Left alone [O]

[Corowa]

“My name means reeds growing in a swamp,” Toowoomba snorted. “It is certainly not as lovely as you might think.”

Yet she was pleased the colt had been so impressed by her name. Toowoomba knew she was certainly no prize, not with her ordinary colouring. She would never capture the attention of stallions or stockmen, coveted and hunted by both. Still, the dun colt had not seemed to mind. He had willingly offered her companionship, and Toowoomba felt only a warm sense of gratitude for it.

She enjoyed the feel of his shoulder where it pressed against hers. The filly had never been so close to another brumby that was not of her blood, and it sent shivers right down her back bone. Toowoomba felt a certain tenderness towards the dun colt. She had thought all yearling colts impetuous and loud. They spent more time fighting amongst themselves, than they did listening to what the older horses told them.

There was something in the dun colt that attracted Toowoomba, and the filly realised quite suddenly, she had no interest in those strange Cascade stallions.

No longer able to bear the crawling feeling that ran under her skin, Toowoomba reached over and playfully nipped the colt’s withers. Her nose wrinkled, and Toowoomba let his scent fill her nostrils, excited by the bitter tang of sweat and of another, stronger smell that belonged only to him. The filly pulled her head back sharply, consumed by a longing so great it stole her breath away.

[Ehetere]

Ghost snorted in amusement, she may be right. Her name might not carry the grandest of meanings, but he supposed it was more thoughtful at least than his own rather obvious one. Unlike the bay filly, Ghost’s colour would stand out almost as much as any creamy’s, his unusual markings combined with his peachy coat would make him a target for stockmen and brumbies alike. Ironic, when the colt would much rather have a simple bay hide so that he might pass through the landscape unnoticed and paid no heed.

The white faced stallion gazed out of their shelter, watching the weather as it continued to ravage the treeline on the next ridge. He was most glad for her company as her warmth pressed against his side, bringing both a sense of security and inner warmth. He decided that he very much liked other brumbies when they were like this - not fighting and neighing and dashing about. He was a peaceful colt, and until now he had not been aware that there were many other horses out there who shared the same ideals.

He saw a vision of himself in future, a steadfast stallion with a modest herd living peacefully amongst the hidden valleys of the Cascades, without man nor marauding males to bother them. The simple life was the one for him, with no dreams of glory or aspirations of greatness. He found happiness in tranquility, and here with Toowoomba he found much peace indeed despite the tumultuous surroundings. Too young to be aware of what the bay was feeling, the colt was simply happy to stand there by her side as the storm blew itself out, looking forward to the dawn where he would be stepping out with a new companion at his side.