Spirits of the Wild

[dealias]

There is a lone whinney that brakes across the empty sky like a dagger cutting through silk. The crow calls and greets the gray morning. The whinney was from the lambrums of a lone equine-creature. Its smooth charcoal tinted wrapping glinted against the slight sunlight that managed to shine through the clouds that hung like banners in the sky. The animals turned its mighty visage to the sky, the atmosphere was humid, smelled of rain. Yes, rain was on its way. It whipped his black-hued flyer and scuffed at the grass with a flint. The powerful being rose onto its hind shanks and let out a call, a call to all those who thought it challenging, who thought it an intruder, who thought it menacing. A smirk played against its velvet kissers, for maybe it was all of these terrible adjectives strung together. But, of course, you had to be to survive in a place such as this. But, don'tunder estimate the warmness any creature can hold within its soul. It sounded another call, a softer call, at the touched its front pillars back to the geography. This time, it called to one who thought it good,. thought it beautiful, thought it worthy enough to be in their company. Yes, yes it had been alone for so long there had to be someone, anyone out there who could show it the meaning of a herd, a family, the meaning of... Love? Oh, that silly little words. It was such a little word for such a big emotion. It seemed to not do it justice. No, no not all. Suddenly, with an erratic burst of speed, the animal sped off into the morning mist, its well-oiled muscling rippling like little waves under its pelt, it slid to a sudden halt as the promised rain began to fall, spattering its coat with darker flecks. It shook its dial, dreds flying wildly, mingling with the falling rain. Is this what it was meant when that word "wild" was uttered from others' lips?


SPIRITS OF THE WILD

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