Pinwheel Claim Attempt 2

The sky was painted in watercolor blues and whites, soft clouds drifting lazily as a breeze rustled the golden grasses of the open pasture. Taylor knelt in the field with quiet concentration, her hands gently weaving the last loop of a braid into a thick strand of mane. The strands were the color of burnished rosewood and white smoke, each one catching the light as the dappled red roan mare shifted her weight from one hind leg to the other. To the blonde's surprise, getting close to the wild cob had been simple. All it had taken was the shake of her hand with a treat clutched in between two fingers, and the red roan had come trotting over to her. And now, Pinwheel stood like a state - well, mostly. She had the air of a troublemaker, a certain glint in her eye like the field around her was a stage and every passing bird or shifting breeze might cue her next act.

Over the years of catching wild little cobs, the blonde had learned to be quick, methodical and - above all - distracting when it came to braiding. Today, her secret weapon was singing as she braided a small golden bell, polished to a glint and tied with a slim piece of blue cord to the mare's mane. "Mhm, you'll be so pretty-", the woman hummed, her fingers deft as she finally tied the final knot and slid the bell into place, nestled just behind the roan's ears, "Ah, yes, now you look even more like a dream." Pinwheel flicked one ear back towards the soft jingle. Taylor then stood, dusting off her jeans and admiring her handiwork. The bell shimmered against the dappled tones of Pinwheel's mane, catching the sunlight like a charm worn by royalty. But then the mare's ears swiveled and her eyes shifted.

"Oh no-", Taylor whispered, sensing the wild cob's mischief like a storm in the air. With a violent shake of her neck - quick and full of attitude - Pinwheel sent the braid into a chaotic unravel. The bell jostled, wobbled, and within seconds, plopped into the grass. The woman blinked, "Did you just-" Pinwheel lowered her head immediately. "No. No, no, no - you little rascal!", but it was too late. With a quick flick of her lips and a flash of teeth, the mare plucked the bell off the ground like a forbidden toy and, with a spark in her eye, ran. Taylor's jaw dropped, "You little thief!" The red roan mare tossed her head, gold bell dangling from her mouth, and cantered through the tall grass like it was a game she had invented just for the occasion. The grass parted beneath her hooves in soft waves, her dapples shimmering with every stride. The bell clinked and chimed with a merry, chaotic rhythm as Pinwheel galloped across the field, her tail flagged high. Taylor took off after her.

"I just braided that in!", she yelled, her breath already catching in her throat, but Pinwheel wasn't listening. The mare was reveling as she zigzagged through a patch of wildflowers, her hooves barely skimming the ground as her mane streamed behind her like fire in the wind. Taylor stumbled through the grass, laughing now despite herself. "You're lucky you're pretty!", she huffed, and eventually, Pinwheel slowed just enough to look back over her shoulder, still trotting. Her ears were forward, her eyes bright, that annoying bell hanging like a prize from her lips... but then she bolted again. The blonde cursed under her breath, dodging a low branch and nearly losing a boot to a hidden dip in the earth, "Seriously? You're parading like you won something!" And Pinwheel indeed acted like she had. She pranced sideways, tossing her head, giving a small buck just for flair, the jingling bell giving a loud clang against her teeth.

Finally, after what felt like miles but was more like three or four enthusiastic laps around the field, she slowed. Whether it was the heat or simple boredom that finally won, Pinwheel's trot faded into a walk, her body still pulsing with pride. Taylor approached slowly, her hands on her hips, breathing hard, "Jesus. You done showing off now?" The mare snorted and dropped the bell with a soft clink. "Thank you.", the woman reached down and scooped it up before the mare could change her mind. It was slick with grass and warm from her mouth, but otherwise intact. "You are-", Taylor mumbled, hesitantly pressing a hand against the red roan's shoulder, "An absolute menace. I hope you know that." The woman finally turned the bell over in her hand and smiled, "Okay... round two?"