every inch of me is broken;

[geeked♥]

She had grown much closer to the High Country than she had ever expected to.

She would have liked to say she knew its every nook and cranny, every little stream and every inch of sky where the ribbons or dawn mesh together, break the dull blue sky apart. She would have liked to say she had wandered the endless miles of it, felt its core beneath her feet, felt her heartbeat in her throat. But Echidna had secluded herself to the perimeter of Mt.Kosciusko- she had clung to the protection it offered with a neediness she had never expected to have; she had no desire to leave, and didn't plan to.

She supposed all things must come to an end, however.

She waits for winter with an anxious heart.

Echidna stops, reaches down to toy at the grass with little appetite. A way of filling time, she supposes, in between doing nothing and then doing nothing again. A simple life, Echidna had, and she supposed she enjoyed it that way, without the stress of company and all the like.

Echidna stops, breaks the ground beneath her feet.

She sighs; it is wet, and it is broken.

[Tiggs]

Talgarno was not a frequent visitor to the mountain, but he knew its summer trails well enough, and knew that the grazing would be good and somewhat undisturbed for a small mob of brumbies. He had come up from the Gap, where men were herding their cattle. On the way, he had met a young mare named Bootoolgah who – nervous of the men – had decided to follow him to higher ground.

As of yet, the bay stallion had no official mares, but he would certainly not be opposed if the mottled blue mare wished to keep following him. The fire had ripped away his old herd with its cruel flames, and Talgarno had not been motivated to replace them so soon. The mares had been dear to his heart, and the stallion was getting sentimental as he neared the end of his prime.

Thankfully, he still retained his health and strength, the fact obvious in the shapely muscle of his rump and the clean lines of his legs as he led the way up the rocky swooping paths to the summit. He was a mid-bay in colour, marked by high stockings and a curious white patch over his left shoulder and a sliver of white on his opposite flank. Health radiated from his pelt, and there was no sign of injury or lameness in his stride.

Bootoolgah kept pace admirably, and so Talgarno did not insult her by slowing. Up ahead was the highest point of the High Country, and the stallion had to admit he anticipated the view. He enjoyed the company of another brumby, and hoped that his calm demeanour was helping her quell her previous anxieties. She might make a very enjoyable travelling companion once he got to know her, if indeed she wanted to stay.

Breaking the silhouette of rocky ground ahead was the shape of a dark mare. Surprised to see another mare out alone, the bay lifted his noble head and called to her, a friendly greeting, with no intentions interlaced. He was a confident stallion, and he had a right to be. Only the King himself had beaten him in recent years, and that had been a close battle. Talgarno had no real desire to rule, and so he held no bitterness about it. So long as he could hold his mares, he was content. No stallion had ever taken them from him; it took the fury of the bushfire to do that.

[Corowa]

Bootoolgah followed quietly at behind the big, bay and white stallion. His solid presence comforted her, and the further on they went, the more the threat of man faded from her mind. Man could never catch a brumby here. His horse would be lamed by the sharp rocks, and then what use would it be for chasing brumbies?

The filly had never been any higher up than Rawson’s Pass before, but Talgarno seemed to know where it was that he was going, and so Bootoolgah willingly followed. This was the first time she had been so close to a mature stallion, and yet he did not seem very menacing. She remembered how that old bay mare had warned her to stay clear of stallions and their herds. What had she been so afraid of? Surely, the kind Talgarno meant her no harm.

Bootoolgah struggled to climb the last rocky outcrop. She lacked the strength of a much older horse, and so was still some distance behind Talgarno when the stallion suddenly stopped. Bootoolgah rushed to catch up to him, very much worried now, afraid that the bay stallion had spotted something.

Bootoolgah had not expected to find many brumbies in this rough, broken country. As she got closer to Talgarno and whatever it was that attracted the stallion’s attention, the filly was surprised to see a little round roan mare standing only a few feet away. Her nostrils flared, and Bootoolgah ears flicked nervously back and forth. If this mare had only strayed from the rest of their herd, then wouldn’t her stallion be displeased by Talgarno’s presence?