What's better than releasing a new, exciting chapter earlier than anticipated? I hope this will brighten your day during quarantine!

I already left a lengthy author's note in reviews section, but I would once again like to thank everyone who took time to share their thoughts and support this story.

Also, as you noticed, I've changed the format of chapter titles and the music lyrics. I hope you guys like it. If not, let me know and I'll switch it back. :)


Chapter 23

Run To You

"I gotta fight another fight, I gotta fight with all my might." - You Can't Take Me by Bryan Adams.


After his strikingly bold cry, which was the neigh of the coming victory as well as solace for the captive mare, the young, blood-bay stallion for a while, moved silently through the trees parallel with where the small hut was located, watching and watching Rain. The two men seemed to be dumbstruck at his sudden, roaring announcement, possibly trying to figure out where the stallion cry had come from. In fact, the two-legged captors had become so transfixed with the unanticipated arrival of the mysterious stallion, that they did not even hear Rain whinnying softly when she weakly lifted her head, looked through the bush and spotted Bolder. Before the men could notice his presence, the Lone Stallion had to do what he did best – merge in with the shadows and disperse from their view. Very cautiously, but quickly, Bolder trotted back to the thick bushes on the other side, where Great Conquest and Nova were hiding and spoke.

"Rain knows that the help has come. Now all we have to do is divert the two-leggeds and get her and the human to safety."

"Do you have a solid plan?" Demanded Great Conquest impatiently.

"Yes, I will lead their captors away, all the while you go down there and free Rain."

"What about the frightening stallion in that yard?" Nova asked, her tone apprehensive and uneasy.

Great Conquest and Bolder's gaze focused on the paddock the filly had pointed out. A liver chestnut stallion, whose built and frame was unlike any horse either of the three onlookers had seen, paced about restlessly. Bolder shifted his stare at Great Conquest, slightly worried. "He does seem aggressive. He is aware of our presence and will do anything to stop us."

"Wait, is there another horse with him?" Great Conquest cut in suddenly, as he snorted in confusion.


A desolate neigh, quite different from the courageous cry they had heard moments ago, rang in preoccupied Johnny's ears, snapping him from his bewildered state. His attention was back on his own horses as he noted with great displeasure that the horse in Diablo's pen, had sunk to the ground and was presently whinnying out of agony, most probably the unfortunate creature was gasping for his last breath.

"Damn it, Gus! Didn't I tell you to shoot the poor bastard? Instead you had to go ahead and bring him here!" He exclaimed angrily in frustration and snatching the long rifle from his less competent friend's hand, he cocked it, walking up to the paddock of his Arabian steed and the dying horse. The man was at his wit's end with all the pesky obstacles that seemed to be getting in his way when it came to trapping the renowned stallion of the Cimarron.

Little Creek, comprehending what Johnny was about to do, moved closer to Rain, holding the pregnant mare in an embrace, as if to prevent her from hearing or seeing what was about to happen. Rain was still lying on the ground, powerless to stand up, but she had managed to raise her head and was currently conscious of the horrifying preceding that was taking place. Her heart lurched within her chest and she shut her blue eyes, burying her nose in Little Creek's arms.

"Aww...the poor fella. He has been struggling for weeks." The brown gelding of Johnny, who had been confined in the same yard as Rain, and was presently being tacked up by Gus, commented lowly. "I'm glad master is finally putting him out of his misery."

"W-what happened to him?" A quivering noise escaped Rain's trembling lips.

"He was rounded up months ago with his bachelor band. While his herd mates were cut and sold just fine, this fella had some kind of an infection due to the surgery. My master thought he'd get better, but he didn't." The gentle horse explained and hung his head in sadness, causing Rain to shudder violently at his words, while Gus uncaringly threw a saddle on the horse's back.

