Post by The Smith on May 22, 2008 14:25:22 GMT -5
“How is she doing?” Aranya asked, entering her stables with her master of horse in the mid-afternoon. Aranya had come home to Duskendale for a few days, longing to see her other children besides Brynden and Daeron, and bring Wulf home. She also wanted to check on her horses, especially as several broodmares were pregnant again.
“Very happy and calm, my lady,” assured Aranya’s master of horse, Osmund. They reached Autumn’s stall, and the bright-eyed chestnut mare put her head over the stall and nosed Osmund first, then blew on Aranya’s hand and nibbled up her sleeve while Aranya stroked her neck. The chestnut mare was round now, heavy with her second foal, this time by Winterfrost. “She needs more bedding,” Aranya decided, after eyeing Autumn’s stall critically. “See that someone put more straw down there immediately, Osmund.”
“Yes, my lady.” Osmund signaled to a stableboy, who sped off on nimble feet to fetch more straw. “Did you see her colt in the yard? Going to be a bright bay like his sire, I think. We’re keeping the older foals together in the pasture, and letting them run together like you instructed, my lady.”
“Autumn’s colt must be nine months old now, and those others are all about six months old, aren’t they, the ones we saw in the yard?” Aranya said, as they proceeded to Wenhaver’s stall. “The weaning going well?”
“As well as it can, I think.” They reached the stall of Aranya’s grey mare, Wenhaver, who had birthed a foal in Aranya’s absence and was now heavy with another, both by Sunspear. “Hello, old girl,” Aranya said softly, stroking Wenhaver’s velvet nose. “Looks like we are both new mothers again.” She noticed the overflowing feed in her trough. “Why are you feeding her that much?” Aranya frowned.
Osmund looked surprised. “Well, she’s pregnant, and we thought…”
“Overfeeding her, especially during the early months, is going to lead to weight problems when the foal is ready to come out, and it can lead to difficulties during her foaling." Aranya had learned that through experience. "Cut that down by half, at least, and put all the broodmares out to the pasture. They need exercise.” Aranya noticed that they had not given Autumn enough bedding, but were careful to feed Wenhaver well as she was Aranya’s favorite horse. She did not think there was any malice in their actions, just thoughtlessness, but that was just as bad.
She took the broodmare out to the pasture with the grooms, leading both Wenhaver and Autumn, who flicked her tail playfully at the grey mare. The other mares seemed to be doing well. Honeybee, a young golden mare, was in the last months of her gestation and expected to throw her first foal soon, and Aranya hoped the foal would have its mother’s sprinting ability. Ambrose, the elegant rose grey from Greycopse, had had difficulties getting pregnant, but was now in her third month with her first foal. Peachblossom, a stout, middle-aged brown mare who had already thrown four foals, was newly seeded with her fifth, the lines of her body made heavy by motherhood. Despite her age and gradually thickening body, Peachblossom was an extremely valuable broodmare, for each of the foals she had thrown had extraordinary speed, staying power and soundness, with limbs of steel and tough, durable bodies. Wildfire and Arrow were speedy coal-black mares, and Ladyhawke was a horse of extraordinary endurance and had a high-stepping, graceful action. The last pregnant mare in the party, Kitty, had a sleek, streamlined body and was a little smaller than the other mares, but she was a remarkable animal. Captain Snow had sired her on a nimble desert mare, and Kitty was a hardy, tough little mare with swift turns of speed and was extremely sensitive and attentive to her trainers, intelligent and eager to please.
Aranya had added each of these mares to her breeding program for a reason. Each mare contributed with certain traits that she wanted to breed for, and she expected high performance abilities from their foals. All the mares from Greycopse had been bred to Winterfrost and Bonfire, while Sunspear was mated with the Duskendale mares. In the next generation, she would switch the partners to keep the bloodlines correctly mixed and keep certain crosses in each horse’s pedigree.
The nine pregnant mares were turned out to the pasture, joining several other mares there who were either recovering from pregnancy, raising their young, o r simply unsuccessful so far in getting pregnant. Some of the little foals trotted up to inspect Aranya, curious and friendly, whisking their curly little tails, gazing at her through long eyelashes. Aranya laughed and played with them, noting their leggy look and fine, straight limbs with approval. She gave instructions on the feeding for the foals, to supplement their diet of milk and grass with other grains, but to not overload them. Aranya wanted to breed Blackdusks for soundness, endurance and durability as well as high speed and endurance. She had seen too many horses that were hothouse colts – bred mainly for their fashionably sleek and graceful appearance, but weak in the bone, never raised naturally, and in the end, they were unreliable in battle, or they easily snapped their limbs and died.
After tending to the horses for a while, Aranya began to grow tired, which was often the case these days – she was recovering from pregnancy herself. She knew she would have to feed Wulf before she went to bed, and decided to go do it before he woke up and bawled. With a last pat to Wenhaver, she turned and returned to the castle.
