Waiting For The Future [Corowa/O]

[Cheyenne]

The white stallion limed his way over a large candlebark tree that lined the beginning of the forest. Every step ached painfully as he hobbled over then slumped his weight onto the rough bark and sighed. A darkness loomed over him as the sun slowly dissappeared behind the mountains and the moon creeped upwards, taking his place in the sky. It's beam made the settled snow glow on the ground and glitter like the stars.

He sighed again, stretching his neck around to lick the large wound that had embedded itself into his glittering pelt. It stang as his smooth tounhe ran over it, cleaning the blood that had stained his coat. Rio carefully threw himself down onto the floor, sitting dog-style with his legs tucked neatly underneath him.

Memories of the fight he had just lost lingered in front of him like a ghost: the flailing of hooves, the challenging scream from the silver stallion, the young mare that stood not far away from them, witnessing the battle.

He had learnt his lesson. Lunging himself at his opponent and wasting his energy on pointless screaming was definetely not the way to do it. He remembered the careful moves that wasted little to no energy and the effective tactics. He growled quietly under his breath. Not because he was a bad tempered horse - no, he was usually quite a loving and polite stallion - but the way he was defeated easily. True, he was younger and still learning, but Rio would have loved the company of another mare and he saw the filly as a good chance to fullfill this want or need for company.

He shook his head, driving the terrible pictures away from his mind. That was the past and now it was time for the future. Sitting here was going to get him nowhere but for now he needed to heal.

[Corowa]

Noorinbee stood with head held high and ears pointed firmly forwards. The young mare grazed down in amongst the cover of the timber, but she was noticeably nervous, and though every now and then, the mare dropped her head to crop at the snowgrass, she mostly stood and watched.

In the grey light of the night, Noorinbee was outlined only by the whippy scrub and rough eucalypts. Even south of the high plains, the snow lay piled in high drifts, and poor grazing had pushed many of the mobs of brumbies out of their usual winter grazing spots.

It was while Noorinbee was grazing that something moved down in the line of thick timber. The mare reacted immediately. She stood completely still, nostrils wide and ears sharply pricked. At the same instant, all signs of movement stopped, and even though she continued to stare intently through the trees, nothing more happened.

Noorinbee found herself filled with sudden urgency, and the mare started to move on down through the large grey box gums and low saplings. She was covered in lather, by the time she reached the bottom of the slope, and she stopped in her tracks, baulking where the sheltering fringe of bush thinned.

Here the tall and whippy eucalypts turned to wide snowgrass plains and rough timbered ridges. But there, beneath the scrubby branches of a particularly big candlebark, was a huddled heap, motionless but for the very slow rise and fall of its flank.

Noorinbee stood with one forefoot raised, ready to turn and bolt in the opposite direction. The mare felt the sweat break out behind her ears, but she had to know what it was and so she remained, well-hidden in amongst the sapling scrub, and near invisible in the night.

The mare could see this was obviously no escaped stock horse. There was no brand on its shoulder, and no sign of whip marks or hobbles. Even so, Noorinbee still stayed a little distance away, in the sheltering band of eucalypts, but from here, the young stallion looked to be in a very bad condition.

The mare’s ears twitched when from somewhere nearby, a bittern, perhaps from down near one of those narrow bush creeks, gave a harsh, throbbing call. Having been feeling unsettled enough before, Noorinbee now plunged forwards in sudden terror.

[Cheyenne]

A bittern called out loudly from somewhere behind him in the depth of the forest and almost seconds after, a young grey mare had bolted out from the cover of the trees, wild with fear. Caught by supprise, Rio suddenly jumped up from his feet, hitting his already sore head on a thick, low branch. "Ouch," he gasped loudly as a sharp pain shot down his back and he fell back down of the cold, white ground.

He lay there for a few second before getting back up and turning around to face the stranger who must have been watching him. Step by painful step he managed to limp in her direction. She was a pretty horse, very lightly built yet strong at the same time. Her lightly dappled coat seemed to shimmer with the stars that dotted the sky above her.

The white stallion looked around wearily as though thinking another stallion would pop up out of nowhere and challenge him again. He couldn't fight again, he was too tired and too much in pain. Rio wondered why she was alone. He waited until she settled down before approaching her as he was scared she might bolt away. The stallion stood, watching her, thinking.

[Corowa]

In her blind panic, the mare had not noticed that there were no more of the big, sheltering gums, and instead of thick timber, the bush thinned to only a few scrubby saplings. Just then, Noorinbee propped, and swung nimbly about, looked worriedly towards that wide grassy flat behind her.

