those who do not learn from history

are doomed to repeat it

I stretched my neck a bit and shook it. With breeding season approaching, I of course had foals on the mind. Conquistador was so sweet - and even if he was nearly fully grown he was small and there was fun to be had with him galloping at my hip. I looked at Sahin and smiled.

“Dun lahke ta live i’ da pas’,” I said. “Bu’ mah daugha is ‘er own woman. Sheh’s bull-‘eaded bu’ reasonable. Usualleh.” I remember all that time I spent wrestling with the young filly. “Sheh’s sum’air on da Ahles… Ah’d lahke ta seeh ‘er. Dunno where ta look doe.” There was a bit of wistfulness in my voice. I missed her. “Sheh and Ah are alahke. Ah’mma more polah’ doe. When Ah knew ‘er, sheh ‘ad na fear o’ speakin’ ‘er mind.”

Satitba had been her own mare. That was all I could hope for in the end. A meeting would be lovely, though. It really would. I would like to know what had happened to her in the year since we parted company. I shook my head and returned Sahin’s grin.

“Ah needa spend more tahme wid Xahna. Ah spen’ more tahme wid Mera an’ Conquisada. Day came ow alrigh’.” I laughed. It was terrible that I didn’t know Xina the only other mare who might be sticking around come the growing up of the foals. I looked at Sahin. “Ah would’n beh aposed ta ‘aven anda foal.”

Opposed? Ha. I wanted one badly! I want my own little fuzz ball. I want to raise it in the security of a home rather than the open road. I was glad Satitba was strong enough to make the swims between Tinuvel and the Crossing when she was young - and that she had been strong enough to survive the swim to the Mainland. Looking back, I should have taken the risk of staying on the Crossing until she’d been older. Oh well, it had all worked out. No need to dwell on the past.

:. mare .:. seven .:. akhal-teke .:. palomino .:. 15.3 hh .:. lives in the paradise .:. mother of .:. unknown x unknown .:. Blushie .: