Grouchy rode hedgehog deep. The woods was silence and hoof beats. The sky was kissed with stars. And on they went. On and on. Further then either had been from home. It felt good. Clean like the cold lake. Free like a sky kissed with stars.
Grouchy mirrored her breath with Hedgehog. She was a good
horse, fast and strong. She slept at night and worked during the day. Except
for tonight. Tonight they crossed lines. Awake late into the night, the
farthest they’d been from home.
Grouchy’s hands curled tight around the mane. She had never
ridden without a saddle. It was easy to ride like this. Why had she not done
this before? All the reasons that came to mind were not her reasons. They were
explanations from other people. Other people who called her “Grouchy” when she
would rather be called anything else.
The path broke open to the lake, which held it’s reflecting
glass to the sky. The night bent down to the water, so that one could not tell
where below ended and above began.
