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Post by Corowa on Nov 7, 2011 2:10:51 GMT
Willunga’s ears pricked forwards, a great surge of longing rising up from deep inside of her. How she longed to see the beloved mountains of her home once again, the miles of rough, broken country, the wide stretches of scrub and bush!
Here was a stallion who surely wanted her to come with him, and yet Willunga was not completely certain. She did not want to leave the hut, and something told her if she chose to follow the gentle Talgarno, she would never come back here. She would have to live in constant fear of man, to run from his tame horses and shake in terror at the crack of the stockwhip as all brumbies do.
Willunga turned away from the stallion, looking back towards the hut and stockyard. The iron roof creaked; a tin pannikin left hanging from the high wooden fence banging in the wind. Her nostrils vibrated, taking in a hundred familiar scents. She was aware of the dog as it crept up to sit at her side, heard the steady thump of its tail as if it expected its master’s return. “Do you miss it Talgarno?” Willunga asked then, feeling within herself a certainty that had not been there before, “All that has been left behind?”
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Post by Tiggs on Nov 7, 2011 23:46:37 GMT
They fell into silence, and Talgarno watched the pensive mare as she stared out over the men’s abandoned camp. What could she be thinking that made her so troubled? Perhaps it was the uneasiness of this place. Even with the men gone, the bay stallion felt as if there were ghosts here. The wind rattled through the place, and the stallion could not think of a place where he felt more alien.
She turned back to him then with wisdom in her eyes that only a mature mare could possess. Years had passed them both by, but while age slowly took their strength, it left behind an understanding of the world that as colts and fillies they could never have comprehended.
He nickered softly, shaking his head, “Yes; and no. When you know a place so well, it exists inside of you. My home is in my memories. Every track, every stone, every bush and every tree. I only miss my home if I do not think of it too often, when the memories start to fade. So before I sleep, I close my eyes and live those memories. I gallop through them, I visit my favourite places, and those memories become stronger. I’ve not left it all behind; a part of it always travels with me.”
Talgarno reached out his dark nose and rested it against hers, “All you have to do is look inside; you’ll find what you miss.” His ears flickered forward and back as if hearing his own words for the first time. Memories could keep many things alive; could they keep Allambee and Kirrike with him? They were both gone, but maybe he could visit them in his dreams. Maybe he would never truly lose them.
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Post by Corowa on Nov 9, 2011 6:57:53 GMT
“But is that enough?” Willunga asked. “You, who have never been tame, could never know what I have lost.” Talgarno extended his nose to hers, but the mare jerked her head back. Her coat was damp with sweat, and she bowed her neck, moving about restlessly. A sort of quivering went through her, and for a single moment, Willunga was certain she caught the scent of man blowing on the hot, dusty wind.
A sudden gust of wind sent the billy can rolling towards the two brumbies. It bounced off a post with a clatter that made the mare jump, and she realised how badly she was shaking. Willunga knew it would be easy enough to go with this stallion, yet she could not find it in herself to leave this place behind. Her earliest memories were of man. Here was where she felt safe. But would this stallion understand?
The smell was back again, tickling her nostrils, and just then, a man’s voice drifted up. “B-a-aa-njo! B-a-aa-njo!” Willunga felt the dog stiffen at the sound. It had recognised its master’s voice, but was uncertain from which direction the call had come. Willunga froze, hoping that the man was on foot. Talgarno would be no match for a stockman on a fresh horse.
The dog suddenly started to bark, and Willunga lunged at it with teeth bared. “Go now!” she told Talgarno, as the dog tucked its tail between its legs and took off yelping into the bush. “You cannot stay here. I will try and draw him away, but you must go now!”
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Post by Tiggs on Nov 9, 2011 16:21:01 GMT
And that was the ruth of it; Talgarno had never been tame. He did not know the gentle touch of man, neither had he filled his stomach with their delichious food. He only knew of the terror they brough to the High Country. Of the sing of the whip and the bite of their dogs. He only knew the utter fear that her felt when a man was nearby.
The sweet bay mare pulled away, and Talgarno seemed hurt. He was unsure if her nervousness was due to him, or something else. He pulled away, respecting her need for space but feeling cold now that she might reject him. The smell of her sweat was contagious, and he spooked violently at the tin can rattling across the ground.
Talgarno felt his uneasiness double, and the feeling as if this haunted place were watching him increased. The lingering scent of man almost seemed to get stronger, and he could hear their whispers on the wind.
All of a sudden, the presence of a man was all too real, and the stallion did not need more encouragement to run than that. But what of the mare? He couldn’t leave her to the fate of man. He cast an anxious gaze back at her, his whole body quivering with the indescision. How could he let her sacrifice her freedom for him? How could she do it for him?
The departure of the dog went unnoticed as the stallion looked onto this mare who would do such a kindness for him, and he wondered what kindness inside her could bring her to do it. Breathing hard, the stallion knew the man must be here soon, yet he had to understand. Could man really be what this mare had lost? Of all the wonders in the High Country, this mare would choose man over freedom?
Talgarno nickered to her, a soft and quiet noise, but it was full of all the heart he could muster. He could love his mare in an instant for what she was doing, and he would never forget her kindness. Wheeling about, the tired stallion set off into the trees at a fast lope, choosing stamina over speed. What little energy he had left would do him no good if he galloped himself spent. Man might soon catch up to him, but despite the fear chilling his blood, he wondered if it would really be so bad of he was caught...
Shaking his head, the bay stallion ducked his head under low-hanging branches, peeling off from the main paths to take ones he could barely fit through himself. A man on horseback was a formidable enemy, but not if he couldn’t follow you.
Talgarno heard no more of the man that day, and he could only assume that the mare’s plan had worked. The stallion made his resolve to visit the man’s hut again in a few nights time. He could see for himself if Willunga was caught, and learn more of man’s ways from her. He would find her, one way or another. He could not leave their encounter so brief, not when there was clearly more to this mare than a short conversation could reveal.
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