The grey stallion still stood there, and Noorinbee watched him for quite a long while, feeling sure something was going to happen. Her head upflung, the mare’s ears twitched, and her nostrils quivered. Presently, the grey stallion started to hop towards her, and Noorinbee could see he was very lame.

The stallion looked only young, and Noorinbee wondered if it was one of the bigger and older stallions that had beaten him so thoroughly. There were plenty of brumby mobs here now, most having been driven off the high plains to places where the grazing was only a little better. It would not surprise her if fights over grazing were much more violent than usual.

Even she had been chased off by a fierce-looking brown stallion, his thin mares picking at what snowgrass remained, foals struggling to find enough strength to stand and nurse. It made her tremble to think of the long, hard winter ahead.

Perhaps this young grey stallion might not live to see it through, for until his shoulder mended he would find it difficult to go on through the high drifts of snow. He looked hollow-flanked and exhausted, and Noorinbee took one step towards him, and then another. She longed deeply to comfort him, for she could see he was no danger at present.

“You should know not to fight in the winter,” Noorinbee said suddenly, feeling some sort of responsibility for him. “Soon enough the snow will be too deep for you to go far, and then, even the yearling colts will run you off the good grazing spots.”

[Cheyenne]

The mare had quickly calmed down and Rio smiled when he saw that she was not afraid of him. "You should know not to fight in the winter. Soon enough the snow will be too deep for you to go far, and then, even the yearling colts will run you off the good grazing spots.” she said to him in a voice that seemed to linger in the air like magic. It was beautiful. "You could of tried telling me that a few hours ago," the stallion chuckled, rolling his soft, brown eyes.

A cold breeze ruffled their manes and sent a shiver down Rio's spine. He could feel the temperature dropping quickly with the sun. "I'm Rio by the way, and I think you're right, maybe fighting in the middle of winter isn't the best thing to do. I'll be struggling this winter but I'm sure I'll survive. Tough as nails me," he said with another quick flash of a grin. He had taken an immediate liking to this mare. It wasn't the fact that she was so beautiful (even though she definetly was), it was more the way he talked to her, sounding a bit like his Mother. He smiled to himself at this thought.

[Corowa]

The bush was quiet, except for the sound of the wind as stirred in the snowgum leaves. In the blackness of the night Noorinbee could hardly see the grey stallion, no more than a pale streak in the darkness.

Noorinbee had forgotten that first shock of fear, and the mare could not stop herself from advancing slowly towards the stallion. In the pale moonlight, which streamed through the snowgum leaves, Noorinbee looked truly splendid. Her head held high, the mare walked with that proud, swinging carriage.

The mare’s ears flickered, and she found herself suddenly breathless with excitement. She walked on over the snowgrass, pausing only for a moment, to look and to listen. Finally, she reached the stallion’s side, and Noorinbee trembled in every limb, barely able to contain the restless throbbing of her blood.

If only this stallion had not been so very lame, they might have raced each other through the timber, up one side of that steep, rough ridge. “You’d better live through it,” Noorinbee said with a snort. “Since you’ll need to have all your strength and swiftness if you’re to challenge that stallion once more.”

Just then, there was a low rumble of thunder, and the surrounding bush was lit up by a momentary flash of lightning. The hushed stillness of the bush made her hide prickle, and the mare glanced uneasily up at the thick, dark clouds.

Suddenly it started to rain. In the beating rain, Noorinbee stood, feeling every part of her filled with the need to find shelter before the storm worsened. The stallion was protected by the big candlebark, but it swayed wildly in the wind and soon enough, he would be too cold and stiff to move on.

Noorinbee felt a sudden sense of urgency, and she started to nose around the stallion’s ears and head. She tossed her head, and then with a snort, gave him a hard nudge. “Come on, get up,” she told him. “It feels like snow on the wind, and I have no longing to find you buried with the snowgrass!”

[Cheyenne]

"No, I won't be challenging that stallion again. I promised that I would leave him alone and I'm really not one to break promises," Rio said as she mentioned about the stallion. He remember what he had said when he had laid gasping for breath on the ground.

As the rain started to thud lightly on the ground and against his pelt, Rio immediately felt the urge to find shelter. Water trickled down his white coat and the blood began to run with it, staining the ground. He ignored the aching pain in his shoulder as the mare gave him a desperate nudge to get up. The stallion stiffly tried to get his back legs to stand up with the rest of his body.

