Nokota

Our owner strutted down the aisle of stalls, and past my stall, stopping at the one nearbye with an array of medals hanging loosly on the wooden doors. She stood, glaring intesly through the black metal bars at the horse that awaited her beatings and lashings. Her long blond hair was pulled up into a tight bun, and her newly polished chaps tapped the ground impatiently. Her red, lipstick caked lips were turned into a frown. Her hands lay crossed over her chest.
"Lets not be impatient now, you wouldn't want the consequences, would you?" came the high, strong voice of the women. A whinny was heard from inside the stall. "Thats what I thought." She hastily lifted the knotch on the stall door, and opened it, swiftly walking inside. A quick slap on the rump, and the noises of buckles and straps being attached and pulled, along with the swish of brushes, and metal being scraped into the hoofs of the horse broke the once, peaceful silence of the warm barn. A grunt of disaproval came from the harrased horse, he had submitted to the beast. The knotch was lifted again, and a chesnut gelding walked out with his lead rope in the hands of the predator. His eyes bore into the ground, too humiliated to see the concerned faces of the many other horses in the barn.