A Falling Ember

Together and Free

As soon as I wake up the next morning, under the grove of trees, I decide that I want to frolic all day like a foal.
I got home.
The words sound so sweet when I say them.
I was born, and I lived a wild life until I was five years old. Then my herd was captured by humans. My herd and the others escaped, but I was hit by a truck and I broke my leg.
I was driven far away from my home, I escaped again, I was attacked by wolves, and I was saved by old Sam. He let me go, but I was hurt by barbed wire. Two men tried to take me again, but I jumped, no, I flew over the canyon and I escaped again. And then I went home.
Wow.
I shake my mane, and continue the job I started the night before of scratching and biting off the gauze on my belly. I peel off the last strip with my teeth and sigh in relief. The cool morning air feels great on the scratches.
I canter over to the brook and have a drink of cold water. I see minnows darting around in the frigid water. There is no more ice on the brook. Spring is coming.
The herd is coming.
I gallop around the valley, stopping every now and then for a good roll. It feels great to act like a foal again, at least for that day. I stop when the sun is at its highest point in the sky, and have a lunch of dry grass.
Then I cock my head to the side. A faint rumbling is vibrating the ground. I gasp as about thirty horses run straight through the mountain pass, and into the valley. I spot a grey horse with a little black horse at her side.
Mama!
I neigh, the sound echoing across the mountain walls. All of the horses stop.
Then I see a big black horse trot forward.
I neigh again, and he canters, then gallops, then almost flies over the ground, to where I am, standing by the brook.
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The next few hours are pure ecstasy. Horses surround me, my family and friends, nuzzling, hugging, snorting. Mama doesn't say a word. I can see the love and pride in her eyes as we rub muzzles and stretch our necks over each other. Birch squeals and her eyes glisten with tears. She tells me that while I was gone, the herd never gave up hope. Never.
Mystic and River and Dune and Lila are all rearing and whinnying with happiness.
Father just comes over to me and says, "I knew you would come back."
That night, when I am snuggled between Mama and Birch and Patience, I tell the herd my story.
They gasp at all the scary parts, and snort in approval at all of my escapes. Father seems shocked when I tell them about old Sam.
"And...he fixed you up...and let you go?" Father asked.
"Yes."
"He...let you go?"
"Yes."
"Well...I never!" Father stamps his hoof.
"He was a human unlike any other. And he kept horses, for baby humans to ride," I continue.
When I got to the part about the barbed wire, Mama whispered "Oh, my poor Ember."
"It's okay, Mama. So... I lay there on the ground, bleeding out. Then I passed out, and when I woke up, I was in the back of another truck."
I tell them about my flight over the canyon, and the foals squeal in delight. An eagle swoops over the valley and screeches. I whinny back.
Finally, I get to the end of the story. The horses shake their heads in disbelief.
"You are the bravest mare I know," says River, and I duck my head.
"Father, what happened after you left with all of the foals?" I ask suddenly.
"We went through the mountain pass and came out in the hills and woods. There, all of the wild horses were spread out and waiting, so I dropped off the foals with their mothers. They were very thankful," Father says. "And then, I found our herd. We were all scared for you, and your mother was devastated. We had to continue to our winter place though, so we went. We all prayed for you to come back, but you didn't. And so in the end of winter, we went back to our spring place, and there you were."
He notices the scratches on my belly and sides, and he noses them thoughtfully. The herd spreads out under the twinkling stars, but Mama and Patience and Birch stay next to me.
"You'll always be my best friend," Birch nickers. I nuzzle her gently.
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The next morning, I decide that I want to show the herd the joys of the world outside the valley.
I gather everyone, and I lead them through the mountains. We gallop together, over hills and through forests, splashing across rivers and rolling on the sunny banks.
I know that I'll never leave my family again. We will always be together, together and free.