two hours watching the stallion graze in the pasture. Richard walked by her, “nice mustang,” he smiled jokingly.
She laughed, leaning her check against her arm, “yeah.”
Isaiah snorted, letting out a whinny to the others. He lifted his tail high, rising his head even higher, and trotted triumphantly and proud over the soft grass, silhouetted against the painted evening sky.

The next morning Richard and Melody walked through their local feed store, making their list of what to order of the month. She passed the billboard of horses for sale as she normally did, but something caught her attention this particular time.
She backed up a few steps and looked at a poster. Her heart nearly stopped.

STOLEN
BL Harlequin stallion.
2 and a half years of age.
Name is Isaiah.
Taken from the farms of Zero Gravity stables.
Reward.

And right there, on the poster, was the stallion she had brought home only yesterday. Her heart fell, and she stood there silent.
“Hey, you..” Richard stopped in, reading over the poster. He looked at her and whispered, “I’m sorry…”

Tears welded up in her eyes as she took special care to warp Isaiah’s legs, mane, and tail.
“Gotta look pretty for your return,” she choked, giving the horse her best smile. “What a pretty name you have..” she said, her voice disappearing into a whisper.
Damien had to load the horse as Melody turned away, tears sliding down her cheeks. She climbed into the passenger’s seat of the trucker, Richard looking over at her. “You’re doing the right thing,” he said. But for the entire ride, she said nothing.

Zero Gravity’s gates were wide open and handlers lining the entrance with the news of their returning champion. The entire drive, Melody had worked on perfecting the way of hiding her tears. Melody jumped from the truck and was greeting by the mistresses of the farm, tears already in her eyes.
“I don’t know how to thank you! And to think, the odds,” she said to Melody.
Melody bit her lip, noticing the tears in the owner’s eyes, already feeling them burn on the rim of her own. “I’m just glad I could help. I could only wish the same if it had happened to me,” she said, then quickly had to turn away. She acted as though she were going to help unload the horse so her tears would be unnoticed.
The mistress wasn’t a fool, and as she took the lead rope of her horse she look into Melody’s eyes, now dry once again. Melody smiled, but the mistress didn’t return the gesture. She looked over at Isaiah, looking him in eyes, then down his clean coat and beautiful build, then looked back at Melody, noticing her doing the same, her eyes once again shining wet.
The mistress sighed softly, then drew in a long breath, “You know, there is a reward to be given…”

ACHIEVEMENTS AND CHAMPIONSHIPS

DARK LAKE STABLES COMPETITION OF 2009
CLASS: Show Jumping
RANK: 24th with 8 pentalty points; refusal at water, 1 knockdown [triple combination]

LILIUM STABLES ARABIAN HORSE SHOW OF 2009
CLASS: Show Jumping
RANK: 4th

ZERO GRAVITY STABLES SHOW JUMPING OF 2009
CLASS: Intermediate
RANK: 1st

DT SHOW JUMPING EXTRAVAGANZA OF 2010
CLASS: Paired Team Jumping
RANK: 16th

EXTRA

Artist Note: Happy reading! Part two of my adoption of this horse.

Credits:

Horse Design ©
Artwork ©}