⬩ none ⬩
▻ none (x none) ◅
She sees him only because he bolts, snapping her attention aloft from the sand itself and to his skuttling attempt to flee. He crashes through the oasis and in an instant, the little bullet bird sprang into a chase. His racing form was certainly marvelous, but the young girl was a winddrinker and she would not be left to the dust of his wake.
Her tail rises, a little pinion flag behind her, her dished head throw back to the stars with a shrill whinny - sheer joy expressed so simply and with such abandon that one might call it addictive. She is a red streak behind him, the golden gleam of her bleaching marking her for the far-off watching Aldebaran.
He wouldn’t risk her well-being, but he could not know this was not some playmate she had met on the oasis to charge down and interrupt the child’s fun.
So she chases him, unwinded by the long stretch of racing and little legs helping her fly across the sands with so little kick-up because of her speed and the spindly prick of her tiny hooves. "Where are we running to!?" she shouts, eyes brilliant in the adrenaline rush overtaking her and making her forget she was not at all grown enough to fully overtake him.
OF THE EASTERN DUNES
▻ zero years - arabian mare - chestnut rabicano with birdcatchers - 15.1 hh ◅