Chasing the Stars

Songs

I wake up with the sun, the next morning.

I hate it.

"Whyyyyyy," I mumble, rolling over. "Why nowwww, sunnnnnnn?"

My mane is messy, and I look more sandy yellow than black, gold, and white.

I'm covered with wretched sand.

I shake off most of the sand, but there is still quite a bit of it left there. I have a feeling that it's going to be there for a while.

My throat feels dry and my stomach growls, reminding me of how I haven't eaten or drank any water since yesterday morning when I was still on the boat. I shake again, but the tiny grains of sand stay.

Stretching my legs, I stare at the ocean. Last night it had been a brilliant blue-purple, shimmering and calm, but now it's a dark black-blue-green, all rough waves and cold water, and grey clouds threaten a storm on the horizon.

Heading off at a brisk trot, I head off towards the pond in the middle of the island.

Fortunately, it's surrounded by grass and lush bushes, and trees that provide shade.

Unfortunately?

It's more of a puddle than a pond. It's still clear and good to drink, so I drink.

And drink.

And drink.

When I look up, all of the water is gone, leaving a soggy dirt hole. How could I have been so idiotic? I just drank the only source of clean water on the island.

Don't worry! A little voice inside me whispers hopefully. There'll be rain tonight! That means more water!

Rain also means that I need shelter! Another part of me snaps. A shelter that we don't have!

I sigh. Is there so little to do on this island, that I'm resigning to arguing with myself?

I shake my head, clearing my thoughts that were fuzzy from the thick, muggy, humid air. It makes my mane frizzy and my fur sticks up.

A storm is coming for sure.

I walk back down to the beach after a short graze on the grass outside of the now-empty puddle/pond. I am going to try to take a swim in the ocean, as it might cure my sand-filled coat and frizzy mess of a mane and tail.

The cold stings my hooves and ankles, but I keep plodding in. The current rushes past my flank, carrying the little sand particles off.

Finally!

As I take another step, something digs into my hoof, and I cry, as the saltwater stings the cut like nothing I've ever felt before.

"Ow! Ow ow ow ow ow!" I yelp, splashing out of the water. The object comes out of my foot and onto the sand, and I can see that it is a sharp stone.

I hate sharp stones.

I'm hit with a pang of loss as I remember how one time when I was a young filly, there was a sharp stone in the paddock, and I stepped on it.

Soon, Jacob found me limping and checked my feet. He gently pried the stone out and put an ointment on the cut. A few days later, I was fine.

But there is no Jacob to smear a smelly ointment on my cut this time, so I'll have to limp for a bit to keep it clean.

The sky darkens with clouds, even though it is late morning.

To keep my mind off the pain, and the worry of the storm coming, I imagine what Jacob is doing right now.

"He's probably training Rose." I nicker to myself. "And he's probably wearing his red saddle with painted roses. He always wears the one on her. And she'll be wearing her crimson bridle that has all of those fake rubies studded on the browband, and the white and red striped saddle pad." I laugh softly.

She'll be tossing her ginger mane with streaks of red mane dye that Jacob put in, her glossy red coat perfectly groomed.

I can imagine that Jacob will be saying the dressage commands to her and she would gracefully do exactly what she said. Rose and I have our talents. I, jumping, and her dressage. My big hooves and wild spirit made me clumsy at dressage and Rose's easily spooked personality made her stop in front of the jump every time.

Her crush, Storm, was a western racer, his big frame turning around the barrels and poles.

It's a good thing that Jacob is a man of many talents, because all of his horses have one type of riding that suits us.

A rumble of far-off thunder interrupts my thinking, and again many hours have passed, and it is late afternoon.

I groan and walk towards the best shelter I have. The trees don't provide much, but it's better than nothing. The thickly packed leaves might keep out some rain. But I don't know what will happen if lightning strikes. Then I'm cooked. Literally.

I chuckle at the dark thought.

I stare at the darkening sky, lost in thought. Why did Jacob give me away? Who were those people? What did they say to him that made him upset, and then made him later send me onto a desert island? Did I do something wrong?

A rumble and a crack! startles me back into the present.

I paw at the ground until a small nest-like hole appears. I turn around and fall into the nest. It's warm and soft, but very dirty, and it doesn't smell amazing, but I'll live with it.

I have to live and make do with a lot of things on this island.

BOOM! The thunder reminds me of how a storm still hangs over this tiny island, making me wonder how long it is until the lightning announces its presence.

CRACK!

Not very long, apparently.

I shift my hoof around and lower myself into the small hole, and I stifle a little gasp of pain as my hoof that has a cut on it lands in the dirt. I shake my hoof, growling.

The rain pours down, and I start humming.

I make a mental, personal goal to add to the growing song inside my head, my heart, and my soul.

"Sleep, my little one, the sky is dark with night. Do not be afraid. You are as safe as the moon is high. Hush, little foal. The stars make not a peep. The night will protect you, as you drift off to sleep." I raise my head to the starry sky as the rain pours and the Thunder booms and the lightning crackles.

"The night can be scary," I sing, drowning out the sounds of the storm. "The night can be cold. But don't think about that, think about what the future may hold. There will be nightmares, there will be fear, but when those nightmares come, I will be right here." the melody in my heart pounds, and my head sings and my body thrums, and I become completely unaware of the outside world and sounds.

"Sleep, my little one!" I sing, my eyes closing, but not with sleep or fear, with a feeling of great love and peace. "The sky is dark with night! Do not be afraid, you are as safe as the moon is high! Hush, little foal! The stars do not make a peep! The night will protect you, as you drift off to sleep." The thunder fades to a soft thrum to the beat of the song, and the wind carries the undertones through me, and the rain pounds on the leaf to the rhythm. I continue singing. "The night can be scary! The night can be cold! But don't think about that, think about what the future may hold! There will be nightmares, there will be fear! But when those nightmares come, I will be right here!"

And the night passes and I fall asleep, singing my heart out to the stars.