Finding Kara

The night I was born was a stormy night indeed; the lightning struck the trees threatening to crush the poor herd of horses huddled in the small cave. There was one thing, however bad that night might be that brightened all horses hearts, I was born.

I was to be called Ace after the wild storm. It was only the day after I was born that I walked about and explored this strange place we live in, I listened to the calls of the birds, finding the tracks of wombats and other bush creatures.  I was born early so the snow was melting making it hard to walk with out slipping.

 my mother warned me with a nip on the hindquarters, silently telling me not to slip, before I slipped and fell on the hard  ground. It was very troubling trying to get up but with much guidance from my mother I managed.

Most of the snow had cleared away by spring and the mountains were bursting to life. I learnt to recognise the tree's, the leaf of a bottle brush, the call of the lyrebird.

I kicked and bucked with all my might, and some times the herd would go on wild gallops through the brush and scrub. We were almost always left behind to imagine its brilliance.

We always played near a creek that had a big tree in the circle it surrounded; it was the most fun to play in and around. I remember once I led the foals on a wild imitation of the herd’s great runs. We’d jump the creek run round the tree and gallop as fast as possible. We galloped until our eyes were stinging the wind and we had long gone past the lightly sweating stage.

My days were very simple back then, unless I got badly hurt. I do recall one time we were fighting when a rather careless foal gave me a blow to the eye. That eye was swollen for most of the week, but if it had not been for my mother I wouldn’t be here today. She taught me to be a fighter, strong, like all brumbies.

With liberty to do what I wanted I could soar through the trees, dodging them as I ran. One time we ran on and when we reached a steep, rocky ledge it was no different.  Until it was to steep for my companion his legs slipped from underneath him and the only thing I was were the whites of his eyes showing so clearly he could have been a ghost, I jumped aside frightened as he fell down, down, down.

That was over now and I was a nicely grown colt of three years old, I owned the world and nobody could own me. I became the leader of my herd like all the stallions before me. Now instead of lagging behind at every bend, flat or hill I was the leader of our wondrous gallops. I was in front. My strength and youth radiated throughout the herd and I loved it. I threw my head in the air and let out a joyful buck. This is were I belong.

I was walking one night my herd was content and I was happy.

I saw my dear old mother, standing and looking up at a star, she must be sad about my father. He was a great chestnut stallion. I wanted to rue the herd half as good as he did.

I walked over to her and nuzzled my nose into her neck, she whickered softly, I was worried about her she missed father dearly. I looked up and suddenly pricked my ears as I smelt a mare from my herd come galloping up neighing, she was worried, her foal had gone missing, she looked around worriedly and than called her daughter Kara.

 Not my poor daughter, she was the only foal as deep a chestnut as me. I was not sure where to find my daughter but I would find Kara whether It took me years!

I I snorted and reared,

With one last spring on my hind quarters, I was off, I raced through the trees. Branches whipping at my eyes and flanks. I let out a joyful neigh and jumped forward faster, faster. I was free.

I was me.