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Subject: The stallion steps in, coat a deep bay hue...there was something familiar about his stride, about his eyes, still laughing...but he was older, grown, an adult. At the prime of life, or so they'd say. But he didn't feel it. He felt old, alone, abandoned. Scars covered his thick hide, results of battles with wolves, dark and light horses alike, each with their own spiteful reason for attack. He sought one thing...his family. Lifting his head, he whistled loudly.


Author:
Calisto
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Date Posted: 19:52:58 03/30/02 Sat
Author Host/IP: chr168dhcp1210.chrchv01.md.comcast.net/68.33.172.186


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The chestnut mare looks down upon the pass from the highest cliff, not seeing anything. She sighs softly, then hears the whistle, ears pricking lazily, but not responding...she was lonely, who cared anymore who it was? They wouldn't notice her...then a second blast jerks her from half awareness, realizing who it was, she scrambled to her feet, sliding down the rocky embankment, haste making her careless as she rushed for her long missed brother... (NT)Sunburst19:55:19 03/30/02 Sat


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