Falls

Taytim

It was the eerie calm and quiet of the winter that so astoundingly carried sound through the air. The world was silent so that even a sigh was enough to bring the mare out of her thoughts and turn to see the stallion beside the falls. He had moved to look for food beneath snow. She looked around as the winter silence had fallen again and saw there was no one else around. As friendly as ever, she smiled and slowly trotted up to him.


“Good day!

Once within reach, she held out her head slightly, and blew gently at him with her nose, such was the way of horses and she had found had been universal amongst all breeds and backgrounds. “Sadly, there is very little grass here. It has been covered by snow and ice, if there was any growing on the rocks. The meadow is better for a meal.” She had made the Crossing her home for a season and had learned many of its ways. Refusing to say the Peak was her ‘home’ she still considered herself a homeless mare of the Crossing, and was learning to know how to live in it.


Her curiosity about his scars burned in her, but she could guess that the scars she could not see burned him more. So she did not speak of them, instead continued to grin. “My name is Taytim. What might I call you?”