Disclaimer: Once again, I do not own Dreamworks' or Kathleen Duey's characters in any way, shape, or form.
Part 3: Graceful Maiden
Chapter 7: More Humans?
I stayed by the stream for several days in the end, ambling into the water when I couldn't stand the flies' and mosquitoes' biting any longer. I think all of the water kept my wounds from becoming infected, too. I remembered that the soldiers at the post and the Lakota warriors would repeatedly wash their horses' wounds until they healed over, among other things. So, I waited until my own wounds had mostly healed before moving on.
The only place to go, however, was the open plain, and the forest only extended so far. I ventured out into the plain, keeping the tree-line within sight. I knew coyotes lived out here, so I could always run back to the forest if I had to.
The plains were incredibly lonely. The only sound around me was the howl of the wind and the rustle of the long-grass. I was sure that I would hear predators coming, since it was so quiet. I wondered if I would find a herd of mustangs out here.
I continued on like this for two more days, occasionally returning to the forest to rest to find food or to drink from a small watering hole. It was towards the end of the second day when I caught the scent of horses on the wind. I couldn't see a herd nearby—couldn't hear one, either—so I kept going. When nightfall came, I could see a faint (very faint) glow off in the distance, and I could smell smoke. No doubt that this was a human settlement, though I couldn't know just who had settled there.
I decided to work my way closer to the settlement through the forest over the next few days, that way I could slip away if they were not the sort of humans I wanted to be with. I hoped nothing too out of the ordinary would happen.
When the sun rose a few mornings later, I still couldn't see the settlement against the dull brown color of the grass. But the remnants of a fire were stronger on the wind now, and I could smell the horses, too. Perhaps this was a cavalry settlement of some sort.
I walked on a little more before I heard whooping and hollering and the thunder of hooves on the ground. I retreated further into the trees and waited.
A group of twenty mounted warriors rocketed by. The men carried tomahawks, spears, bows and arrows, and firearms. They wore animal skins and paint and feathers, and their horses were just as ornately decorated. Natives…they were Natives, but, this far out into the plains? What was there to hunt this late in the year, anyway?
As I watched them gallop away, I wondered how I would approach the herd. If the village had the ability to send that many hunters out at once, with more to spare to guard the village and move their supplies, then the herd must be enormous. I couldn't very well walk up to the herd in broad daylight and expect them to accept me. No, I would have to be "discovered" by the hunters when they come back. Since I hadn't really stopped to rest in a while anyway, I waited where I was. That way, the hunters could pass me by without realizing that I was there, and then I could follow their tracks later on.
They were gone most the morning, because the shadows had become much shorter while I'd been dozing. Then I heard hoof-beats. The warriors passed, toting large animal-skin satchels full of meat and bones with them. I heard them cheering and hollering excitedly, and I could hear the far-off responses of the lookouts who had probably been patrolling around the village. The hardest part was resisting the urge to take off immediately after them. I had to make it appear as though I was wandering along when they eventually found me. I did, however, get the chance to see them disappear beneath a faraway hilltop. I was surprised that I had gotten so close to the settlement so quickly.
I slowly made my way along the edge of the forest, remaining as inconspicuous as possible. I could hear the sounds of the villagers growing louder as I neared the village. It was then that I realized that the land before me was devoid of forestland—everywhere but the land on my left was rolling grassland. Hazy mountain ranges poked up from the horizon to my right and in front of me, and there was no doubt in my mind that more grasslands were beyond the mountains.
I could see the villagers now as they came and took meat and bones from the hunters. They had built their homes around the trough between two hills, and their horses grazed several yards away from them. They twenty horses that had just returned from the hunt stood in a group near their riders, while another thirty or forty stood in the distance. I noted that most of the horses were dark in color—mostly browns and chestnuts and colors like that—with only a handful of greys, pintos, and other colors. That made sense, of course. (You wouldn't want to stand out against the color of the grass and ruin a hunt or a battle.) I began to think that I should give up on my plan—my own light coloring would matter less to a herd of horses than to a group of humans that relied of stealth and concealment.
The wind blew in from my rear, taking my scent straight towards the horses as they waited to be cleaned. Almost as one unit, they raised their heads and looked at me, sniffing the air. Some of the males even lifted their lips to gather more information about me. One of them turned to fully face me and whinnied. This got the warriors' attention, and they followed their horses' gaze.
I couldn't hear anything that they said with the wind blowing in my ears, but I could see that they were excited to see me. Some of the villagers had been nearby and heard them talking about me. They stood with the warriors, looking me over.
I stopped walking and bent my head to sample some of the grass. I'd been staring at the horses longer than good manners allowed, and I dared not to ruin my chances of getting into the herd.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that one of the warriors had walked up to one of the horses. I continued to graze, minding my own business. Then I heard hoof-beats coming my way. I picked my head up when a shadow crossed over me.
A very pretty brown mare stood before me. She made a chuffing sound in her nose and tossed her head. A thick flowing mane and forelock moved with the wind. She offered her muzzle to me in greeting, and I returned the gesture to exchange breaths.
"Will you come back with me?" she asked.
"…Is it all right if I do? Your humans have so many horses as it is," I replied quietly.
"Oh, it's all right. There's always a young warrior in need of a horse. And they're good humans."
"They seem it," I mused.
She tossed her head again, her thick black mane falling around her face. "Please come with me. You don't have to worry."
I considered my options: keep wandering through a land that was unfamiliar to me, or go with this mare and live a good life with good humans….
I nodded my head and took a step forward. The brown mare whinnied happily and leapt around like a foal, kicking at the air with her hooves. She ended up far of me, and stopped to wait for me catch up.
One of the humans called to her. She nudged me forward into a trot, then took the lead and met the man where he stood.
I froze mid-step when I heard my name. It was a name that I had not heard since my youth.
"Adelia!" one of the horses whinnied. I looked up and saw a blue roan stallion calling to me. He stood with another stallion and two mares, and all four of them were stiff and looked ready to gallop. They also had "US" burned into their shoulders.
Then I remembered. They had been playmates of mine from the fort, and had not escaped with Leo, Duke, and the others and me all those years ago.
I couldn't control myself any longer. I stood on my rear legs and let out a long, joyful whinny. They joined me and ran to me, galloping circles and ducking and weaving playfully. The other horses and the warriors were dumbfounded.
My old friends and I started our own little game of chase, just as we had when we were foals and yearlings. I remembered our mothers shaking their heads as we'd chased one another around the paddock.
One of the warriors came up to us after we'd calmed down, and my friends stepped aside as he walked. He held his hand out to me, and I gladly touched my muzzle to his palm without hesitation. I sensed immediately that I would be in good hands.
"Well, pretty one," he said, "it looks as though you already have some friends here."
The others nickered in agreement, and lead the way over towards the rest of the warriors' horses. How lucky was I to have found familiar faces after all this time?
