Galloping Hearts

Chapter 7: The Watchful Eyes of the Wild Horse

The wild chestnut horse had lived a life of freedom for as long as he could remember. His days were spent wandering through the open fields, his strong legs carrying him wherever he pleased. There were no reins to guide him, no saddle to bind him. He was master of his own path, and he cherished that freedom. But lately, something had changed.

For months now, the horse had been watching from the shadows, observing the girl who came to the lake. He had been careful not to reveal himself, keeping a safe distance as he studied her from the shelter of the trees. There was something different about her, something that intrigued him. She didn't move with the same arrogance or noise as other humans. She was quieter, gentler, her movements careful and deliberate. She seemed to respect the land as much as he did.

But the horse was cautious. His life had taught him to be wary of humans, who could be unpredictable. They were often loud and controlling, seeking to dominate what they did not fully understand. He had seen other horses taken by them, broken and bridled, their wild spirits tamed. It was not a fate he wanted for himself.

So he watched.

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The Quiet Observer

For weeks-no, months-he had been coming to the lake on Sundays, following her with silent steps. At first, his curiosity had been mild. She was just another human, after all, and his encounters with her kind had always ended in disappointment. But the more he watched, the more he noticed about her. She came alone, every time. No others followed her. She didn't bring any ropes or reins, no tools of capture. Instead, she simply sat by the water's edge, looking out across the lake as though waiting for something-or someone.

He recognized that patience in her, a quality he hadn't often seen in humans. The girl didn't try to force anything; she let the world be as it was. Sometimes, she would sit for hours, just watching the water or the trees, her face calm but thoughtful. And while she didn't know it, the horse watched her just as closely. Every Sunday, he would hide just within the cover of the woods, his chestnut coat blending with the earth and the bark, his eyes tracking her every movement.

Some days, she seemed hopeful, her bright eyes scanning the landscape as if expecting him to emerge. Other days, disappointment clouded her face when she didn't see him. The horse could sense her yearning, her curiosity, and slowly, ever so slowly, he began to feel a tug at his own heart.

But he was still uncertain. Could he trust her? Was it safe to approach?

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A Growing Curiosity

The wild horse's hesitation was not just out of caution-it was also out of fear. He had never been close to a human by choice. The thought of stepping out of his sanctuary in the trees and making himself known filled him with an unfamiliar anxiety. His instincts told him to stay hidden, to keep his distance. But something stronger, something deeper, urged him forward.

There were times when he found himself edging closer to her, his hooves crunching softly in the underbrush as he watched her from just beyond the clearing. He would stand perfectly still, his ears twitching at the slightest sound, ready to flee at any sign of danger. But the girl never noticed him. She was always too absorbed in her thoughts or in the peaceful serenity of the lake to catch sight of the large, silent presence watching her from the shadows.

Still, his caution remained. He needed more time. He needed to understand her before he could trust her. And so, the horse decided to wait. For two, maybe three more months, he would continue to observe her from a distance, gauging her intentions and studying her actions. If she remained as patient and gentle as she had been so far, perhaps-just perhaps-he would consider revealing himself.

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Emily's Growing Disappointment

While the wild horse observed her, Emily's visits to the lake had become a routine of hope and disappointment. She had continued to improve her riding, growing stronger and more confident with Storm, and every afternoon, she and her father would spend time together in the pasture. Storm had become her trusted partner, and Emily was proud of how much progress she had made. She could now ride him at a steady trot, her balance and control improving with each day. Sometimes, when she rode through the fields, she imagined what it would be like to gallop across the open land like the wild horse, the wind in her hair and no boundaries to hold her back.

But despite her love for Storm, there was a part of her heart that longed for something more. The wild horse had left an imprint on her mind, a restless curiosity that kept pulling her back to the lake week after week. Every Sunday, she would wake early, finish her chores, and slip away to the lake, her heart filled with the same hope that had brought her there the week before.

Each time, she arrived with excitement buzzing in her chest, her eyes scanning the far edge of the clearing for that flash of chestnut she remembered so well. But the horse never appeared. The lake was always quiet, serene, and empty, as if the wild horse had never been there at all.

She tried to tell herself that it was foolish to expect the horse to show up. After all, it was a wild creature, and wild creatures didn't follow anyone's schedule. But still, the disappointment gnawed at her each time she left the lake without seeing him. She would walk back to the farm, her steps slower than when she had arrived, her heart heavy with the letdown.

Her family noticed, of course. Her mother would ask her how her walks had gone, and Emily would smile and shrug, not wanting to burden them with her longing for something they wouldn't understand. Her father, who had always been able to read her better than anyone, would simply give her a knowing look and tell her that patience was a virtue, even when it was hard to hold onto.

And so Emily waited.

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The Wild Horse's Hesitant Decision

The wild horse had never been one to trust easily. But as the months went by, something in the girl's persistence softened his wariness. She didn't give up. She returned to the lake every week, even though he remained hidden. She didn't search for him with ropes or try to track him down like other humans might. Instead, she simply waited, as if she knew that trust took time to build.

As the days turned into weeks, the horse found himself moving closer and closer to her each Sunday, testing the boundaries of his fear. He would come to the edge of the trees, his dark eyes focused on her as she sat by the lake, unaware of his presence. Sometimes, he felt a strange urge to step out from the cover of the woods, to let her see him in the open sunlight. But each time, the familiar knot of fear would tighten in his chest, and he would hold back.

Still, the wild horse knew that soon he would have to make a decision. The girl had proven herself to be different from the others-gentler, kinder, patient in a way that soothed his guarded nature. But trust wasn't something he could give lightly. He needed time to be sure. He needed to watch her a little longer, to see if her intentions remained as pure as they seemed.

In a few more months, maybe, just maybe, he would find the courage to step out of the shadows and approach her.

But for now, he remained hidden, watching, waiting, and wondering if the girl felt the same pull toward him as he did toward her.