auction bid for the gremlin

My auction bid for *sealle 's The Gremlin!

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Registered Name: The Gremlin (JPN)
Nickname: That bastard, DH, FH
Gender: Colt
Age: 2 years
Breed: Thoroughbred
Appearance: Grey (Black base) 1 sock, 3 coronets
Genetics: Ee/aa/Gg
Height: Expected 17hh
Breeder: =decors
Owner/Trainer: *sealle
Temperament: "If Hannibal had been reborn as a horse you found him. Developing a taste for his biped minions he lords over you and watches you like dinner at once. Stay away from his teeth when possible. The only reason he is still an entire is the phenomenal speed he has exhibited in early training. This thing is a missile among paper planes."
History: *sealle purchased him from =decors
Sire x Dam: KUROFUNE (USA) x WHAT KATY DID (USA)

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Good god this took me ages, swear I've got carpal tunnel from all these bids. I've got another two on the way, complete with stories. I enjoyed writing this so much, so fingers crossed I'll get this one! He's a demon!

Please give this a read. It's long, but it's good hahaa!

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Rob and Gina were late. Their journey had been somewhat spontaneous, and they had arrived without a great deal of time to prepare before heading to KhanCoban farm. Barely having much time to shower and change after the long journey, they had headed down. Gina complained her hair was a mess, Rob commentated it always was. She scowled, and hid behind her mane of red, curly hair.

The stable was alive with activity. There were so many other patrons there from racing farms and some just here for the spectacle. Rob felt a lump grow deep in his stomach, the competition was heavy, and the money spent would be high. There’d be high prices to pay for the animals that were being led from stalls and paddocks, congregating in the centre. Spectators were clinging to the fence surrounding the parade area, pressed forward, craning their necks to get as good a glimpse as possible of the horses.

Rob, a veteran of such events, shouldered his way boldly to the front of a fence about three quarters of the way around, with a good clear view of almost the whole ring; plenty of time to check out the animals. They hadn’t properly started yet, but Rob could see the animals being assembled in a courtyard. Gina squeezed in beside him, getting grumbles from people squished to the side. She buried her face in the auction catalogue in avoidance.

There were shouts from a commentator of some kind, and horses began to trickle into the central ring. Rob peered at the far side where they were coming in. It was the heavyweights first. Gina was reading from the catalogue in a near indistinguishable dribble, Rob tried to ignore her. He didn’t like to taint his impressions with the hokum of racing descriptions, “It’s nearly always dolled up”.

It was some of the barns most proven and distinguished animals coming out. A hugely powerful looking crested seal stallion who drew sighs from the crowd. Proven, he was handsome and it was noted there’d be some of his own progeny in the auction tank too, aiding his cause. Many folks scribbled things down in their catalogues, he was popular. The same went for an enchantingly handsome golden chestnut stallion that followed. Gina drooled over him, he was stunning.

Rob grumbled that the older stallions weren’t of any use, they’d been looking for a potential new band stallion, but at their age he found it hard to believe they’d adapt well to the climate of Ballenclieff. Ideally, they were looking for younger.
A couple of red colts were brought out, a bay; two who were by the same dam, and were quite a pair. “Aw, it’s like they have the same face!” Gina said, “Wonder what the dam’s like.”

Rob turned to ask about the 3 year old chestnut, and was trying to read a bit in the catalogue that Gina was roughly explaining, when a deafening squeal broke the ambience of the parade, followed by a chorus of nervous whinnies. The crowd’s eyes turned, and Rob – accustomed to boisterous horses, gave a frown, and at first continued to read the information on the red colt.

A clatter of hooves followed, and a number of colts squirmed in their head collars. Gina pressed herself forward, craning round Rob, as he turned to see what commotion had drawn the crowd’s attention so. His eyes had lingered on the red colt, before suddenly his eyes caught the sight of a militant grey thing causing such bother. He roared, tugging severely, already in a bold trot. His handler struggled, resisting the colt, shouting at him. Rob had a clear view of the incident, and watched with a grin on his lips.

Other handlers came running, while one’s already at horses moved them away, soothing them. The first colt, feeling hassled by all these humans snaked out with his teeth and took at bite right into his handler’s forearm. With a flurry of profanity the man went to swipe at the colt’s head, instead losing his grip on the lead rope. The colt sensed his chance, and with another bellow of irritation dashed right from his handler and towards where Rob was standing.

There was a flurry of shouts and screams from the crowd as people pushed themselves away, freeing themselves from the line of fire. The colt only moved at a slow canter, but the sight of his wild angry eyes was enough to send them running. Gina gave a squeal, trying to tug Rob with her as she moved back and away. He stood his ground.

He watched the colt moved towards him, leaning against the fence, grinning. He gave a powerful laugh, entertained by the spectacle. The colt was so large, muscled and formed almost like he was already an adult, with such a strong stride. Physically, he was little a baby machine. Not yet fully formed, but he was already powerfully grown. Rob stared right at the colt, staring him down as he neared, flying faster towards him. He seemed as if he was readying himself to take the fence. Gina shouted at Rob; the colt would go through him!

And then Rob stood up at the colt neared, moving into his full shape, over six foot tall and almost as wide. His stare bore into the animal, and in the few seconds it would have taken the colt to reach the fence, and fly over it in one of his strides – instead he suddenly stopped, and reared up, flinging his head high. Rob held his stare. The colt’s feet weren’t two metres from Rob’s face. Gina gaped. The colt was so tall, right up on his hind legs.

He brought his hooves down with a great clatter, and paused, blowing out breath through his nose as he glared at Rob. He drew back his lips, gave out a scream that chilled his bones. His face snaked out, lips drawn right into Rob’s face. Rob didn’t move, and the colt’s teeth never made contact. In that instant, almost as if the colt had been defied his head shot back and up, and he peered down at Rob with his beady eyes, stomping a hoof and snorting.

“Haha! I beat you, you prize bastard!” Rob laughed, a deep belly laugh escaped him as he swung out a hand to stick two fingers up at the grumbling colt. The colt responded in a squeal, and turned to cavort away, but instead a flurry of handlers were on him, shouting, giving Rob looks of disdain. The colt resisted, but followed them away.

The crowds soon settled back at the fence, Gina returning to perch at Rob’s side.

“You’re mental.” She said.

“Ha, I’ve seen worse. The colt’s got a lot to prove if he thinks he’s the dog’s bollocks.” Rob laughed, before resting his arms on the fence, shaking his head, “But Gina, that there colt? He’s my horse. I know it.”
He thumped his chest.
“He’s a racer no doubt, and that’ll be a nightmare, but he’s mine.”
Gina grinned nervously, “But he’s a monster!”
Rob’s eyes twinkled, “A bloody bastard.”