~BSG: Eachna

[kastari]

Title:  Eachna
Author:  kastari
Summary:  Her search for the Zen master of the horse world led her to him.  
Characters:  Adama/Roslin
Rating:  T
Word Count:  300
Author’s Note:  Written for the 24th ar_drabbles challenge.  Prompt:  Alternate universe. 
Additional Note:  Several A/R shippers are gathering together at the watering hole to write a BSG ‘Western fic.’ Be forewarned.  I’m just the first one outta the gate with this little drabble teaser.    
Disclaimer:  I’m just playing in Universal’s sandbox.

Eachna

“This is Eachna.” Laura Roslin slowly approached the corner stall.  A tall, fiery red chestnut mare with a white star and a single white coronet band on her left hind foot watched warily, the whites of her eyes showing.  She made no move to approach them.  Instead, she pawed the floor and snorted a warning, her skin rippling and twitching with anxiety.

“Tigh tells me you’re the best.”

He raised an eyebrow.  “Saul Tigh?  So, that’s how you found me.” Bill Adama watched the horse’s nervous movement.

“She’s a magnificent animal, but psychologically damaged,” Roslin said.

“In some way, aren’t we all?” Bill met Laura’s hard, distrustful gaze.

Suddenly Eachna whirled.  She reared up, her scream shattering the afternoon stillness.  Then she bolted to the corner of the stall, turned, and faced them.  Her sleek body trembling, she shook her head violently.

“She's dangerous.” Bill said.

“In some way, aren’t we all?” Laura’s eyes held his.

~*~

The fence was two times higher than normal.  Moving closer, Bill peered through the rails.  The horse shifted uneasily and pawed the ground.

Picking up a handful of dirt, Bill tossed it into the paddock.  Eachna tossed her head, snorted an angry warning, and wheeled around the enclosure.  He could tell by the way she moved that there was lameness high up in her right foreleg.  Eachna stopped abruptly and turned, her ears pinned back.  Bill studied the wounded animal.  There was a terrible L-shaped scar about two feet long on her chest and another smaller one on her left cannon bone.  It appeared that her nasal bone had been hideously crunched in.  Her grotesquely scarred muzzle was tilted up at him, as if daring him to move again.  She was panting in short, nervy snorts.

He wondered if the horse was beyond saving.

~*~