HOME | DD

Description
Dahlia tossed and turned left and right on her small cot, ruffling up her thin covers. The lights in the loft above the barn weren't on; only the eerie, soft, faded glow of a distant moon could be vaguely perceived filtering its meek rays through the wide window in her bedroom, casting pallid strips on her carpet. The assistant trainer could not sleep a wink. She had helped the stable's head trainer start breaking in a few of the farm's colts today, and so logically, she should be wiped out. Yet some mysterious force was preventing her from shutting her eyes and drifting into a slumbering state.
Finally, with an exasperated sigh, she irately flung the covers off of her body and turned on her bedside lamp before sitting up.

"This is ridiculous," she murmured to herself in frustration.

Rubbing her eyes lightly, the young woman got to her feet, slid on a pair of bunny slippers and marched off towards the small kitchenette in the other room.
Unlike all of her friends who thought it was outrageously hick, Dahlia didn't mind living in a loft above a barn. It often didn't seem to have many perks, but she couldn't care less. She even usually enjoyed hearing the muffled ruckus of the horses stomping, squealing, kicking and huffing below the floorboards, in the middle of the night.
Mutely, she poured herself a glass of milk from the noisy fridge and peaked out of the nearby window, as if to inspect if it was truly nighttime. She felt wide awake, now. And the shimmering, twinkling stars in the indigo veil overhead didn't seem to reassure her. Humming quietly to herself, Dahlia tried in vain to find something she could do to keep busy.
A puzzle? she thought inwardly, while glancing to the bookshelf. Okay, I'm not THAT desperate, her mind argued. Maybe I can check up on that mare that's due soon...

With this new idea feeding her actions, Dahlia smirked at her own brilliance and dashed down the staircase to the main floor, where the horses resided. Upon opening the door to the stables, she smiled and switched on the light. A cacophony of varied whinnies and neighs immediately reached her ears.
"Sorry, guys, it's not breakfast yet," she giggled and gently walked down the long aisle of stalls, her bunny slippers making a distinct hiss as they glided over the tiled floor of the hall.

Finally, the woman arrived to her desired destination. She peaked inside the vast double-box stall that had a golden name plate at the door, which read “DD Juanita” in intricate, engraved lettering. Instantly, though, Dahlia's face went from curious and chirpy to devastated. What she saw inside sent her heart and her mind racing wildly.

"What the hell?" she exhaled, wide-eyed, as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

In front of her, amidst the thick straw bedding, the dunalino Mustang was laying on her side, her back facing the girl, and her enormous stomach convulsing and heaving with laborious effort. The pregnant mare was drenched in a layer of sweat, which darkened her usually sandy coat by a few shades.

"But you're not due 'til at least two weeks from now!" Dahlia yelped while remembering what she had overheard Dr. Jobin telling her superior. Yet this was not the only thing making her not want to believe what she was seeing.
Just from a brief glance to the state in which the brood was in, Dahlia could very easily tell something was dreadfully wrong. Carefully and quietly, she slowly slid open the stall door and tip-toed inside, all while murmuring sweet words to the laying Mustang. Interestingly enough, the mare only acknowledged the girl with a loud snort and a light raise of her head, but otherwise pretended to ignore her entirely.
Dahlia positioned herself to the rear of the animal, so as to better view what was going on back there. What she saw made her blood run cold. Her face immediately drained of all color, and in that instant, she knew that lives were at risk, tonight.

"Shit, shit, shit..." she mumbled frantically, and knelt beside the mare.
Dahlia was no vet, but she knew that what she was witnessing was not a normal delivery. Instead of the usual opaque, whiteish bubble emerging from the vulva, she was now gawking at velvety red substance. Never a good sign. She hoped Juanita hadn't come into labor too long ago, or else her unborn baby might never see the light of day, alive.
She considered calling up the veterinarian in charge of Juanita, but scratched that idea quickly when she concluded it would take her a good twenty minutes to get out of bed and drive up to the farm, even if she did live quite near. Dahlia then thought of the farm owner, who lived about a mile down the dirt path that connected the barn to the farmhouse. Although she could certainly get here sooner, it would still take quite a few minutes. In any case, she didn't have her cell phone on her, and going to fetch it would waste precious time she couldn't afford to lose. Dahlia was thus left entirely alone. She had to do something to save this foal's life, if it wasn't too late. The young girl thought frenetically, trying to remember what she had read as a teen, about horse pregnancies, birthing and dystocia. She knew that this was a red-bag delivery, but had a hard time recalling what it was she was supposed to do to fix it.

