Wildfire Summer

Over The Pass

             We had been traveling for three days now with no sign of any other life. The road had forked miles back and instead of continuing in the valley we chose to start up a mountain pass, back into the smokey haze. Zora was still lame but she was moving a lot better. The wrap on her hoof was still hanging on but I am positive she will walk it of in the next few days. Our coats were finally free of the red powder as well now.
    The downside to ascending the mountain was leaving behind our water source. I had hope that if we got high enough in elevation that maybe just maybe there would be some leftover snow. One time camping with my girl on a trail ride in mid-July we came across large snow drifts. Temperatures were well into the 90s by then. It was incredible to see that much snow at that time of year.  My sweet girl had played in it in her shorts as I enjoyed it's fresh coldness against my muzzle.
    I shake the memory away as I hear a nicker from a horse that isn't Zora. I look around for the source as Zora glues herself to my flank. I give a small whinny back and get two more back. We turn off the road into the pines, following the sounds and soon were greeted by a big bay and a smaller dapple grey pinto.  "Well look what we have here. More horses escaped from a fire I presume? Name's Whiskey and this little one is Puddle Jumper." The big bay said, as he greeted Zora and myself.  " Breezie, and my little one is Zora", I say. The bay is a deep mahogany in color almost blending in with his black points in this shade. His build is stockier than mine, strong thick legs, well muscled rump and shoulders, and a thick neck hidden under his shaggy black mane. A mustang if I ever saw one. Next I take in the one called Puddle Jumper. I've never seen her kind before. Her light dapples tell me she is aged, but then why is she so short? Her legs are tiny but full of muscles as if she runs a lot. She had a lengthy neck and a well groomed mane and tail. Good build but again, why was she so short?
      "What are you? You're matured, but short like a weanling... How?" I say before swiftly apologizing. "I'm a pony. A Camarauge pony to be exact. I'm a jumper as well, a bit out of my element out here but lucky for me Whiskey found me", she laughed. A pony! How delightful, I've never heard of such a thing. I like her. Zora seems to like her too, as they are the same height.  "So Whiskey, Mustang yes? Wild or trained?" "Kinda both. I'm a bareback bronc for rodeos and in the off season I get to roam the mountains with the cattle my people own. It was almost time to go back when the fire hit", Whiskey looked distant as if he was lost in memory. "So you know these mountains well then?", I ask unable to stop my curiosity. Not only can he help us survive out here but maybe he would know how to get to people as well.  He nodded in agreement. "So you can take us to people?" My hopes are high now. "Not exactly. The place I know where to go to find people is back in the direction of the fire. I may know of a different place to find people though. It is where PJ and I are headed now, but it is a long journey." I look to Zora before replying, " Z is still healing from an injury, so we must take it slow. If you have to go on without us we understand."  Whiskey laughs, " PJ is slow anyways so it won't be a problem. We'll rest here tonight, there is a snow bank hidden under some trees back here for some water."

          That night my mind wandered yet again to the possibility of never returning to people. The four of us, wild forever. Surely that would never happen right? What if we did get to people again but never got back to our people? Would I become some other little girl's horse? What would happen to Zora? I probably think too much about scenarios but the possibility of never seeing my sweet girl ever again is absolutely horrifying. I went to sleep that night absolutely exhausted from all my overthinking.

           We had another storm during the night, only this one was a much welcome downpour of rain. No thunder, no lightning, and best of all, no new fires to worry us. The vibrant orange, pinks and purples of the sunrise could be seen on the horizon for the first time in the two weeks we had been on the run. There was still smoke in the direction of our home, but it was no longer choking us out. Things were already starting to look promising.

         With Whiskey leading the way, we set off down the other side of the mountain. Zora fell into place next to Puddle Jumper and I took up the rear. It seemed I had been replaced. Zora, being the only foal back home had never been around another horse her size, let alone one that was full grown. I focus my attention back to Whiskey. The sun hitting his coat lit it on fire. In the shade and darkness last night he looked to be a dark mahogany bay, but in the sun he was a striking vibrant red, almost bloody in color. He moved with the grace of a leader. I wonder if he had been a leader of a herd once before when he was wild. There were many scars that sprinkled his coat, the sovereigns from fighting off other stallions. It was quite tragic to think about really. Whether he had achieved a herd or not in the wild he was still rounded up. He was still ripped away from his home and branded and sent away from everything he knew. And now, it was happening again. The fire had ripped him away from his new home.

         Puddle Jumper was next in my inspections. Her dappled grey coat reminded me of big snowflakes sticking to her ash grey pelt. Her name made me laugh. I knew from jumping the fence at home what incredible muscles it takes. Surely she could jump higher than a silly little puddle. I bet she could jump higher than she is tall. Her white tail still held a fancy braid that started at the dock and went down to just past the bone.  Her mane was braided as well, only their were multiples and they were banded into little balls. She must have showed just before the fires, or was getting ready for one when they hit.

        By mid day the temperatures had sky rocketed. It must be the hottest day of the year so far. All that rain from last night would be sure to dry up, and if we got any more lightning another fire would be sure to ignite. True to their word, Whiskey and Puddle Jumper did indeed go slow. Once the sun started to set we stopped for the night. I'm sure if we could keep going that we would travel well into the night, but Zora needed the rest. We had made it to a valley floor at least where there was plenty of water and grasses. 

            Two days later and we had made it to another mountain pass. From the top looking back in the direction we came from all you could see was fire and destruction. Actually, we seemed to be almost surrounded by fires. I wonder when they will be gone... if they will ever be gone before snow hits for the winter. "There is a fire in the way of the direction of the people. If we get down to the valley floor though, there should be a road. We can follow it until we find people willing to help us.", Whiskey states. A road! I look down to the valley below and to my delight there are indeed cars on the road. There are even a few houses! I have renewed hope that we will get back home...someday, with the help of these people. I mean who wouldn't call someone if they seen horses traveling next to a road right?