Herd Guardian

Hawley's approach to the farthest fields had been quite the trek; intermittent rain lowered visibility, his truck got stuck (more than once), and among all of that there were just about zero ponies visible in any of the pastures.

When he pulled up to the gate of the final field, he finally found them--the treasure at the end of the rainbow, the pot of gold, the... sopping wet, hairy beasts with a film of mud over their coats, caught in their feathers and highlighting their heavy manes with dirt.

Emerging from a tree line, though, there was a much cleaner pony, and as she stepped out to send off one of her lower ranking fellows, the spitting rain dissipated into mist. Her seal bay coat sprinkled with raindrops, sparkling lightly in the bright overcast weather, flashy white legs mostly clean from debris. She was incredibly striking, and had a cute snip to boot.

Her eye caught Hawley as he was standing at the gate, and she turned with a huff, wandering off to go nip at the little pony she was bossing around before. He also seemed more clean, but maybe just because he was a newcomer.

Hawley approached the herd quietly, having climbed over the gate as gracefully as he could and made his way partially through the muddy field. The mare had qualms with this, though, and her defensiveness of her herd prompted a trot out towards him to investigate the intruder. She arched her neck, posture tall and imposing despite her stature as a pony, and she huffed a breath at Hawley. He stepped back a ways, cautious yet still determined, and decided on a different approach.

His new approach lead him around the herd, giving the ponies a wide berth until he could catch the attention of the chestnut on the sidelines, his outstretched treat produced from a pocket an enticing gift. Said pony approached him willingly, leaving the herd to investigate their new friend and gladly taking a treat, with a little bell tied in his tail for good luck.

Confidence bolstered, he made his way closer to the main herd, his new buddy following close behind him and nudging his pocket for treats. He seemed far less feral than most of the others, more accustomed to humans and their ways, and Hawley figured that if he approached with one of their own... Maybe he could sneak a bell onto that pretty mare.

She caught wind of them easily, trotting up in posture once again, wavy mane tossed easily with a swing of her head. But there was a pause, somewhat, her sense of direction thrown off by Hawley's newfound red companion--he was new, yes, but if the gelding was okay with him, then was he really a threat? She huffed again, giving a sideways look before making her way around them in a distant semicircle.

Hawley kept an eye out, his awareness of the semi-feral mare never waning, even in the midst of handing the chestnut a few more treats. This seemed to entice the mare further, her circle slowly growing smaller, and smaller, and smaller, until she stopped again at her self-made boundary. Hawley held out a hand with a treat, a peace offering in these trying times.

"C'mere. I know you want one. You might not know yet, but I do." He gestured with the apple-flavored treat, extending it as far forward as possible in the tips of his fingers. The mare gave him a judgmental look, this ridiculous behavior unsuitable to condoning in her space, but... it was quite enticing.

Hawley stepped forward, just barely, enough to draw the mare in further. His companion followed, right in step with him, a welcome nose to investigate hair, or a pocket, or a boot. The mare hesitantly took her own steps forward, neck outstretched like Hawley's arm, her lip reaching out towards the treat in a futile attempt to ignore that it was a human trying to give it to her.

In the midst of their trials, it started spitting rain again, making way for soggy ponies (and Hawley) once more. The mare seemed bothered, yet she wanted to stay, but the rain was not something she wanted to stay out in.

Slowly, Hawley backed off, back to his little friend and ready to make his way around to the trees lining the pasture. A vain hope had prompted it, that maybe the mare would be curious enough to follow them, her dislike of the current weather and interest in the treat enough to get her to wander after the two.

Sure enough, it was, and the mare followed them at a distance. Hawley ducked under branches, the chestnut gelding following, and the mare... a very loose definition of following, but her drive to get out of the wet and the cold made her get closer to Hawley than ever before, his treat-laden hand a bigger curiosity than ever.

After much waffling, and steps forward and back, and a few pinned ears when Hawley approached too quickly, she gently plucked the treat out of his fingers, seemingly satisfied with her earnings. Hawley offered another, and after an unsure moment, she took it. Her whiskers tickled his hand, and the little gelding was occupied with a few more treats in his other.

Eventually, it evolved to pets--first the withers, then the neck, then her pretty head, silky soft hair beneath her forelock a lovely reward for his persuasive efforts. He fished a pair of bells out of his pocket, strung up on a green ribbon, and braided them into her mane, a battle in and of itself. An oversight to not bring a brush, really, but what semi-feral pony is going to let him brush them?

A few more scritches and a few more treats later, Hawley gave both of them a final goodbye and scurried away to get back in the safety of his truck, and to brave the harrowing journey back out of this remote area.