Winter was nearly over, yet there was still a chill in the air. Pilar snorted softly as a brisk gust of wind rushed in from the ocean, tousling her dark mane into knots. She had grown used to this, and rather liked the wild look it gave her. She explored the Ridge diligently, moving at a brisk trot and dipping her nose to the ground whenever something piqued her interest. First it was a crab, toddling along the rocky beach incapable of moving in a straight line. She watched it for a moment before deciding it needed her help. And of course, by ‘help’ she meant a toss into the ocean, which she did emphatically by taking the crab in her teeth and flinging it as far as she could. She snickered to herself as it landed, delighted at the satisfying plop sound it made upon reentering the sea.

As she cavorted along the shoreline, something else caught her eye—hoofprints—fresh ones, moving up the sand and onto the path to the highest point of the Ridge. Pilar wrinkled her nose, wondering who might have come to visit so recently. She knew they weren’t Kasabian’s since he sometimes limped. Whoever went this way was perfectly sound, and a maybe a bit shorter than the Ridge’s leader. Pilar thought maybe it was Dia, come to visit from neighboring Paradise, but that didn’t make sense since she didn’t need to swim over. Whoever was responsible for these tracks was not from Atlantis, and Pilar intended to find out whom they belonged to.

Breaking into an easy canter, she moved swiftly up the path, her ears swiveling atop her head listening for any sign of movement. At last, she saw him. A black stallion, standing in the middle of path looking a bit lost, though not in the sense that he didn’t know where he was going.

“Hey!” She called out to him. “Who are you?”


pilar

photo © Sally Mann