Majesty

9. The Encounter

Mindy and Kyla set up their picnic on a clifftop overlooking a wide, green valley. Kyla stood near the ledge, leaning on her crutches and admiring the view. The recent rainstorms sent budding flowers shooting from the swaying grass. A small glassy pond huddled against the cliff some thirty feet below her. The sun was cheerfully bright but not too hot. Perfect weather. She scanned the field for a sign of horses.

"Where are they?" she asked.

Mindy shut the door of her truck and carried a load of plastic containers and paper bags to the picnic blanket. "I can't guarantee we'll see them here, but this is their most frequent grazing area. We just have to be patient. But check out what I brought! Cookies!" She held the container in the air triumphantly, grinning ear to ear.

Kyla smiled. "Thanks, but I think I'll eat my sandwich first."

After a short prayer from Mindy, they each pulled out a sandwich and began to eat. Kyla faced the valley while she ate, watching closely for horses. It wasn't long before a piebald paint trotted around the corner of a rock formation with a young foal at her side. One by one, more horses followed and gathered by the pond. Foals clumped together and chased each other playfully. The mares took little notice, seemingly at ease with their environment.

At last, towards the back of the herd, the midnight mustang rounded the corner with a toss of his mane and a dignified prance. Kyla caught her breath at the sight of him. Raw power in the flesh. Muscles rippling, coat glistening, eyes wild. He looked several hands larger than most of the other horses, towering above them with prideful grandeur.

"He's huge!" Kyla exclaimed.

Mindy smiled. "Most mustangs are pretty small, rarely taller than fourteen hands. By my estimate, that stallion is at least seventeen hands. Practically a giant! Isn't he magnificent?" Her eyes twinkled delightedly.

Kyla nodded. "He looks awfully strong."

"He has to be." Mindy answered. "If any bachelor stallion could defeat him, he would lose his whole herd. He fights to the death to keep those mares."

"Bachelor stallion?" Kyla asked absently, unable to peel her eyes away as he cantered around the other horses, lifting his head to the sky.

"Dark Night is the only stallion in this herd. When a colt grows old enough to compete for breeding rights, he is seen as a threat and chased away by the lead mare. Do you see that skewbald paint next to Dark Night?"

Kyla watched the brown and white paint pace by the pond, head raised on high alert. She nodded.

"That's the lead mare. She's the real alpha. She guides the herd to grazing areas, disciplines the young, and keeps order among the family. The rest of the herd submits to her authority. Dark Night thinks he's king, but it's the queen who actually reigns. Dark Night's only real role is to fend off bachelor stallions and breed with the mares. That works out great for him because, well, he's a stallion." She huffed in amusement.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"There's a reason you don't find domestic stallions."

Kyla arched her brows. "You don't?"

"The only male horses in captivity that remain stallions are used as steeds at breeding ranches. The rest are gelded. A stallion's hyper-focus on breeding and fighting makes them practically impossible to train without gelding them. Put two stallions out to pasture together? They'll kill each other. Put one with a female? He won't stop chasing her. Mares get moody, but that is much easier to deal with than a hormonal stallion. All they do is eat, sleep, and chase mares." Mindy chuckled, "Sometimes the males of our species aren't much better."