The sallow stud paced to and fro, hitched to his seller's trailer with a bag of hay tied before his head. He snatched at the stalks in a worried fashion, snapping a wide-brimmed gaze around in a million directions at once. Why was he brought here? This wasn't like the show grounds he had so often frequented. The feeling was different; subtle, yet different all the same. The other horses around him seemed to be of the same perturbed mentality to some degree, which didn't help settle him. To top it off, the stranger who had picked him up from home and unloaded him here was no where to be found. He happened to be off registering for the sale and would be back any moment, but for now, Bud was not content with the situation.

Red Bud's Golden View
Age - 9 Years Old
Stats - Stallion / 16.2hh / 1250 lbs. / Palomino / Stripe
Status - For Sale
Affiliations - TWHBEA / NWHATR
Discipline - Driving / Saddle Seat / Trail

A hurried whip around brought the robust sallow equine in a 180 degree turn as he searched the area for some kind of familiarity. He was a stud who relied on something constant, for he'd been born and raised by the same person his entire life. Knowing only one person left him incredibly dependent on that individual for emotional security. Now, that was completely uprooted and Bud wasn't on board with the change. An open-mouthed bellow shook his body as he hollered across the yards in a desperate attempt for something he recognized to respond and quell his worry. The attempt was in vain, as it merely invoked a chain reaction of neighs to echo about the area. Nothing he recognized. It was as he made his second 180 flip that he nearly slammed into the man who had approached him. Startling in place, he immediately through his face against this new person's chest as he actively fished for some kind of affection or reassurance. He was out of his element, and out of his territory. He couldn't even stake claim to the trailer he was tied to for he'd never seen it before today and it smelled nothing like him. Poor Bud just needed some encouragement.

A pudgy beast of a man waddled up out of nowhere just as Bud found his new friend, a slobbery and chewed up cigar lodged squarely in his teeth. He reeked of old liquor and cheap cigars, a worn expression on his face that seemed to have been there most his life. With a huff, he leaned his fat shoulder against the tailgate of the truck, eying the newcomer as if concerned he was about to waste his breath on him. "Can I help you?" Judging by outward appearance, the man merely assumed this new arrival was sightseeing and nothing else.

Yep, this guy was going to waste his time; the pudgy grunt inwardly groaned and rubbed his face with an exasperated sigh. A long pause lingered between the two and with a huff, he rolled his shoulders as he responded. "$4K. Take it or walk." Of course he marked up the price, consignment fees were something any third party seller took and if he could walk away with an extra grand in his pocket, it was a damn good day. He honestly didn't believe this first interested party would find the animal worth anything around that price range, but then again he utterly detested gaited types. All a bunch of hot air balloons looking pretty for the crowd. But then again, there wasn't really any type of horse he liked. Except for one - the kind that made him money.

Bud was ready to be rid of the stinky man and at this point, anyone was better than him. A hypersensitive stud, the Walker was in a hurry to go anywhere but here. Forehead planted firmly against the new arrival, he puffed once through his lips before jerking his head up at the resounding call of some distant mare. Frozen in a parked out stance, head high and eyes keen, Bud searched the horizon for whoever made the call and saw nothing. He was a ladies' man at heart, of course how many studs weren't? Sucking in a deep breath, his mouth opened wide and he bellowed back to the initial voice. The voice was high pitched and throaty, his tail carried upright in excitement as the excess billowed behind him when the warm breeze picked up. Impatience was beginning to set in. Bud had seen enough of this trailer. Striking out with an angry pawing gesture, he nearly knocked into Ilya by accident. Nothing personal, Bud was just ready for a change of scenery.


OOC: I swear I'll pick up the pace once we get past this part. For some reason, I just can't find grounds to expand on the scenario. I suck. (lol)

Shock was definitely one of the emotions that streaked over the hardened face of the salesman. And it beamed blatantly from his jagged features. Without hesitation, he snatched the slip of paper away from Ilya and folded it into his shirt pocket. Thank god, he could leave this wretched town sooner than planned. He had expected to be stuck there the entire day just trying to push this stud onto someone. He was on his way back to liquor himself up enough to put on a cheery facade just to make the sale when he had stumbled upon Ilya upon his return. Anyone standing between him and a drink was always at the top of his shit list, hence the unwelcoming demeanor. With a half-attempted flip of his hand in a gesture for Ilya to wait, the man waddled in penguin fashion to the cab of the truck and heaved his weight into the driver's seat. In seconds he was on his feet again and shuffling back to the stud, thrusting the manila in Ilya's direction. "Registration paperwork is in there, along with the transfer of ownership. Any other questions, the previous owner's number is written on the inside of the folder." As he spoke, the nubbed cigar fell from his teeth and he swore as it landed in the dirt. Writing it off with a grumble, stubby arms reached up to untie the twelve foot cotton lead from the trailer and then shoved it into Ilya's hands. With a huff, he spun on toe and staggered back to his beat-up diesel, sparking it up and driving away with dirt devils in tow.

