The early morning sun wasn’t too high yet or baking the world too hot, and she wanted badly to push out of the forest underbrush she was seeking shelter in and graze on the grass she could see in front of her. The smell of other horses was pungent and while that excited her, it also worried her. Instinct told her she needed numbers. The entire two years of her existence told her she needed those deep, important familial bonds.
Fear born of trauma told her she was only setting herself up for more heartache.
But oh, she was so lonely.
Her hazel eyes had stayed quiet on the clearing. She hadn’t seen a horse yet, though her pulse jumped as she warned herself it was only a matter of time. It was their scent on the wind that called her to swim frantically into the ocean, despite the fact she’d never done that before.
At midnight she’d pulled her soaked body on the shore and trudged inland, tucking herself into the quiet until she felt safe and passed out until morning. Now, after sleeping, she had carefully walked through the brush and wound her way around trees with the trepidation of a young doe, snagging her red mane and tail in a branch here or there. She went until she reached the very end of coverage. To move any further than she had now would put her out in the open.
She needed to do it, but she was so very, very scared…
Birds sang cheerfully and she snorted, stomping her right front hoof in irritation at herself. Forcing confidence in place of cowardice, the young red roan mare, spare of markings except for the star on her forehead, moved out into the open. She was instantly terrified, her skin getting warm and damp in her armpits and down her neck under her dark red mane. Her nostrils flared as she sucked in a large breath, almost immediately regretting it. There were so many smells. So many horses. Old scents, fresh ones. She snorted the smells out immediately and flicked her ears, affronted by how overwhelming it had been.
Her slender face lifted from the ground and her ears twitched and swiveled slowly. So many scents calling her… but where was the first horse she would actually face? They seemed nothing more than ghosts at the moment, haunting her while seeming completely intangible.
The longer she stood out here, though, the more likely it was someone would spot her and come toward her.
Her heart pounded a little harder in her chest, lungs tight.
apolline
along with the sunshine
there's gotta be a little rain some time