Etoile

'NEW GENE FOUND IN HUNGARIAN "TEDDY" COBS', read the headline in Horseman Monthly.

In smaller text below, it added:

'The new gene, thought to be similar in structure to mushroom dilute, has been named "Lavender" by equine researchers thanks to the purple hue it lends the ponies' coats. The first ponies bearing this gene were discovered among a remote Hungarian foundation herd last year. Initially thought to be a rare mutation or the result of accidental cross-breeding with an escaped domestic stallion, Lavender has now been established as a recessive gene similar to the Szívelova-specific 'teddy-eared' trait, requiring two copies to pass. It appears on all coats and across all dilutes, including cream, and can often appear at first glance to be similar to champagne. It may cause amber eyes.

A small number ponies carrying or displaying this gene have been designated for roundup later this year in order to integrate the gene into domestic Szívelova herds. Breeders are eager to acquire these individuals, whose striking colour perfectly complements their breed-typical docile temperaments and pleasing conformation."

Trevor finished the rest of the article, humming thoughtfully to himself. He, like many other Szívelova breeders around the world, was already aware of the gene - word had spread rapidly amongst their circle when the ponies had first been spotted. Keeping secrets from the dedicated, keen-eyed, and sometimes aggresively academic bunch was nearly impossible. The article only served to bring attention to more...casual... enjoyers of the breed. It would mean more eyes on the small herd of purple-hued horses, and more hands reaching for what Trevor was hoping to grab for himself. As it stood, there was only one stallion among the ponies designated for capture and sale. It would have been a cutthroat game even without the public awareness, and Trevor found himself resenting the article and what it represented for his chances at access to the new gene.

Rising to his feet, he tucked his chair under the spotless kitchen table and poured the rest of his lukewarm coffee away in the sink, washing and placing the mug on the drying rack. With the increased competition for the ponies, he'd have to start preparing early for the Ponikotes, or 'pony bonding day', as it was known locally. The thought of competing against the Academy's children for the chance at capture and purchase briefly gave him pause, but the fleeting sense of guilt was gone as soon as it had come. The children were welcome to the geldings, he thought. This line of work is competitive. I must stay on my game. 

He eyed the wall across from the kitchen's bay window, where a display cabinet overflowing with trophies and ribbons stood. Framed pictures of his best ponies through the years lined the wall next to it, their pricked ears and kindly expressions seeming to match the beaming smile he wore in each of the photos. It had been some time since he'd lost a competition; his meticulous planning, breeding, and training left little breathing room for others to catch up. Trevor was always a few years and a thousand steps ahead of his nearest competitor. For Trevor, love of the breed showed itself through proving his ponies' worth at every opportunity. It was nearly an obsession for him. He'd worked hard to build a barn of ponies showing the breed's special or most favourable traits, and enjoyed showing off the fruits of his labour.

The stallion he was targeting looked to be of above-average conformation for the breed. Clean legs and a properly structured shoulder and neck carriage meant the stallion would move nicely, Trevor knew. There were no videos of the pony available yet, but he was sure there would be closer to the Ponikotes. Maybe he'd go up to the range and have a look for himself - it wasn't against the rules of the event, so long as he stood a certain distance away to avoid interfering with the semi-wild herd. It would all come down to the bell ribbon in the stallion's mane, anyway. Whether Trevor formed an early bond with the horse or not was of little consequence. He merely wanted to catch a glimpse of the stallion with his own eyes. It was going to be worth the two-hour drive up to the town, and he'd bring gear with him to make a camping trip out of it in case the stallion didn't appear straight away. Yes, Trevor thought, a plan forming in his mind. This is the way forward. 

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A few weeks later, he stood at the edge of the paddock that served as the parking lot for the Ponikotes visitors. Excited children ran willy-nilly between the booths on the other side of the fence, bell ribbons in hand, and he'd spotted a few of the other breeders' trucks as he walked between the vehicles parked up. It was about as busy as he'd expected it would be; the Ponikotes was a popular event to begin with.

The bell ribbon he'd selected was pale blue, with a silver bell braided firmly into one end. It would complement the pony's coat well, should it stay in his mane for the duration of the capture period. Trevor was armed with all manner of treats and noisemakers in preparation to attract the pony's attention, but he doubted he'd need them; he'd had to make an active effort to stay away from the herd when the curious stallion had made his way over to him while he'd been reconnoitoring. 

With a deep breath, he adjusted his flat cap and headed towards the starting area. It was nearly time to head out onto the range, and Trevor wasn't going to waste a second.