The Lost Foal

At just one year old, Rune had not yet fully developed the strength and endurance to match the rest of the herd. His legs were still small and gangly, and though he was strong in spirit, his pace couldn't keep up with the adults. He trotted as fast as his little legs could carry him, but the others were already ahead, their shapes fading into the horizon.

As the journey continued, Rune's breathing became heavier, and his pace slowed. He called out, his high-pitched whinny lost in the wind, but the herd, too focused on their destination, didn't notice his struggle. By the time the first stars began to twinkle in the sky, Rune was alone, lost in the vast wilderness. The shadows of the night closed in, and the foal, frightened and unsure, wandered deeper into the unknown.