The paint mare instantly remembered the time when Bolder had come to her, begging for her assistance to release a captured bachelor herd. Regrettably, she couldn't offer to do much and therefore, it was twice as chilling to hear that this poor horse was about to be killed so mercilessly. If only she had done something sooner...she couldn't help but feel guilty and utterly sick to her already aching stomach. Tears built up her blue pools and Rain let out a fearful whimper. In that moment, she prayed for Bolder to somehow swoop in and deliver her and Little Creek from this excruciating, endless torture. She couldn't bear to be in that dreadful place any longer. All she wanted to do was get away...far, far away.


"Oh dear goodness, it's...Onyx." Nova whispered in tremor, as soon as she recognized the collapsed horse that Great Conquest had inquired about. For a split second, she stared at her brother in perplexed stillness, feeling completely confounded and helpless, yet she could not understand why he was unable to support his weight and stand up. What was wrong with him? But when the three, secretive eyewitnesses observed one of the two-legged's grabbing a long, metal weapon, and purposefully move towards the agonized horse, Bolder and Great Conquest gasped in realization of the severity of the situation. Before anything even more horrendous could transpire, and before Nova could scream with a loud voice, Bolder urgently and very desperately turned to the grey, war stallion.

"Get her out of here, now!"

Great Conquest didn't need to be told twice, as a warrior who had participated and seen many bloodshed, he knew exactly what was going to happen and if Nova shrieked, she would give away their hiding place. Besides, she shouldn't be allowed to watch such a graphically dreadful scene anyway. Swinging rapidly, Great Conquest, with a forceful propel, drove Nova further from the hut, making it impossible for the protesting filly to see the nightmarish deed.

"What are they going to do to him?!" Neighed the hysterical Nova in terror, part of her perceiving the agonizing occurrence and another part, refusing to come to terms with it.

"Keep her quiet." Hissed Bolder, as he watched Great Conquest snaking the filly far and away.

"NO! Onyx!" She instantaneously and to Bolder's dismay, let out a petrified, but loud squeal that could even be heard on the opposite banks of the Yellowstone River.

What followed Nova's noisy outburst was a tremendous, ear-piercing sound of the man-made weapon that never failed to send fear even into the most bravest creature, and the torment of the dark horse was finally over as his heart stopped beating. Bolder had become white with horror because of what he had witnessed and for a second, he stood, rooted in one place, absolutely immobile.

While Great Conquest had succeeded in getting further away from the cabin together with the scuffling, frenzied, hysterical Nova, Gus and Johnny had both heard their loud fussing and had spotted the young stallion hiding in the bushes. Because it was midnight, and the light of the moon was covered with enormous, black clouds, Johnny could only make out a shadow of the mysterious stallion. Bolder was similarly built as Spirit. If it weren't for their different coloring, their physique was almost identical and at night, they resembled one another as though they were one and the same.

"We got him!" Cried the triumphant Johnny, believing the Lone Stallion to be his fabled Ghost Horse and suddenly, grabbing a lasso, he mounted his already saddled brown gelding that Gus had tacked for him. "I swear I'll catch that demon now!" Digging the spurs in the poor horse's flank, the mad gallop was initiated as he raced towards where Bolder stood. Automatically, Gus forgot about everything and everyone, and jumping on his own horse, swiftly darted after his crazed, obsessed friend, who was whooping and cheering in victory.

It took Bolder several seconds to comprehend what was happening. And as soon as he came to an alarming realization that he was being targeted, he spun round and soared away, fleeing from his relentless captors, who were in hot pursuit.

Meanwhile, Little Creek, was slowly but surely growing weaker and weaker. The bullet from his shoulder wound had not been taken out and his body was not accustomed to having a foreign, metal object stuck inside. On top of it, his continuous bleeding had not ceased and because of it, he had grown rather feverish. Upon noticing that the two men were no longer concerned with him and Rain, Little Creek feebly turned to his heavily pregnant mare.

"Come on Rain, you have to get up." He panted, imploring her to rise. "You can do this. I believe in you." He clucked his tongue, encouraging the struggling mare to stand up. "You have to do this for your foal. You have to be strong, my girl. Please, do it for both of us." He entreated in utter desperation as he stared deeply into Rain's blue eyes.

