Meadow

The quiet was almost deafening as Bacardi opened his lupine eyes, his ebony rimmed ears slowly twisting forward as he looked out at the meadow. The fresh snow sparkled like crystals in the morning sun, not yet broken by tracks. The view brought a smile to his dark lips, his head raising as excitement began to make his heart beat harder. Legs finding the strength to move him from where he had stood all night, tucked among the naked trees, Bacardi slipped free of the shadows and into the open. The soft light reflected off the dusting of snow coating his furry back, but as he moved faster, the light powder drifted off carelessly.


Bacardi broke into a canter, his neck arching as his powerful pillars struck against the ground with the same strength he used to cut through the sea. His lengthening two toned mane rose and fell with each stride, while his long banner waved like a proud flag behind him. The soft powder rose with each strike, billowing around him like the spray of the surf. As he reached the other side of the meadow, he slowed and turned, his golden eyes watching as the crystals glittered through the air while slowly returning to the ground.


To him, it was magical.


Picking up a canter once again, Bacardi chose his way carefully around the meadow. Each change of direction, he seemed to change his leads flawlessly, to create intricate patterns among the snow. A dance to some, while art to others. When the painted stallion finally did stop, he held his head high with his chin raised. His nares flared, drinking in the crisp morning air upon heavy breaths, while the smile continued to play upon his lips. Happiness had always been hard to find for the young stallion, but he had found it here, among the silence and snow.


(This post is for Reba)

two years. mutt. bay tobiano. fourteen three hands. of the peak.

"...speech"