The foal will die because it can't breathe, she reminded herself.

"Premature separation of the placenta," she then whispered. "The placenta's supposed to come later, after the foal."

Dahlia then did what she thought was best.
She figured that the worst case scenario was that the foal was going to die anyway, and so, anything that she did couldn't do more harm, and might even bear a slight possibility of rescuing the foal.

Sliding her fingers to the red bag, the woman attempted to tear the thick, fibrous tissue with her nails. It was far more difficult than she thought it would be. Finally, she pierced a hole in the material, and attempted to peak inside. She didn't quite know what she was expecting to see. A happy, bright-eyed foal pop out of the tiny puncture? Grunting to herself, Dahlia spread the gap wider, until she could clearly see inside. To her surprise, she found a white matter, laced with liquids she didn't even want to think about. Could this be the amnion? Hurriedly throwing her bare hands into the opening, she delved, elbow-deep, into the warm gunk until she felt what she knew could only be one thing: an unborn baby horse's limbs and its characteristic little nose through the thick membrane, which she then pierced as well. With all of her might, and in time with the mare's forceful contractions, the woman heaved the fetus by the fore legs, until suddenly, it gushed out into her lap, the flushing after-birth fluids drenching her pink ducky pajamas and white tank top in a sickening slosh sound. The pale newborn lay in her bloody arms for a moment, half of its body still enwrapped in the white bag it had called home for eleven months. Dahlia merely gaped at the creature as though it were an alien from Jupiter. Within a couple of seconds, however, a wet ear twitched and a pair of wide eyes soon began to flutter open. She now felt the foal's sides heaving against her torso with every fresh breath it took.

"Wow," Dahlia simply stated bluntly, lacking the originality to find better words in that instant, as she admired the infant. "You have long eyelashes."

After fetching a towel and drying off the baby's nose, mouth and eyes a bit while Annie licked the foal clean, Dahlia dashed upstairs, tracking in manure, blood and afterbirth into the loft apartment. She swiftly phoned the ranch owner, as well as the mare vet.
After a few riveting minutes in which the girl relayed the night's recent events, Dr. Jobin uttered something that Dahlia would never forget in her lifetime.

"You do realize you saved that foal's life, right?"

----------

*dies* I think I'm too productive, here, lol.

So, here's Annie's little mystery kiddo, Lucía. Hope you guys like her design. I didn't get many suggestions for the foal, so I just improvised. I'll be hunting out some studdlings for Annie's next foal, soon!
As for the realism in the story, don't annoy me with that, please. It's not meant to be perfectly realistic. I just wanted a bit of entertainment, nothing factual. xP

My hands huuuurt!

----------

Registered Name: DD Lucía
Barn Name: Lou
Gender: Filly
D.O.B.: 23/08/2009
Breed: American Mustang
Bloodline: [unknown stallion] x DD Juanita
Phenotype: Perlino tobiano
Eyes: Blue
Genotype: AA- / E- CrCr / nT / nSb
Height: N/A
Build: N/A
Breeder: [wild-bred]
Owner/trainer: ~Hazel-rah of Double Dance.
Temperament: A bit fearful and wary of humans at the moment, but with a lot of handling and TLC, we're certain she'll grow out of it. Otherwise, she's spunky and frivolous, despite our fears that she may become frail or prone to illness due to the birth complications.
Discipline(s): N/A
History: Born at DD.
Awards & Winnings: N/A
Offspring: N/A
Restrictions: Must be bred to realistic Mustang (American, Kiger, Spanish, crossed or other) stallions only (DevNote me to discuss otherwise.)
Availability: Currently unavailable for private leases.

