Before the strange and exciting new guest could give his name, the rumble of hurried hoofbeats coming her way distracted Pilar. She looked over her shoulder and sees Kasabian ambling her way, looking somewhat in a hurry, but not necessarily showing any signs of worry. Perhaps he knew that Pilar was the sort of mare who was perfectly capable of handing herself, no matter what kind of stranger came her way. At least, she believed she was capable. In fact, Pilar had been lucky in that all who she had encountered in her journeying across the islands were very amenable. Dia, in the Paradise, was perfectly lovely. Kasabian was pleasant of course. And Magnus, with his adventurous spirit that Pilar just adored. When Kasabian speaks, tossing her mane playfully, she grins back at him.

“Not yet,” she remarks with a hint of mischief. She did plan to bring home a new friend, but this dark stallion was not it. As he called himself Dragon, Pilar turns her attention back toward him and tilts her head to the side, curious. He seemed distracted, even a bit nostalgic and melancholy. Pilar took another step towards him, wondering what was bothering him, when he asked both her and Kasabian if the Ridge was their home.

“It sure is,” Pilar answers enthusiastically. “I haven’t lived here long but I’m enjoying it.” She looks to Kasabian with bright eyes, thinking he’ll be pleased to hear her admit this. “What about you,” she continues. “Where is your home?”


pilar

photo © Sally Mann