Result:
Aranya gains Novice in Breeding
“Very happy and calm, my lady,” assured Aranya’s master of horse, Osmund. They reached Autumn’s stall, and the bright-eyed chestnut mare put her head over the stall and nosed Osmund first, then blew on Aranya’s hand and nibbled up her sleeve while Aranya stroked her neck. The chestnut mare was round now, heavy with her second foal, this time by Winterfrost. “She needs more bedding,” Aranya decided, after eyeing Autumn’s stall critically. “See that someone put more straw down there immediately, Osmund.”
“Yes, my lady.” Osmund signaled to a stableboy, who sped off on nimble feet to fetch more straw. “Did you see her colt in the yard? Going to be a bright bay like his sire, I think. We’re keeping the older foals together in the pasture, and letting them run together like you instructed, my lady.”
“Autumn’s colt must be nine months old now, and those others are all about six months old, aren’t they, the ones we saw in the yard?” Aranya said, as they proceeded to Wenhaver’s stall. “The weaning going well?”
“As well as it can, I think.” They reached the stall of Aranya’s grey mare, Wenhaver, who had birthed a foal in Aranya’s absence and was now heavy with another, both by Sunspear. “Hello, old girl,” Aranya said softly, stroking Wenhaver’s velvet nose. “Looks like we are both new mothers again.” She noticed the overflowing feed in her trough. “Why are you feeding her that much?” Aranya frowned.
Osmund looked surprised. “Well, she’s pregnant, and we thought…”
“Overfeeding her, especially during the early months, is going to lead to weight problems when the foal is ready to come out, and it can lead to difficulties during her foaling." Aranya had learned that through experience. "Cut that down by half, at least, and put all the broodmares out to the pasture. They need exercise.” Aranya noticed that they had not given Autumn enough bedding, but were careful to feed Wenhaver well as she was Aranya’s favorite horse. She did not think there was any malice in their actions, just thoughtlessness, but that was just as bad.
She took the broodmare out to the pasture with the grooms, leading both Wenhaver and Autumn, who flicked her tail playfully at the grey mare. The other mares seemed to be doing well. Honeybee, a young golden mare, was in the last months of her gestation and expected to throw her first foal soon, and Aranya hoped the foal would have its mother’s sprinting ability. Ambrose, the elegant rose grey from Greycopse, had had difficulties getting pregnant, but was now in her third month with her first foal. Peachblossom, a stout, middle-aged brown mare who had already thrown four foals, was newly seeded with her fifth, the lines of her body made heavy by motherhood. Despite her age and gradually thickening body, Peachblossom was an extremely valuable broodmare, for each of the foals she had thrown had extraordinary speed, staying power and soundness, with limbs of steel and tough, durable bodies. Wildfire and Arrow were speedy coal-black mares, and Ladyhawke was a horse of extraordinary endurance and had a high-stepping, graceful action. The last pregnant mare in the party, Kitty, had a sleek, streamlined body and was a little smaller than the other mares, but she was a remarkable animal. Captain Snow had sired her on a nimble desert mare, and Kitty was a hardy, tough little mare with swift turns of speed and was extremely sensitive and attentive to her trainers, intelligent and eager to please.
Aranya had added each of these mares to her breeding program for a reason. Each mare contributed with certain traits that she wanted to breed for, and she expected high performance abilities from their foals. All the mares from Greycopse had been bred to Winterfrost and Bonfire, while Sunspear was mated with the Duskendale mares. In the next generation, she would switch the partners to keep the bloodlines correctly mixed and keep certain crosses in each horse’s pedigree.
The nine pregnant mares were turned out to the pasture, joining several other mares there who were either recovering from pregnancy, raising their young, o r simply unsuccessful so far in getting pregnant. Some of the little foals trotted up to inspect Aranya, curious and friendly, whisking their curly little tails, gazing at her through long eyelashes. Aranya laughed and played with them, noting their leggy look and fine, straight limbs with approval. She gave instructions on the feeding for the foals, to supplement their diet of milk and grass with other grains, but to not overload them. Aranya wanted to breed Blackdusks for soundness, endurance and durability as well as high speed and endurance. She had seen too many horses that were hothouse colts – bred mainly for their fashionably sleek and graceful appearance, but weak in the bone, never raised naturally, and in the end, they were unreliable in battle, or they easily snapped their limbs and died.
After tending to the horses for a while, Aranya began to grow tired, which was often the case these days – she was recovering from pregnancy herself. She knew she would have to feed Wulf before she went to bed, and decided to go do it before he woke up and bawled. With a last pat to Wenhaver, she turned and returned to the castle.
Result:
Aranya gains Novice in Breeding