Art & character © ~Hazel-rah
HorseArt-RPG © ~moonfeather

Description
Dahlia tossed and turned left and right on her small cot, ruffling up her thin covers. The lights in the loft above the barn weren't on; only the eerie, soft, faded glow of a distant moon could be vaguely perceived filtering its meek rays through the wide window in her bedroom, casting pallid strips on her carpet. The assistant trainer could not sleep a wink. She had helped the stable's head trainer start breaking in a few of the farm's colts today, and so logically, she should be wiped out. Yet some mysterious force was preventing her from shutting her eyes and drifting into a slumbering state.
Finally, with an exasperated sigh, she irately flung the covers off of her body and turned on her bedside lamp before sitting up.

"This is ridiculous," she murmured to herself in frustration.

Rubbing her eyes lightly, the young woman got to her feet, slid on a pair of bunny slippers and marched off towards the small kitchenette in the other room.
Unlike all of her friends who thought it was outrageously hick, Dahlia didn't mind living in a loft above a barn. It often didn't seem to have many perks, but she couldn't care less. She even usually enjoyed hearing the muffled ruckus of the horses stomping, squealing, kicking and huffing below the floorboards, in the middle of the night.
Mutely, she poured herself a glass of milk from the noisy fridge and peaked out of the nearby window, as if to inspect if it was truly nighttime. She felt wide awake, now. And the shimmering, twinkling stars in the indigo veil overhead didn't seem to reassure her. Humming quietly to herself, Dahlia tried in vain to find something she could do to keep busy.
A puzzle? she thought inwardly, while glancing to the bookshelf. Okay, I'm not THAT desperate, her mind argued. Maybe I can check up on that mare that's due soon...

With this new idea feeding her actions, Dahlia smirked at her own brilliance and dashed down the staircase to the main floor, where the horses resided. Upon opening the door to the stables, she smiled and switched on the light. A cacophony of varied whinnies and neighs immediately reached her ears.
"Sorry, guys, it's not breakfast yet," she giggled and gently walked down the long aisle of stalls, her bunny slippers making a distinct hiss as they glided over the tiled floor of the hall.

Finally, the woman arrived to her desired destination. She peaked inside the vast double-box stall that had a golden name plate at the door, which read “DD Juanita” in intricate, engraved lettering. Instantly, though, Dahlia's face went from curious and chirpy to devastated. What she saw inside sent her heart and her mind racing wildly.

"What the hell?" she exhaled, wide-eyed, as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

In front of her, amidst the thick straw bedding, the dunalino Mustang was laying on her side, her back facing the girl, and her enormous stomach convulsing and heaving with laborious effort. The pregnant mare was drenched in a layer of sweat, which darkened her usually sandy coat by a few shades.

"But you're not due 'til at least two weeks from now!" Dahlia yelped while remembering what she had overheard Dr. Jobin telling her superior. Yet this was not the only thing making her not want to believe what she was seeing.
Just from a brief glance to the state in which the brood was in, Dahlia could very easily tell something was dreadfully wrong. Carefully and quietly, she slowly slid open the stall door and tip-toed inside, all while murmuring sweet words to the laying Mustang. Interestingly enough, the mare only acknowledged the girl with a loud snort and a light raise of her head, but otherwise pretended to ignore her entirely.
Dahlia positioned herself to the rear of the animal, so as to better view what was going on back there. What she saw made her blood run cold. Her face immediately drained of all color, and in that instant, she knew that lives were at risk, tonight.

"Shit, shit, shit..." she mumbled frantically, and knelt beside the mare.
Dahlia was no vet, but she knew that what she was witnessing was not a normal delivery. Instead of the usual opaque, whiteish bubble emerging from the vulva, she was now gawking at velvety red substance. Never a good sign. She hoped Juanita hadn't come into labor too long ago, or else her unborn baby might never see the light of day, alive.
She considered calling up the veterinarian in charge of Juanita, but scratched that idea quickly when she concluded it would take her a good twenty minutes to get out of bed and drive up to the farm, even if she did live quite near. Dahlia then thought of the farm owner, who lived about a mile down the dirt path that connected the barn to the farmhouse. Although she could certainly get here sooner, it would still take quite a few minutes. In any case, she didn't have her cell phone on her, and going to fetch it would waste precious time she couldn't afford to lose. Dahlia was thus left entirely alone. She had to do something to save this foal's life, if it wasn't too late. The young girl thought frenetically, trying to remember what she had read as a teen, about horse pregnancies, birthing and dystocia. She knew that this was a red-bag delivery, but had a hard time recalling what it was she was supposed to do to fix it.

