Ghost Horse-Spirit Stallion of the Cimarron

Chapter 10-Saviour

The sun shone brightly as Eagle paced the water's edge, snorting. He was waiting for Midday, of which the Indians would be most hot and tired. He, however, was at his strongest point, glancing up to the sky before setting off, his shadowy hooves thundering across the dry, cracked Earth. The young stallion let out a loud shriek, laying down on the ground, his eyes barely open. He whinnied again and snapped his teeth around his own leg, causing it instantly to bleed. Soon, the humans began to notice and yelled out, beginning to form a crowd. It seemed that the whole Tribe was there; apart from the two guards of Desert's pen. She was cooped up in the shade with a tipped over bucket of water. The pretty young mare was tossing her head and whinnying, throwing her legs about. She had taken the fiery spirit from her father, and had heard his legendary tales many times. Only now would they come in useful. Oh, if only she had listened to them more...

Eagle pretending to be dead, was trying hard not to flinch at the grasping human hands struggling to drag him across the ground. Surely the guards would come to help? And they did, eventually, dropping their spears and hauling part of Eagle's leg. Desert glanced up and witnessed the scene. Her heart stopped. Eagle? "No, no, no, you can't be dead, please, no..." Desert cried as the colt was dragged past her. The old woman looked up and placed her hand on one of the men's shoulders. "With the mare. She seems to care for him."

Desert sniffed along his body, snorting gently. She lay beside him and rested her ncheek on his back, squeezing her eyes shut. "Eagle, please, wake up, I can't survive in this place. I'm sorry I was so stubborn, I really am, just please, please, wake up..."

"Shush now, I'm alive. We're getting you out of here, just keep acting like I'm dead, OK?" Eagle hissed, his eyes still closed. Desert's eyes widened, but she kept mourning, standing slowly, lifting her head and letting out a long whinny, before dropping her nose to the ground and letting the dark forelock fall into her eyes. The old woman bowed her head, causing the rest of the tribe to follow her action. A few moments of silence passed. Then, out of nowhere, Eagle leapt up and crashed through the gate, snatching Desert's rope as he passed. The strong materially snapped in the grasp of his teeth. The mare was free, but for how long? The Indian knew she was out there, and they had never see such beauty of a wild horse, other than Ghost Horse.

"The ropes! The gates! Hurry, before they get away!" One of the men yelled. He had the most markings on him, and looked the biggest and strongest of them all. This was Bearclaw. He was the Elder's son, with the Elder being the wise old woman with a strange stick. Despite having a peaceful, kind mother, the leader of the Tribe after her husband died, Bearclaw was vicious, and wanted no other than to have the best horses of the land, and wanted the tribe to himself. His brother, however, Little Creek, was thoughtful and smart, always the 'man with a plan'. Except the people of the tribe believed his quirky ideas were nonstop rubbish, and never listened. He believed not in riding the horses until you owned them, lashing out at them with a whip, but in the loyalty of your animal, giving whatever it took to get them to trust you. Even his own mother, The Elder, was doubtful of him. Bearclaw was strong and hardheaded, never listened to anyone, violent, always resulted in war, not only that, but all the young women in the tribe wanted him as their own. But anyway, back to the story.

Desert was surprised but shot forward with him, feeling the burning sensation around her neck of the rope being yanked. She powered past the people, catching up with Eagle quickly. The gates were closing, no matter how small they were, if closed, the two young animals were doomed to a life in captivity. And they weren't about to let that happen. The gap was narrowing, and as the colt and filly grew closer, it looked as if they weren't going to make it. But, despite all odds, they got out just as the wood shut firmly on their tails.

"I cannot thank you enough! You just saved me from living with humans! And I saw what they were doing, sitting on horseback and whipping them with this... This... Long stick, I guess. It was awful! Thank you." The paint filly cried out as they continued galloping across the dusty ground, heading towards Desert's homeland.

"Were you speaking the truth back there, when I was pretending to be dead?" Eagle asked after a moment of silence. They slowed so they could hear each other, safely away from the camp.

"Well... Some of it was, yeah. What would you have said if I was pretending to be dead?" Desert replied, embarrassed.

