I navigate through the long grass and reaching branches, leading Vita Nova deeper into my territory.

Knowing that this is the scenario most bucks envision when forbidding their mares from venturing unescorted, I begin to wonder if the stallion that owns Nova knows where she is or who she is putting her trust into. She described him as ‘not giving a damn’ and considering I have one of his mares currently following me into the Lagoon, I lack sufficient evidence to argue otherwise. It is also quite possible that Vita-Nova simply left the dessert without permission, which could have serious implications for me if her master comes to find her in the bachelor land.

”What’s her name?” I call over my shoulder as we near the heart of my home, my large steps slowing as we approach the cool waters of the Lagoon. I squint against the bright midday sun and scan the immediate area, both my ears and eyes darting back and forth, but nothing grabbing my attention. Lifting my proud head high above my withers I begin to draw the familiar air in through my nose, inverting my top lip and pushing the numerous scents arounds us deep into my senses. I can practically taste the life that is here in the Lagoon, but the scent of Nova’s dam is no longer among them.

”Keep an eye out” I suggest before veering left and stepping into a trot, moving parallel with the water’s edge. We entered the Lagoon with the Commons at our backs, and there is still a lot of scrub that lies between us and the shoreline. Between the two of us, we should be able to track down her mother and have them on their way home before the sun touches the horizon.

FRIESIAN MUTT | SIXTEEN TWO HANDS | TWELVE YEARS