⬩ none ⬩
▻ none (x none) ◅
She had come from the wild places, roaming and following the bison as they moved, utilizing them for protection during frontal attack and helping them stay away from cliffs and ambushes by herding them away. They had been treated as the calves when wolves and bear came to call, herded into the center as a cushion between death and the little ones - after the largest ones fell. It was a wonderful symbiosis.
But she had grown older, smelled enough patties drying atop the soil to know there were too many -- so when the call had gone out about who would be chosen to range away, she had given her name voluntarily. Most of the time it was the young stallions, just like the young bulls would sometimes venture out… but she had taken her leave and found herself crossing a sea to land she’d only seen the hints of afar off. The swim had been difficult, but she had since been here long enough to watch winter finally sprout into spring and then roll on into the warmth of summer. The atmosphere and environs were perfect.
Here she would stay.
But over the counting of weeks and two renewed seasons, she had grown lonely. Lonely enough that when she saw that today had multiple bodies littering the Meadow grazing, she ventured into their midst and basked in the feigned togetherness.
OF THE LOST ISLANDS WILDS
▻ mare - mustang - bay dun roan tobiano overo - 14.3 hh ◅