The stud shied away to the side as the truck's tires spun out upon acceleration, snorting in disdain at the emotional upheaval. Bud watched with a perplexed expression as the trailer disappeared from sight. Great, what now? Forgetting he had company amongst him, Bud spaced out and went to walk off until he hit the end of the lead and jerked around to see what held him back. Oh, you! With bright eyes, he looked upon Ilya with a 'where to, boss?' inquiry about him. He was far too out of his element to start testing the waters just yet, but boys will be boys. And 1200 pound boys would be mischievous mousers when given the chance. Boys like Bud made their own chances and Ilya would soon enough learn what the brute was capable of. All in good fun, of course. Bud simply couldn't help himself, he was a comical beast by nature. In truth, he was a well mannered and educated equine, but being of the uninhibited testosterone persuasion, Bud was bound to make trouble sooner or later. Sometimes he was just too smart for his own good. Sometimes.

With a soft huff, not particularly pleased at having his plans thwarted by this new individual, Bud played along and followed behind Ilya like a drag-footed geriatric nag. He was a fan of passive aggresion and being an obnoxious pain-in-the-butt was such a swell game to play. It was as they rounded the side of the sales building, Bud picked up the pace slightly and his animated steps turned into a shuffled running walk classic to his breed. Setting his head, he barreled forward with a blatant disregard for the man escorting him, ready to see the world whether he was accompanied or not. But the few strides he forced Ilya to ski slowly began to back off as Bud realized it just wasn't any fun having his face cranked on. And if Bud remembered correctly, when he pulled the same stunt with the angry midget who just handed him over, said midget did a good job in flogging the hell out of his neck and shoulders for it. So, he shaped up and fell back into step with Ilya, casting a wary glance at him should this new man decide to try the same method of discipline for the miniature stunt he'd just pulled. He meant well, honestly.

Allowing Ilya to pick the path now, Bud was mindful and willing, though still alert to his surroundings. He occasionally "talked" to the horse that passed them up, but wasn't as interested in striking up a full-blown conversation as he seemed lost in the throes of equine ADD. Once at the trailer, he waited patiently as it was opened up, content to look around as he cocked a rear foot to rest. He had every intention of walking in as expected, always game for a new adventure, so long as it didn't end in another place like this. He almost wondered if he was going home now, and the thought struck him into a hurried pawing gesture as if demanding Ilya pick up the pace and get his butt loaded.

From inside the trailer, Bud peered through the window in front of him as the whole world whizzed by in a blur. He remained in a parked position, peaceful seeming except for the anxious sweat that had started to dampen his shoulders and froth between his plump thighs. At some point, he'd relieved his bowels and was now tap dancing in it with a prissy 'eww!' factor. Truth be told, Bud was a clean animal of sorts. A show-man's favorite, Bud never rolled after a bath or in the rain. He simply didn't find any pleasure in it and always watched with a peculiar expression when horses in his line of sight seemed to indulge in their messy frivolities. So when the pile gathered at his back feet, he parked them out as far as he could, moving only to counterbalance when the trailer heaved him to and fro over speed bumps and pot holes.

The vehicle rolled to a halt and Bud perked up. Ears fixed in a full and upright position, he didn't bother searching the window before he lifted his head and hollered out from the box he was contained in. Suddenly, the 'eww!' factor was abandoned and he forgot his abhorrence for getting his feet dirty, anxiously pawing and near-skipping in place as he impatiently waited for his release. A new place could not be missed and he wanted out - like, now. Soon the door was opened wide and the same man who had deposited Bud in the trailer was back to make his withdrawal. Bud was all too eager to exit and nearly dragged Ilya out with him when he was turned for the opening. With his feet on solid ground now, Bud threw his head up and repeated his call to whoever would respond. However a few moments of silence told him he was alone at this new venue.

A surge of adrenaline racked the palomino's robust frame and Bud leveled his head out with his withers just as he shook his whole body into a splay-legged stance. With a huff, he began to chew on his tongue with a sloppy sound about it, then fell in step with Ilya towards the barn. Bud was snap-knee'ed with energy, eager to see the sights as they stepped into the building. It smelled clean and new, with no scent of another horse yet to taint it. Ol' Bud would be the first, as it seemed. Prancing about Ilya as the stall door was open, he lapped the stall once he was released and inspected each wall and corner with intense curiosity. He pawed the shavings a moment, in his meager attempt at rearranging for a more horsey-fung-shui motif.

It was as the rear door was pulled open that Bud's head shot up again and he froze, peering out into the lush green paddock that awaited him. His skin twitched in a micro-seizure before he snorted and stood upright, launching himself in an arc as he flew through the door and into the fenced area with crazy fervor. The most ridiculous sounding squeal escaped him as he tore around the enclosure like a bat out of hell, bare feet tearing up the soil beneath them as he struck out in a playful battle with only himself. After he pummeled the air a few times, he stretched into a high action show trot for his last lap around the pen, nostrils lifted up over his eyes as he snorted heavily and finally rolled to a halt. He stood still now, his body heaving as he caught his breath and cleared the cobwebs out. Making a slow, drag-footed U-turn, Bud searched for his new friend and found him at the fence. Bud made his approach to the fence like a slow-footed nag, as if the vibrant display he'd just put on was something he was incapable of performing. Once he found Ilya, he roughly threw his forehead against the man's shoulder in the same manner as when they were first introduced, lipping at his shirt in a studly manner to see if it was true that humans really did taste like chicken.