They had to find shelter before the snow began to settle or his ingury could get worse. Rio didn't even know where he was until he started to take in the scenery and realised he must be at the place where Thowra's father, Yarraman lay. He didn't know the place that well and wondered whether the mare knew of anywhere they could hide from the storm.

"Ok, I'm ready," he said, walking a few testing steps to see if they would respond. "Do you know anywhere we could shelter while the snow passes. I know this country, but not that well." The rain was cold as it got heavier and the thudding against the floor got louder.

[Corowa]

The wind roared through the high tops of the snowgums, and the sound filled Noorinbee with a terrible feeling of fear. There was danger in those furious, tearing winds, and it seemed everywhere the bush spoke of mourning and loss. The mare stirred nervously, for something told her there would be more bad weather to follow.

The rain had not eased, and instead it came down harder and faster. For surely soon, it would turn to sleet to sting wet hides, and bring with it the first of the winter snow. From somewhere nearby, there was the great cracking of branches and an enormous thud, as a mighty snowgum toppled to the ground.

The night surrounded them, and Noorinbee was filled with a sudden need to hurry, to get down out of those buffeting, blasting winds. Her blood throbbed, and she moved about restlessly. The stallion stood uncomfortably on three legs, and the mare knew it would be a long time before his shoulder mended.

The two brumbies were dripping wet, and Noorinbee felt a cold shiver of dread run through her. She did not wonder if perhaps the stallion would not be strong enough to follow, or that perhaps in the blackness of the night, they would not find their way and would be instead lost forever to the moaning winds of the storm.

Her body sheltered him from the worst of the wind, and the mare turned and almost shyly touched her nose to his. “There is an old stockman’s track not much further from here,” she told him. “It drops down into a gully filled with snowgums and thick bush. It should be sheltered enough, for I know the stockmen use it when the nights are long and bitterly cold.”

[Cheyenne]

Rio sensed danger on the wind that pushed their manes into their eyes. He tossed his fine head madly in a pathetic attempt to try and see. The weather seemed to be getting worse every second they just stood there. They had to find shelter.

A large crack that was soon followed by a dull but heavy thud made the stallion jump. A sharp pain shot through his shoulder again. How was he suppose to get away fast enough. He decided that he would just have to ignore it to get to safety.

Suddenly realising Noorinbee was standing next to him, Rio turned his head slowly to gaze at her with an expression that said what the hell do we do now? She seemed to be reading his mind as she told him of an old stockman's track. "Perfect," Rio thought, adjusting his position to stand next to her so she could take him there.

"Ok," Rio said, giving a quick nod in her direction. "I suppose we could wait there for the storm to pass there. Anywhere is better than staying here." He waited for Noorinbee to start walking before he followed.

[Corowa]

“Come then,” Noorinbee said softly, and the mare vanished into the bush. It was difficult to find the track in the early darkness, but she dropped her nose to the ground and followed the old smell of cattle until finally she reached a high ledge, which plunged suddenly down to a wide band of snowgums far below.

The mare stood, trembling in every limb, terror visible in every line of her body. She again she felt the rub of the saddle and packs, the harshness of the stockman upon her back, heard once more the loud crack of the stockwhip. Noorinbee took one step back, and then, blowing nervously through her nostrils, started down the half-remembered track.

Noorinbee threaded her way through the tall eucalypts. The pale grey mare was only half-seen through the rough trunks of the great alpine ash, outlined once or two by the sheet lighting. Occasionally, she looked back to see if the stallion still followed. He was only a pale streak on this wild, black night, and he moved so soundlessly he seemed no more than a lissom ghost.

On and on the two brumbies went. All throughout the bush, there was a hushed stillness, so it seemed as if they were the only ones living. The cold, beating rain pelted down and for a moment, sheet lightning lit up everything so even the big snowgums at the foot of the spur showed clearly.

The mare picked her way carefully over the rough, shaly ground. The sound of the wind had dropped, but it was a very long while before the two brumbies were finally in amongst the shelter of the snowgums. Head up and nostrils quivering, Noorinbee stood and listened, suddenly sure that snow was falling higher up the great spur. She wondered then, if the stallion beside her could feel it too.

“I had forgotten how rough the track had become,” she told him shyly. “I hope it did not strain you too badly.” Noorinbee found herself filled with a terrible sense of longing. Unable to contain herself any longer, the mare touched her nose gently to each of those terrible gashes, and then started to nibble at his shoulder, loosening some of the stiffness from his muscles.