breathe. fly. breathe. fly. breathe. fly.
like all the other places she had been, her appearance was somewhat instantaneous. where once she had not existed she now was, with a fleeting black shadow dashing recklessly beside her. in her mind it was all slow motion, as if she could feel every heartbeat pumping her blood, every hair alive, electrified by the wind, her hooves aching with the want to be airborne. after pulling herself from the surf, ecstatic with the prospect of her movement being unhindered from the rolling waves, she couldn’t help but indulge herself. the swim had made her feel trapped, each limb locked in an aggravating dance with the sluggish water, claustrophobia ringing in her ears until finally the tidy black hooves brushed the solid sandy bottom. instead of relishing the end of the tedious exercise by resting sedately she found herself careening down the beach.
one hoof propelling forward followed mere fractions of a second later by another and another and another. running, hurtling through space with ears lying flat against the skull, nostrils gaping in the transaction of air and energy. she is running. flying. she is untouchable. with each extension comes the satisfaction of having thrust oneself one stride further in the direction of ones choosing. somewhere, beneath the velvet-black covering of fur, under the strong sinews of muscle, and in its protective cage of bones is a heart. beating frantically, a hummingbird heart, matching each stride in its own sort of propulsion. it is a well-oiled machine, her body.
it is more than just running. The breathless feeling, the rush, the adrenaline, the feeling that one must break free. the thrill of escape. the wind rushing past her ears, nearly blinding her, has become her first lover, caressing her every curve, running its cool hand over every ink-dark lock of her mane and tail. she greets it passionately every time, reaching always further and further toward it and knowing it will never get closer. she could run for days. and she did.