Halloween (part 4)

''Author's note = This is the last part of the Halloween online series in JFRL Wiki. You may find this story a little resemblance to Spirit Riding free, and I just want to inform you that this story was never meant to be published, because it is technically like copying. I have wrote this story inspired by Spirit : Riding Free, the story based in a location of Australia, and it is simply for the enjoyment of the audience. It is not to be taken seriously, and is just little clips that show resemblance to Spirit : Riding free. This story is not a true story and any resemblance to real incidents is coincidental. Thank you! Hope you enjoy the last of the series :)''

The man strapped the throatlash, the soft bit and the Browband together, and clipped the reins on a little hole at the side of the bit. The hame around Halloween's neck hurt, but he knew it was for his best. He looked down, as his owner shot, the sound of the bow and arrow rubbing each other together, and the arrow went flying across, and very slowly killed him, a painful death...

*

Halloween was a hunter's horse. He was a mixed horse, a feral horse, mixed with Saddlebred and Muwari breeds. The feral, and wild instinct was in his veins. He was a Brumby. People treated the word 'feral' as dirt. Feral horses, mean, viscous, angry, hotblooded breeds. But now he was with is owner, who didn't treat him like dirt. They shot Hunters, who killed animals and nature. His owner was a hunter of the hunters. An African man of 19, Halloween's owner was young. He owned a stock of what was supposed to be Halloween's flock, but they weren't. They were just horses, most of them plain feral. They weren't like him. They let other people put on saddles, reins, bridles. It was all too pitiful. Halloween was different. He was free-roaming, except sometimes he just had to let his owner ride him. The most annoying thing was him never using the reins. He always took a big chunk of mane and held onto that, making Halloween have uncomfortable cramps. At this stage, Halloween would try to buck him off, but he stood, perfectly balanced, on his back. Even through the hurt, Halloween and the man had a connection, Halloween would never leave him. He was the kindest man he had met.

Today, the man had shot a hunter trying to shoot a herd of deer. How dare they! What did the poor deer ever do to him! That was what Halloween liked about the man. He truly cared. The man loved Halloween, he was a very powerful horse with a big heart, and an even bigger temper! He was easily annoyed, and irritable, but the man was very gentle with him, and would tolerate every behavior he would put on. They were the perfect pair. The man had tamed plenty of Brumbies, who were very hard to be broken, and had that feral instinct to buck and kick. One day, the man, as usual, was dealing with Halloween kicking, trying to shake off the bridle. They heard a shooting sound. Halloween, sensibly, stopped his hard manner, and let the man put on the saddle. He climbed on Halloween, and Halloween kicked the door open, and reached the place. The man, still on the Halloween's back, shot the Hunter with his Westgirth bow and arrow he pulled out from near Halloween's left shin, and it hit him hard on the waist. He fell down, as the rabbits he was trying to shoot with his gun fled, and then he took up the gun to try and shoot Halloween's owner, but because he couldn't aim straight cause of the arrow's pain, he shot poor Halloween's poll, bullet going smoothly above his forehead.The man was slowly left unconscious after that, and then Halloween dropped down dead. He knew his owner would keep on shooting down hunters, and he still had that happiness in his heart that he had saved a whole pack of rabbits.