From at the bottom of the cliffs or at sea, you might make out a black shape at the top of one of the high cliffs. Up close, it was a herd of horses. And not a black shape, but a pure white horse, known as Snowbird.
I'm Clara. I'm a horse shifter, the last one of my kind.
This story is traveling with me to find my mate. There has to be one more horse shifter out there for me.
NOTE: THIS WAS MY FIRST BOOK. DO NOT JUDGE MY WRITING BASED OF THIS BOOK. I WAS PROBABLY 10 AND HAD NO UNDERSTANDING OF GRAMMAR OR HOW TO PUT TOGETHER CHAPTERS YET. ILL FIX ALL OF IT EVENTUALLY BUT IM LAZY. THANK YOU.