Post by Corowa on Dec 13, 2011 2:37:31 GMT
Wurrun softly snorted. The night no longer seemed so quiet, and she was surprised to see a mopoke sitting in the crook of a huge snowgum. Its head swivelled around, and the bird regarded the wild horses with wide yellow eyes. The day had been hot, but the night itself was clear and cool. A faint breeze passed through the leaves of the nearby grey gums. It fanned the mare’s sweaty grey hide, and Wurrun ignored a brief flicker of unease.
She was confused by Kalili’s fear. The pale-coloured filly looked even unhappier than before, and Wurrun thought it quite foolish when there was clearly nothing to fear from Talgarno. Kalili must realise that to this stallion and many others, she was an attractive horse. Kooruna was much bolder than her half-sister, and she seemed unworried by the presence of the brown and white stallion. Wurrun watched in silence as the filly spoke. She suddenly wondered where it was that the two fillies had come from if not here.
“I usually run further south,” she told Talgarno when Kooruna had finished. “Where Dead Horse Creek crosses with the Murray River. Lately though, there have been so many men coming down from Tom Groggin way that I thought it better to go back only when they had gone. For too often have they hunted us brumbies there.”
Wurrun knew without any doubt that she was not as handsome as those two fillies, or even that strangely-marked mare Talgarno had brought with him. Still, she was determined to draw his attention somehow. She hoped he would take her with him, but Wurrun dared not ask. The terror of being left alone once more gripped the mare. What if Talgarno wanted only those two fillies with the queer-coloured eyes?
She was confused by Kalili’s fear. The pale-coloured filly looked even unhappier than before, and Wurrun thought it quite foolish when there was clearly nothing to fear from Talgarno. Kalili must realise that to this stallion and many others, she was an attractive horse. Kooruna was much bolder than her half-sister, and she seemed unworried by the presence of the brown and white stallion. Wurrun watched in silence as the filly spoke. She suddenly wondered where it was that the two fillies had come from if not here.
“I usually run further south,” she told Talgarno when Kooruna had finished. “Where Dead Horse Creek crosses with the Murray River. Lately though, there have been so many men coming down from Tom Groggin way that I thought it better to go back only when they had gone. For too often have they hunted us brumbies there.”
Wurrun knew without any doubt that she was not as handsome as those two fillies, or even that strangely-marked mare Talgarno had brought with him. Still, she was determined to draw his attention somehow. She hoped he would take her with him, but Wurrun dared not ask. The terror of being left alone once more gripped the mare. What if Talgarno wanted only those two fillies with the queer-coloured eyes?