nberdz

They were running out of time. At least, that’s what it felt like to Kira. It felt like she had been wandering for months looking for her parents. And for months she had wandered the valley with no clue as to where Helga or Arik may be. Everything had started to turn into a blur, time seeming to pass her by without the dunskin even noticing it. The sooty mare hadn’t even realized that her winter coat had begun to grow until Arabella had begun to pull out loose hairs on her coat. Kira had been more than grateful for the splash mare’s presence, even if at times she hardly acted like it. Arabella had become the diplomat between the two, patiently speaking and questioning herds or bachelors that they stumbled across. Kira had been too much of an impatient, emotional mess even to form a coherent sentence. She rushed through her words, pressed horses for answers, and quickly grew frustrated with the blameless horses when they couldn’t help. Arabella had taken over any social interactions

The humid air that followed in the four days after the rainstorm quickly turned into a fierce heat. One that was beginning to crawl under the skin of all the adults in the herd. Everyone was starting to grow agitated and annoyed with each other. At least that’s what Adsila liked to think. The young filly kept her head down as she watched Godric and Webster begin fighting once more. Her ears pinned back tightly against her head trying her best to block out the noise. “How could you let them disappear like that?!” The somatic snapped. “Don’t you know how to do anything right?!” Kira and Arabella’s disappearance, on top of Arik and Helga’s, had shaken the herd up. Her uncle had taken it the hardest. With her father gone, Webster was in charge, and it almost seemed as though the herd was beginning to fall apart beneath him. Their sentinel certainly wasn’t helping the situation or the sabino’s guilt. “In case you still haven’t noticed, we aren’t on the farm anymore! You can’t just let a

“...seen… before…?” “Idiot… through the fence and… hit his head” “Is he alive?” “Shh, look! I think he’s waking up!” Arik let out a small groan as his brow furrowed. The overo’s head was pounding like a great weight had been pressed down on him. Any sort of movement he made had the pain amplifying. The muffled voices and the ringing in his ears certainly didn’t help. It only made everything worse. Every sound was seemingly magnified, louder than it was. Slowly, his eyes began to open, squeezing shut tightly once more at the stream of sunlight that blinded his sensitive eyes. He let out a soft groan as he tried to lift his head. The movement sent a jolt of pain straight down his spine, and a slight growl left his mouth. “Oh, easy there!” A soft voice called to him. “Try not to move so fast…!” His blue eyes struggled to focus as they opened once more. He could make out what seemed like an entire herd of horses. It was only when his vision slowly began to clear that the seemingly

The snow fell so heavily that it was hard to make out anything. Thick, white flurries came down in droves, accumulating on the blanket of snow that already covered the ground. The wind blew in howling cries, causing the trees to creak and groan as they rustled back and forth. In the midst of it all was a traveling stallion. His mottled gray and white coat was perfectly disguised in the blizzard. He moved with quick steps, his knees lifting high over the deep drifts of snow. Even the thick winter coat he carried could not conceal his lean frame - evidence of his non-mustang heritage. He traveled alone; his head low against the blowing snow. Virgil blinked, trying to dislodge the snowflakes that grew thick on his eyelashes. He cursed his poor luck. He had been trying to make it down to the Great Lake and up to the dense forests beyond. What a fool he was to think that he would be able to beat the storm that had been brewing for days and was now a veritable onslaught of ice and snow.