Common

She feels the freedom of life abroad rising in her chest as she stretches her eternally long legs and collects herself into the traditional ‘Running Walk” of her father. Her head bobs short, her personal touch of a bit of a waggle side to side simply making the travel more fun, her hind leg catching the earth beside her backstepped foreleg, the feeling of speed acquired despite the limited exertion of energy. She feels like she is flying. She feels like nothing in the world could stop her if she decided to just keep going to where the world ended and she fell right off into space.

High head, chin tucked, “as if you pushed your face and chest into the same tree trunk”, she thinks with a soft laugh - old enough to have amusement over the picture, but her speed increases and her poise improves, Her body is not so light as her father’s, her legs are feathered at first down from the back of her knee and then like little boots starting at the fetlock as the hair lengthens down low. That makes her action even more flashy, the flutter of the feathers there rather fancier than her father could boast.

She ducks a low branch and then glides out at an even more flashy extended trot. Movement, it was refreshing not to be hemmed in by the world of the Inlet. No ice and snow, although it was cold yet. She tosses her head and her white mane masks her dark face for a moment before she slows and realizes she had been headed head on towards someone and nearly made a rude mistake.