A foal named Scamper

Introduction

*Photos from Pixabay*

I am going to tell you the story of a wild horse living in the rocky mountains of Colorado. I will admit that the details in my head can be a maze and my memory is a bit foggy at my old age, but I will attempt to tell you everything in the most detailed and understandable way possible. 

It all started on the day I was born; that day may have been the most influential of them all, for it was the day that my mother had first warned me to never go near the valley that the humans lived in. That they were terrible creatures who would surely either kill me or kidnap me and use me for their entertainment, like a puppet.

Despite her warnings of abuse and torture, I did not take it too seriously and wanted to make more friends whether they were equine or not. It took a long time before I found out the hard way that my mother's warnings were not as exaggerated as I had originally thought.

Mother would warn me that the humans were dangerous time and time again, but I never saw it that way.

One day, I met this young girl when I was out on a walk, a girl who had such a pure heart and these big, curious eyes. She was gentle and kind, and lightly touched my nose whenever I would approach her, but never did anything that I was not comfortable with. Over time, we became good friends.

Mother forbade me from going back there once she found out about my human friend, especially not after I was nearly run over by one of the roaring monsters on my way home and someone from the herd had seen it and informed her that I was venturing into the human's territory.

Unfortunately, my herd eventually had to migrate due to the humans building too many houses on our land and stealing our home. Sneaking back to try and visit her had become much too dangerous. It had gotten too crowded with other humans, some also tried to approach me but I could tell they definitely did not have the same intentions that she did.

I had come to call the girl Rose in my mind, I had no idea what her name was since I couldn't understand her language but she always smelled of roses and had bright red hair down to her hips that made her easy to spot from a long ways away.

It was not long after we migrated that missing her became a lot to bear, and one night when I had snuck back to see her for what I told myself was the last time, everything took a turn for the worse and I realized right then and there that I should have listened to my mother all along.

A/N: This book is still very new and I will likely come back and edit things multiple times as I read over it and notice changes that can be made. Suggestions in the comments are welcomed, just no hate! Hate will be deleted.