Goldwind (Working Title)

Goldwind was furious.

         Scouting the ridge to the north had been his idea, not Blackriver’s. He knew that the last thing the herd needed was another empty promise of food, and he had been through enough seasons to understand that one only need follow the rain to find the food. But did he get any credit for it? Nope.

         Another toss of the silky white mane on the crest of his elegant neck and he snorted into the breeze, letting it carry his breath far away. Blackriver had always been competitive; last mating season, he had tried to take several of Goldwind’s mares. They had been impressed with his confirmation, his toned, black furred body and blaze of white between brilliant blue eyes, his silvery white mane and his size. Goldwind had all of these qualities, he knew; standing at an impressive six and a half feet at the shoulders, he towered over all of the other stallions and mares on the plains. He had a large, muscular body, a solid mass of moving gold fur that rocketed him across the plains to lead his herd. His legs, sturdy trunks made for running and power, ended in white feathered hooves whose size rivaled all of the other creatures on the Windswept Flat, and from what he had herd, beyond into the Desolate Forest. His long, white mane flowed past his shoulder line, and his tail plumed proudly when he strode past the admiring throng of equines around him, a symbol of his health, a flag of his power. But yet, he had one more quality that Blackriver did not have; an innate sense of leadership and responsibility that had kept his herd alive for nearly five years. As he sniffed the air once more and searched the plains with his amber eyes, Goldwind thought back on all of this; he would remind them who had taken care of them. He would remind them by finding them the best food they had ever grazed upon. Resolute and ready to run, he let out a bugle of defiance that reached God himself as he plummeted back to the herd.

         A slender chestnut mare named Sheeva lifted her head as she heard the bugle coming from the top of the hill; Goldwind. She knew the sound well; he used it often to proclaim his victory as he rounded up his harem after each mating season. With fond chocolate eyes, she gazed at their foal, a young colt named Windy, whose golden brown form grazed nearby. A nearby mare, an older bay named Bluegrass, shook her aging head. “There he goes again.” She said, chewing thoughtfully on a few blades of grass. Sheeva continued to eat the few delicious clovers she had found, savoring the honey flavor they conceded to her tongue. “What do you mean?” she asked. Bluegrass swallowed her mouthful and chuckled. “Ready to lead us all on the next great adventure, I’m sure.” Sheeva chewed the last of the delicious nectar from the clovers and smiled. “I’d like to think of an adventure that will mean a more permanent home. I’m nervous that Windy won’t make this trip; it’s been such a short time since the last one.” She said, looking back at the little colt, who continued to graze quietly. Bluegrass shook her head and approached Sheeva with a gentle thudding sound coming from her hooves. “How is Windy?” she asked, gazing at the young flanks heaving as he gorged himself on sweet clovers and the mix of thyme that flavored the ground. Sheeva sighed, looking at a few other mares and their colts as they wandered around. “Not any better, I’m afraid. He still can’t hear anything. And Goldwind still denies him.” Bluegrass shook her head, letting out a hard sigh. “Ridiculous stallion. This could all pass, it may just be a phase.” Sheeva gave a short snort as Goldwind approached them, and Bluegrass attempted to look innocent. “Sheeva, Bluegrass. We’re heading out tonight.” He said simply, his eyes never wavering from Sheeva’s. Sheeva nodded. “Will it be a long trip, Gold? I’m a little nervous about Windy.” Goldwind’s eyes clouded over and he gave a toss of his mane, right front hoof pawing at the ground. “Nonsense. He’s a strong colt, he’ll be fine.” He looked down at the young foal, his nostrils flaring. “Windy, you’ll be fine, won’t you boy?” he asked. Sheeva bared her teeth, and Goldwind backed away a bit. “You know he can’t hear, Gold. If you simply can’t bear that, than simply stay away.” Her tone was threatening and Bluegrass whinnied softly. “It’d be best if you rounded everyone else up, Goldwind. Sheeva and I will be along presently.” Goldwind glared at Sheeva angrily, tossing his thick, silken mane as he turned, storming towards the rest of the herd, which was grazing painstakingly on the barren terrain.

         “You shouldn’t act so disrespectful, Sheeva. Goldwind is still the lead stallion.” Bluegrass’ gaze seemed to dig deep into Sheeva’s soul, but she let out a defiant breath instead of showing her own weakness for the stallion, and ultimately, the old mare’s knowledge. Before she could answer with a retort, the sound of hooves moving over sod interrupted her thoughts, and she looked towards the mountains, only to come face to face with Blackriver. Noticing that he had surprised her, he drew back a bit. “My apologies, Sheeva. I didn’t mean to startle you.” The stallion bowed his head very slightly and then looked to Bluegrass, his blue eyes sparkling. “Bluegrass, how are you these days?” he asked politely. Bluegrass grumbled a bit. “We’re always moving, always running. An old hag like me needs a permanent home.” She said, chewing on a piece of saturated clover. Blackriver nodded a bit, his eyes thoughtful. “Hopefully this next trip will be more fruitful. If only Goldwind would make up his mind. Follow the storms one day, follow the birds the next; he has much muscle but little mind.” Sheeva’s eyes met Blackriver’s at that instant and there was an indignant, loyal blaze in the chocolate orbs. “Goldwind is a fine stallion. If you disagree with his leadership, why don’t you flex whatever muscles you may have, mating season is coming up soon.” She challenged. Blackriver cocked his head to the side, a warm breeze playing his silver mane over his blue eyes momentarily. “That’s not a bad idea, Sheeva. Of course, I wouldn’t expect you to join my harem.” He said, as if he hoped the answer would be the opposite. Sheeva lifted her head, a proud look across her normally soft features. “I’d just as soon break all four of my legs than stand with you.” Bluegrass sucked in an anxious breath as Blackriver straightened up a bit. “You still have visions of Goldwind dancing through that little brain of yours. He won’t even accept his own colt. Tell me; what do you think he’ll do to young Windy, when he gets the urge to mate? Do you think he’ll take it easy on him because he’s deaf?” he began to circle Sheeva then, her flanks shaking with anger. “Or do you think he’ll speak to him with his hooves instead.” Windy caught sight of Blackriver and gave a meek neigh, as if to say hello. His ears perked, but he clearly could not hear what Blackriver was saying. Just as well, thought Bluegrass. Sheeva turned and snapped angrily at Blackriver, and he jumped back a bit. “Keep clear of my son, wolf meat.” She warned angrily, her breath hissing through bright white teeth. Before Blackriver could answer, Bluegrass stepped between them, her graying pelt shaking a bit. "Let's not make this into something violent, young ones. Blackriver, " she said, turning her gaze to the angry black stallion, "it might be best for you to go for now. We will see you when the herd begins to move again." she said gently. Blackriver glared at Sheeva momentarily, then turned softer eyes on Bluegrass. "Right. Then I'll see you...both of you...later." He wheeled off, his large hooves digging up clods of dirt as he ran, his silver tail plumed behind him. Bluegrass turned to Sheeva, a glint in her wise eyes. "You talk a very tough game, my dear. The pickings aren't getting much better around here, so unless you have a secret stallion stashed away somewhere, I'd start being a little more respectful of Goldwind or Blackriver." she suggested. Sheeva rolled her eyes and nuzzled Windy, who had sidled up next to her for a little warmth and comfort. "I don't need either of them. Windy is my little stallion now. I just wish I could tell him that myself." Bluegrass nodded, the bugle of the indignant Goldwind pricking her ears. With little discussion, the threesome ambled off towards the call, anxious to see their now home.