Something about the way the warn out Little Creek spoke to her and supported her, made the young mare's spirits return to her, almost reviving her from her anguished state. She knew just how hopeless her owner was. He was wounded and suffering, but he couldn't bring himself to let Rain and her unborn foal face the same disastrous fate as he was presently facing.

Collecting all her strength, Rain desperately attempted to force her frail body up from the ground. It took all of her efforts and all her pain, as sweat drenched from her forehead.

"Good girl! Come on. You've got this." Continued Little Creek as he placed his arms underneath her body and assisted her to push herself in a standing position. After three failed tries, Rain had successfully managed to shakily stand on her four legs again. Without losing much time, Little Creek opened the paddock gate and quickly led his mare out. Knowing full well that his loyal Rain would not abandon him, Little Creek resolved to desperate measures.

"Go! Get out of here!" He gave her a firm, but gentle smack on the rump. Rain was startled at his action, but she did not think of leaving. She gazed at him in sorrow, sensing what he was asking her to do and dreading it altogether.

"I'm sorry, girl." Taking a deep, heavy sigh, Little Creek grasped Johnny's whip that he had dropped in his hurry to capture the stallion, and cracked it beside Rain, hoping to frighten her away.

"Get out of here, Rain! Go, save yourself and your foal! You are my number one, remember that." He spoke to her frantically and attempted to chase her out of the area, his gaze glossy from tears.

Trembling with physical and emotional affliction, Rain decided to listen to her guardian's desperate appeals. "Goodbye, my dearest friend." She let out a devastated cry of utmost grief and broke into a lope, forcefully ripping herself away from Little Creek. She had realized in misery that as an upcoming mother, her primary responsibility lay in her foal's safety.

Little Creek released a relieved exhale, as he watched his steadfast mare canter freely and depart from the hellish nightmare that they were stuck in. He hoped to the highest heaven that she would meet up with Spirit, give birth to his healthy foal and then all three of them would run far, far away to their wild lands where no human would be able to find them. That, of course, was just a wish. He silently prayed to the Great Spirit, asking him to give strength to the fleeing stallion and avoid capture once more as he had done many, many times. Little Creek's head began to spin, he shivered and his eyes became blurry as his gaze shifted towards the dark sky. The last thing he saw was a majestic image of a bald eagle, soaring across the limitless world and uttering a mournful, high-pitched cry. Was it a reality or a vision? Little Creek didn't have too much time to dwell on it, because suddenly, everything went blank.


Bolder galloped through the night, his pursuers rapidly gaining up on him. Since both of the tamed horses had been well rested before the chase began, neither of them had a problem going as fast as the escaping stallion. In addition, both Johnny and Gus were whipping and spurring their horses with all their might, urging them to gallop as swiftly as they could, desperately attempting to trap the prized Mustang at last. The moon cast its eerie light in the trees, creating ghostly shapes in the trees, which added to Bolder's anxiety. Due to darkness, Johnny could barely see the racing silhouette of the stallion ahead of him, but he was almost sure that it was he, who he had wanted to tame for so long now.

Johnny got his lasso ready, as his horse came up to Bolder's flank. The flighty stallion and his two determined hunters darted through and out of the forest and presently an open country lay ahead of them. Bolder's heart was thudding with fear and anger. He was growing nervous in despair. None of it was supposed go like this. Onyx had been shot dead, Great Conquest and Nova were nowhere in sight, Rain's human was hurt, and the mare herself seemed to be in labour. The circumstances were dire and incredibly chaotic. His thoughts were completely scattered, and more he panicked the more he lost control of the situation as well as his cool. If he got captured, who would be left to rescue Rain, her human and himself? Where had Great Conquest and Nova vanished? How many two-leggeds had stayed behind in that hut? Were there more of them guarding Rain and Little Creek? Did that stallion in the paddock represent danger to Rain? All these distressed, racing emotions were making Bolder flounder. His eyes focused on the outstretched territory that lay in front of him. Evading capture would be so difficult in an open country. The shielding trees of the forest were far behind him, and all Bolder could think about was what he could do next to get away from the persistent men.