"I would of said get up I'm not that stupid!" Eagle shot back, humor underlaying his statement. "No, really, I probably would of said the same, more or less. Because no matter how annoying you can be, I like you as a walking buddy. I wouldn't have anyone else." The white colt nickered fondly, snorting. "You?"

"I guess I might have taken Jig... Nah, I'm kidding. No one else." She laughed at his expression before he shouldered her away with a fake-annoyed grunt.

"Who on Earth is Jig?" Eagle asked, confused.

"I've never told you about them! Well there's Jig, she's really called Jigsaw, and is a paint, a bit like me, but not the same colour, there's Red, his real name is... Oh, I can't really remember. In fact, I can only remember Jig, I guess. We had a little group with some other foals, but now they've probably moved on. Me and Red were actually expected to be mates, you know. It was kind of stupid, since we were only that young. But what about you? Any friends, or were they all considered family back there?" Desert finished, sighing lightly at the end of her little speech about her friends back at home. Eagle cocked his head slightly.

"Erm, apart from the group... I've met a whole bunch of horses on my travels, but none of them have really stuck long enough apart from everyone else that you met. But there was this pretty young filly that I grew up with. She was pure black, with a star shape over her eye. What was she called... Ah! Alas-" Eagle was cut off as they wandered into a forest, the tall trees reaching high into the sky. There was a group of horses, mostly chestnut and dark bay. But one was black. With a star on her eye.

"Drift? Drifter? Is that you?" The black mare asked quietly. Her little group stopped eating and looked up. They had heard some many 'legendary' stories of this, Drifter, and how Alaska had loved him ever since they met. She had told them they were destined to meet again. Now they would never hear the end of it! Eagle coughed awkwardly. Desert turned towards him, her head swaying between the two. "It's me, Alaska. Remember? You all thought I had been crushed by boulders. I got saved by these guys." The black mare wasn't pretty as she had been described. She was beautiful. Flowing ebony mane and tail, twinkling coal black eyes, the star on her eye seeming the perfect cherry on top of the cake of perfection.

"Uh, yeah, I-I remember you. Alaska. This is Desert, and I'm not Drifter anymore, it's Eagle." The white colt bowed his head slightly. Desert shifted her hooves uncomfortably, glancing across at the contrasting costs of the Godly horses. Both were beautiful. Handsome. Eagle with his sleek white coat, none dusty black hooves, silken mane, silken tail, his eyes matching Alaska's with that mischevious glint. The young mare suddenly felt out of place, and as of she shouldn't know Eagle. But she pushed her doubts away and lit the fiesty flame inside of her.

"Well, it sure was nice meeting you, but Eagle's taking me to my homeland, and we need to be as quick as we can, so, excuse us." Desert cut in, her tone slightly cold. She tugged sharply on Eagle's mane and began trotting past the small 'herd'. As she passed, the stallions of the group stamped their feet and let out a teasing whinny. She had seen some of the males in her own herd doing that as her mother had passed, letting it off as 'harmless flirting' and winking back at them. Desert turned her head towards them, her mane flowing over her elegant neck.

"No, don't go, stay for the night!" One of them called, being back up but 'yeah!', and 'pretty please?'. Eagle had already seemed to agree and was following Alaska past them to a little cove beside a river at the bottom of a hill. However, this wasn't just a cove, it was merely a pebble on a pristine white beach. Eagle was gazing in awe at the large toadstools, tiny waterfalls, mountain walls, it was perfect. There was a herd of deer, little brown rabbits diving for their holes, bird nests on both dark branches, there was even a whole horse herd living here! The tall trees and mountains provided a very large safety zone. There seemed to be no animal of predator type at all.

"Come on, Desert! You have to see this!" The white colt called back.

"Okay, I'm coming!" She sent back a whinny in reply, letting the four stallions lead her there. Some of them winked at her, so she lowered her head and flattened her ears, waiting to get back to Eagle. This was like a nightmare, the colt she didn't realise she had feelings for had met his childhood love, she had an amazing herd, amazing homeland, and it looked like they were never going to leave, surrounded by everything anyone could've wished for. Great. Just, great.