Dawn arrived finally, with plenty of good-morning nickers, a glorious light summer breeze, and the whisper of the land waking up. Spirit, the herd leader (with help from his mother, the boss mare), was up earlier and brighter than the sun, like usual. But today he wasn't alone.

Rain, the beautiful (and fast), formerly Native American mare, was with him. They were like that so much of the time, that rumours had it within the wild herd they were sure to have a baby. There were married through the normal herd customs only a short while ago, when Spirit had finally returned from his adventure with Man.

Everyone but Rain and Little Creek were oblivious to how hard it actually was for the horses, and the Native American boy, to leave the kind tribe. Once Spirit got to know them for how they truly were, he realized they weren't too different from his own 'tribe'. But Rain had lived with that tribe all her life, and was especially close to Little Creek. Even though Native Americans were strongly encouraged to ride horses (or ponies) of their own gender, but Little Creek had taken her under his wing without a second thought.

As Rain and Spirit were quietly grazing together in their new 'sacred place', watching the sun finally start to peek out at the land, a land more wild than even the horse herd, she thought of her own history once more:

Rain was born only nine years ago, to a beautiful Native American mare and the quickest stallion of the tribe, on a warm, but wet night. It was nearing autumn, and all the children without chores were being lazy that day, for their was a light rain lasting all day, which made it too wet (and otherwise unreasonable, for everyone's hiding in some sort of shelter) to go hunting or play games. Which was why they named her Rain.

Soon after she stood up for the first time, some of the older boys of the tribe went to see her, thinking she may be a colt (a boy baby horse), but lost interest when they realized she wasn't. One boy, however, took extreme interest in her-and even more as she grew older, and began racing the other foals. She quickly gained a reputation as the quickest filly (girl baby horse), and then onto the quickest foal. She grew quickly, as well, and became one of the most popular horses of the tribe: she was one of the most beautiful, with gorgeous blue eyes, and a brown/white paint coat; she was the quickest (Little Creek rode her often in races for fun, and she beat everyone, except her father); and she was one of the most gentle and kind mare the tribe had ever seen. These were also the reason Spirit fell in love with her at first sight.

Spirit grew up in a very different culture: he was one of the only foals of the herd leader; the others were mares, who didn't show interest in becoming boss mare. So, he was taught all the necessities of being a strong, clever, quick, and caring leader. Obviously, he was the quickest stallion, or horse for that matter, in the herd. Unfortunately, he never raced his father: the former leader died before Spirit was born. Spirit didn't have an official name until Little Creek named him at their parting. Spirit was bold, strong, determined, and very loyal: almost getting himself killed a few times to save Little Creek and Rain, not to mention all the times he saved his herd. He was a dark buckskin with black lining down his back, a black tail, and a black mane. Sometimes, he could be a bit of a showoff...and stuck-up. He was hailed as a king in his herd; not used to being disrespected. And, before meeting Rain, he would race a close friend, a very fast bald eagle. Several times he would pass under his shadow of wings, and felt he must be flying. Even the big racing thoroughbreds we see today couldn't compare. He glanced over lazily as he noticed Rain stop pulling up grass for a moment.

Back in the large clearing, Esperanza (Spirit's mother) was gently waking everyone up, already aware Spirit was with Rain. Like usual, she guided them along their route to the river where they always had their morning drink. Sometimes, the herd would run wildly through it and over the overgrown grass, which they would feed on later.

Esperanza was wise and gentle-the perfect mother for Spirit. She was always able to pull the herd through, even in tough times. She mirrored Spirit's coloring, but her coat lighter, and she had cream-colored mane and tail, versus black. Spirit warned her of Man, but she thought nothing could ever penetrate their safe haven: this was her birthplace; the place that was never dangerous; the place thousands of animals lived on everyday; only rain, snow, and the wind ever changed. That's they it's been for generations, how could it suddenly change now? Nobody disagreed with her logic, and if anyone had, they wouldn't dare say it out loud. As they waited for Spirit to come for his morning drink and lead the herd to a nice field for grazing, some of the foals began playing. Esperanza smiled lovingly as they splashed and ran just as Spirit had done the day he met a buffalo.

She took a drink from the cool water. Her whole life, this river had always flowed. It never changed, never dried up, never flooded or tried to nab her son away. Why change now?