To the hopeless young stallion's terror, the ropes went flying through the moonlight and hit his shoulders. It was a real close one and Johnny cursed under his breath. This caused Bolder to accelerate his speed, even though he was becoming exhausted and desperate by the passing second. He had never undergone anything like this before. All of his instincts were telling him to run, to flee from the possible doom. The first time he had been chased was alongside Spirit, and while that experience was challenging enough...at least, he had not been alone. But now, Bolder was all by himself against two cunning men and their two agile horses. He was also diverted in his thoughts and unable to concentrate on anything. He was worried for Rain, for Nova, Great Conquest, Little Creek and for himself. His high-strung sensations only doubled his levels of stress. He was too frightened to plan, all he could do was gallop onwards, pushing himself further and further away from the pursuing two-leggeds.

There were no trees, no timber, nothing where Bolder could somehow find refuge. Bolder was nearing the edge of the open country, and noticed that not too far ahead, a cliff lay before him. Terror went through him when he realized that he was being driven right over the high ridge and if he didn't stop, he'd plummet down to his ruin. A tough choice had to be made: Die as a free soul or stay alive as a captive.

"We got him now!" Victoriously cheered Johnny. There was nowhere to run for the wild stallion. It was over...or so he thought.

Bolder didn't have time to think, he stumbled, his legs seemed to fail him and a lasso was whistling from both directions, but clipped him on the ear and fell to the ground like a dead snake.

"He who stands alone...is one with the Ghost." For a split second, the Lone Stallion spotted that right ahead, at the very edge of the cliff, a shiny black stallion was rearing on his hind legs. A shudder went through him and before he could blink, the dark phantom extended his stride and leaped from the ridge. This caused Bolder to tumble backwards in utter confusion and immediately a rope soared through the dark sky and would quite successfully fasten round on Bolder's neck, had it not been for a certain, golden-colored stallion that cut in, aggressively charging at Gus on his chestnut horse and knocking him flying.

"Damn it all to hell! This wasn't your Ghost!" Shouted Gus as he crashed on the ground really hard, while his horse spooked and bolted away from the scene.

Nevertheless, the rope that was meant for Bolder fell on the interfering golden stallion's neck, and just then, he also got a blinding cut across the eyes with Johnny's whip.

"I cannot believe this!" Cried the triumphant cowboy. "I've caught the devil at last!" All of Johnny's attention was now on his esteemed prize, as he forgot about the existence of his fallen companion as well as Bolder, who was panting breathlessly in puzzlement.

"I'll handle this! It's me he wants! Go, save Rain!" Bellowed Spirit, turning to the blood-bay stallion with extreme urgency. Even though, Bolder had countless questions in that moment, he did not hesitate to comply and without further thought, swung promptly and galloped back to the cabin, leaving Spirit to deal with the relentless two-legged creature by himself.

Before another lasso could entangle him, Spirit swiftly spun and made a wild rush at Johnny's horse, almost causing the wrangler to fall off. Then Spirit reared high, leaping away and snapped himself into a mad gallop. The rope must have burnt the man's hands as it rushed through them. He heard him swear. He felt him tighten his hold on the knotted end of it, but nothing would stop Spirit now. Rotating, the stallion changed the course of their direction as he galloped back to the trees and away from the cliff. Johnny still desperately held the end of the rope and Spirit must indeed fly if he was to rid himself of the two-legged completely.

The golden stallion raced back through the forest and the night, past branches that were like hands to hold him, over logs, over rocks. The man was close behind him, trying to catch up, trying to take in the slack of the rope. He galloped through a stand of thin tree branches so close together that there was hardly space for him to go between them. There came a ghastly pull on the rope, as the man went on the wrong side of a tree, then a thud and the sound of a horse galloping without a rider. Spirit was stopped short in his stride and spun round by the rope, choking and gasping for breath; then he felt the rope go absolutely slack, and saw the man, on foot, blundering towards him.

