Cowboys are the people who captured or attempted to catch the Wild horses. I'm a daughter of one of the Cowboys. Yes I'm one of those people who scare the horses. They are meant to run and be scared of me. But they are not. They see me and do not run. I whisper to them and tell them not to run or be scared. I am no harm to any horses. I'm different. I understand the way of the horse. When I saw the stallion for the first time I fell in love. Even though he was brave he didn't trust me. Anyway back to the Cowboys. They were a fan of quarter horses. They made a LOT of money from selling them. Mustangs were pests to them. They were too highly strung and dangerous to work with. To me they were beautiful. My dad told me stories of mustangs my favourite was "The silver Brumbie". It was about a Stallion who ran with the wind and hide from the dangers of the plains of America including the men. I guess I'm living in a story like that, the one I'm telling you. It reminds me of that story. My dad died about a month before I met that foal. I believe his spirit lives on in that young foal. The foal reminds me of him. He was out riding when he was shot at. He died the same night. I never have found out why he was shot at and to be honest I don't want to.
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The Stallion
RandomThe soul of the wild, the stallion. He runs with the wind. His hooves are like thunder to the ground. He doesn't run from fear. The girl is brave and keeps going. When an accident brings them together they become unstoppable.