The foal will die because it can't breathe, she reminded herself.

"Premature separation of the placenta," she then whispered. "The placenta's supposed to come later, after the foal."

Dahlia then did what she thought was best.
She figured that the worst case scenario was that the foal was going to die anyway, and so, anything that she did couldn't do more harm, and might even bear a slight possibility of rescuing the foal.

Sliding her fingers to the red bag, the woman attempted to tear the thick, fibrous tissue with her nails. It was far more difficult than she thought it would be. Finally, she pierced a hole in the material, and attempted to peak inside. She didn't quite know what she was expecting to see. A happy, bright-eyed foal pop out of the tiny puncture? Grunting to herself, Dahlia spread the gap wider, until she could clearly see inside. To her surprise, she found a white matter, laced with liquids she didn't even want to think about. Could this be the amnion? Hurriedly throwing her bare hands into the opening, she delved, elbow-deep, into the warm gunk until she felt what she knew could only be one thing: an unborn baby horse's limbs and its characteristic little nose through the thick membrane, which she then pierced as well. With all of her might, and in time with the mare's forceful contractions, the woman heaved the fetus by the fore legs, until suddenly, it gushed out into her lap, the flushing after-birth fluids drenching her pink ducky pajamas and white tank top in a sickening slosh sound. The pale newborn lay in her bloody arms for a moment, half of its body still enwrapped in the white bag it had called home for eleven months. Dahlia merely gaped at the creature as though it were an alien from Jupiter. Within a couple of seconds, however, a wet ear twitched and a pair of wide eyes soon began to flutter open. She now felt the foal's sides heaving against her torso with every fresh breath it took.

"Wow," Dahlia simply stated bluntly, lacking the originality to find better words in that instant, as she admired the infant. "You have long eyelashes."

After fetching a towel and drying off the baby's nose, mouth and eyes a bit while Annie licked the foal clean, Dahlia dashed upstairs, tracking in manure, blood and afterbirth into the loft apartment. She swiftly phoned the ranch owner, as well as the mare vet.
After a few riveting minutes in which the girl relayed the night's recent events, Dr. Jobin uttered something that Dahlia would never forget in her lifetime.

"You do realize you saved that foal's life, right?"

----------

*dies* I think I'm too productive, here, lol.

So, here's Annie's little mystery kiddo, Lucía. Hope you guys like her design. I didn't get many suggestions for the foal, so I just improvised. I'll be hunting out some studdlings for Annie's next foal, soon!
As for the realism in the story, don't annoy me with that, please. It's not meant to be perfectly realistic. I just wanted a bit of entertainment, nothing factual. xP

My hands huuuurt!

----------

Registered Name: DD Lucía
Barn Name: Lou
Gender: Filly
D.O.B.: 23/08/2009
Breed: American Mustang
Bloodline: [unknown stallion] x DD Juanita
Phenotype: Perlino tobiano
Eyes: Blue
Genotype: AA- / E- CrCr / nT / nSb
Height: N/A
Build: N/A
Breeder: [wild-bred]
Owner/trainer: ~Hazel-rah of Double Dance.
Temperament: A bit fearful and wary of humans at the moment, but with a lot of handling and TLC, we're certain she'll grow out of it. Otherwise, she's spunky and frivolous, despite our fears that she may become frail or prone to illness due to the birth complications.
Discipline(s): N/A
History: Born at DD.
Awards & Winnings: N/A
Offspring: N/A
Restrictions: Must be bred to realistic Mustang (American, Kiger, Spanish, crossed or other) stallions only (DevNote me to discuss otherwise.)
Availability: Currently unavailable for private leases.

Art & character © ~Hazel-rah
HorseArt-RPG © ~moonfeather