The stallion turned and fled, the rope trailing beside him. Ahead of him, the forests were thinning out and the open country was in view. He could distract the two-legged longer and give Bolder time to rescue Rain and Little Creek. In truth, Spirit, after his fruitless conversation with Cloud had started off towards the Lakota settlement, but by evening, the Bald Eagle had alerted him that both Rain and her human friend were in a huge trouble and needed his help now more than ever. As soon as he had heard the grave news, Spirit flew across the lands, searching for the two-legged cabin where Rain and Little Creek had been taken.

Currently, for a brief moment, Spirit forgot the trailing rope. The tame gelding of Johnny was standing in the clear country, its bridle reins hanging from the bit. It began to trot sideways, avoiding the reins. The man was coming, and the horse stopped and waited, trembling at the strangeness of being saddled and bridled but riderless in the mountain night. Johnny was realizing his foolish mistake as he walked up to his horse. He should've taken Diablo with him instead of Brownie. He was positively sure that if Diablo had been there with him, he would've caught Spirit and even that other stallion that resembled the golden horse, without a problem.

Spirit continued to gallop, as he sped on over the valleys. Presently there came the beat of the tamed horse's hooves as it raced purposefully after him, the man on its back once more. For a moment, despair seized through Spirit, but then hope followed. True, the man was close behind, yet that also meant that he was far away from Rain. Bolder had more than enough time to get to her and Little Creek, and somehow get them both to safety. He simply had to!

Miles and miles of outstretched lands lay between Spirit and the safety of his own Cimarron Homeland. He still had a rope hanging from his neck as he galloped on and on. Somewhere nearby, he heard a cry of his Eagle friend, who reminded him that no matter what, he needed to remain free. Spirit wanted to throw up his head and answer, but he decided against it, realizing that all his concentration and focus had to be on his pursuer.

A dark line of trees was ahead of him and above him. In the trees he might hide himself better … Surely a wild stallion could escape from a man in the darkness … but he had that accursed rope around his neck. Through the trees he galloped. Spirit felt the rope snagging and, without understanding, went faster. All of a sudden there was no ground in front of him. He propped and could just see the faint light of a small creek not far below him before he jumped. There was a sudden, sickening pull on the rope that swung him round in mid-air. His hind feet touched the ground, but his forelegs could reach nothing. The rope was tight, strangling him just like that horrendous day when a chain round his neck had almost choked him to death, while escaping from the forest fire that he had created. If it weren't for the appearance of Little Creek, he would've died that day. But...who would save him now? Little Creek needed help himself. Spirit was supposed to be the rescuer...almost everyone relied on him.

What was going to happen to Rain and their possible foal if he died so stupidly? What if Bolder couldn't get her to safety fast enough? What if the man, realizing that the horse he wanted had died, went after Bolder and Rain instead?

Then Spirit did indeed panic. He desperately scrabbled at the little rock cliff with his forefeet, but could get no hold and only swung around on his hind legs. Up there, in the darkness above him, a branch or a fork in a tree must be holding the rope fast. The strength flowed out of him as the loop tightened round his neck and stopped his breathing. The darkness in front of his eyes was not just the darkness of the night, and he saw bright lights where no stars were. Through the roaring in his ears he heard a sound and then a voice. Something rough and scratching slipped over his head and ears, and the suffocating tightness of the rope was suddenly released. Spirit's forefeet dropped to the ground but his knees gave way and he collapsed onto the bank of the little stream. The gulps of air with which he filled his lungs began to bring back strength to his limbs. The dancing light faded from in front of his eyes. After a while he could very well have got up, but he felt the rough rope halter on his head and could see the outline of a man standing close to his shoulder. Spirit continued to lie on the ground, gasping for breath, wondering what to do, hoping the man might let go the rope for a minute. And as he lay there and listened to the fearful rasp of his breath in his throat, he thought he saw a magnificent black stallion go past, stepping high – proud, free horse that could only be his father – but this was all just his imagination: he was alone in the night with a halter on his neck, and a man standing beside him. What could he do?

