Descendants: Desert Sun

Summary: The first in a series of fics about the lives of Hidalgo's descendants. Hidalgo's first foal, a colt named Desert Sun, is a gorgeous palomino pinto, and very wild. But can Sun's spirit survive the perils of the wild? And even more dangerous, humans?

Disclaimer: I only own the horses and people I make up.

Chapter One: Desert Sun

My name is Desert Sun.

I come from a long line of wild mustangs. Actually, my father wasn't so wild for a portion of his life. His name was Hidalgo, and he was a strong, striking paint, the horse who shared a joint leadership of our herd, along with my mother, a bright bay mare named Ember.

I was the first of my father's foals. I was a paint paint like my father, but with golden palomino patches instead of dark sorrel, like Hidalgo. The sun would make my coat almost glow, like the desert sun, hence my name.

I am a Mustang.

And this is my story.

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I was born in early spring, in a rocky mountain area, a day's treck away from my herd. Ember was a quiet, private mare, the kind who didn't want her foal to be born in front of all the herd. Plus, she had experience. I was her fifth foal, her first to be born to Hidalgo. The stallion had acquired five of his six mares last year, so all five were heavy with foal.

Before she came to Hidalgo, Ember belonged to a harsh stallion, who didn't treat his mares right. In fact, my mother's first foal was born in the open, and the little filly's own father murdered her.

That's why Ember didn't trust stallions.

I remember the place I was actually born in very faintly. It was in a cave, with nothing, not even bats inside. I remember it being cold on my delicate, rubbery baby hooves, and slippery. But Ember was wise. She knew that neither stallions nor heat could get to me in here.

We were to stay here my first night, then be off, back to the herd, for it was never good for a mare who just foaled to be alone.

As strong as Ember was, even she couldn't fight off a rogue stallion.

There were three differrent types of stallion that I knew off. Bachelors, who were relatively harmless to strong stallions like my father, band stallions, the ones with a family, like Hidalgo, and rogues. Rogues were like bachelors, or were former band stallions, who were murderous and would attack any horse in sight.

Boulder was a rogue.

I saw the steel gray stallion on my very first day of life. He came trotting up to the cave, snorting because he had smelled Ember's journey here.

She backed mye up as far as we could go, hoping that he couldn't smell us at this angle.

Thankfully, he couldn't and trotted away.

Boulder was a leggy, strong stallion. I thought that my father could take him on, but not many other stallions could.

He would kill a foal like me if he could.

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The next morning, Ember roused me my nudging my shoulder sharply, snorting. It was time to go home, back to the herd.

The journey would be a bit hard for a young foal like me, but I endured it. Many horses had treaded this path, and I could smell Boulder's own scent, mixed with the musky scent of rogues. I wrinkled my nose in disgust, and followed Ember.

She stopped very rarely on the trip to eat a bit of grass and let me nurse, but it was so rare that I was almost always hungry that day.

Every now and then, she would snort at something or prick her ears at it, showing me things that were new to my world.

I knew that Ember was very wise, for she was the lead mare of my father's herd. Lead mares are the smartest and strongest in the herd, with the most knoweledge. Even though Ember wasn't the oldest, she was the wisest mare in the herd.

My ears pricked with interest as we neared the herd late that night. They were grazing, maybe some eating, and my father was gazing out into the night, ever vigilant.

Ember gave a long whinny to announce that we were nearing, and trotted happily down. I followed, excited that I would meet my herd for the first time.

Hidalgo pranced up, running his muzzle across Ember's body, making sure she was all right. He then turned to me. All he could see was my head, because Ember was shielding my body. Two legs say I have a nice head, like an 'Arab', but is golden, with a blaze like my mother, and a two-toned forelock.

Hidalgo gently reached down and touched his nose to mine. He was a huge, strong stallion, and I look a lot like him.

I am Hidalgo's son.

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A week after I was born, one mare disappeared like my mother had. When she came back, there was a sturdy dun filly at her side, who's only marking was a snip at the end of her muzzle.

The bossy filly's name was Queenie, my half-sister. Once she loosened up a bit, Queenie was fun to play with, but she rarely did.

But a couple days after Queenie came Mudslide. The plump dark brown colt was mischeivous and, well, slightly foolish, but for the next few months, none of the other mares were due to foal, so he and Queenie were my playmates.

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When I was three weeks old, Queenie, Mudslide and I were wandering around when we came upon a horrid sight.

A dead horse.

He held the scent of a bachelor, and I could see two pinpricks where a rattler had bitten him. Mudslide and Queenie were nervously squealing, but I was silent. Still, our mothers and Hidalgo came over.

Hidalgo walked over to me, and nodded toward the corpse. My father was teaching me a lesson.

Only the strong live in our world.

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Well? My first Hidalgo fic... R and R!

El