Perhaps he might pretend he was dead. Spirit had done something of that sort before quite successfully. He let himself flop over onto his side, let his breathing die down till he hoped there was no visible movement of his flanks. He tried to look utterly collapsed. A growling thunder could be heard in the distance and a faint mist of rain had started to come down at last, its gentle drops falling on his face very softly. The sounds of a cricket in the grass, of a bird stirring in its sleep, only made the silence deeper. Then from far away, towards the mountains, came the Eagle's cry, distant but clear. Spirit knew he must lie still and show no sign that he was alive. Not even a nerve twitched. The Bald Eagle's cry came from even further away, and now, as he lay playing dead, the untamed lands seemed to be full of whisperings of long ago – old horses and old times. "You are one of us," the horses of long ago were saying. "You have courage and you are learning wisdom!"

And it seemed to the exhausted Spirit that the one who spoke was a mighty black stallion with a noble bearing and great, wise dark eyes. Spirit, who was so tired that it was not very difficult to pretend that he was dead, knew he was only dreaming, that there was no herd of wild horses near him, no Alma, his wise maternal grandmother, and surely no Strider, his magnificent sire. The man did not move, never relaxed his hold on the rope, never ceased to watch. The grip of the two-legged tightened on the rope but Spirit would not move his head, as he lay absolutely still. He hoped that by now, Bolder had managed to rescue Rain and Little Creek. Surely, he wouldn't run into other troubles, would he?

Either way, Spirit decided that he was done playing around. It would have been easy to break away from a man who was standing on his own feet, but this man had twitched the halter rope round a thin sapling. For a while Spirit could not think of any way of getting free, and then he thought of the many fights he had with the other stallions and how they used their teeth to bite one another. True, this man was no stallion, but he was nevertheless, a threat. In fact, he represented more danger to him than any stallion or predator on the prairie. Spirit couldn't move his legs, but his teeth were a perfect weapon. In the darkness he could just make out the man's hand holding the rope. As the Eagle's faraway cry sounded again, he leapt up and fastened his canine teeth in that hand. With a sharp yell Johnny let go the rope. Spirit, like a streak of light in the dark and the clouds, had gone. The night received him, the woods hid him, and soon he was high up among the clouds, headed for the two-legged hut, in order to make sure that Bolder had succeeded in rescuing Rain and Little Creek – a phantom stallion, trotting, cantering, holding his head sideways to keep the halter rope away from his hooves.

Ever behind him Spirit could hear the hoof-beats of the man's horse while the man sought him on the ridge, in the gullies, and in the tangled thickets. As Spirit galloped silently through the forest, the man lost all orientation. The stallion's tracks weren't easy to detect in the night and the rain had washed away all of his hoof-prints. Johnny was once again, unsuccessful in his desperate attempt to capture the fabled Mustang. He had come really close, but in the end, had utterly failed. He had no dog to follow his scent, he had left his loyal animal back in the cabin. Only now, Johnny was realizing just how foolish he had been. Not only did he chase the wrong horse at first, but he also left behind Diablo and his dog, who were both essential in this mission. Cursing angrily under his breath, Johnny turned back to find Gus. When the sound of the man's horse was a long way back, Spirit stopped and scraped the halter off on a tree, leaving it in a coil like a snake on the ground.


Great Conquest and Nova had not gone too far from the area. The stallion had led the desolate young mare down a small pond, where she could catch her breath and somehow calm down, while he kept his attention on every detail and all of their surroundings. Presently, the rain had started to fall gently, but it did seem like soon enough, it would pour down from the sky...kind of like Nova's tears. Great Conquest's heart sank at that thought, his honey-colored eyes shifted back on the miserable filly, who was still continuously weeping over her murdered brother.

"I'm so sorry." The stallion nickered to her in comfort, moving to her side and sweetly pulling her in an embrace.

"This is horrible!" Bitterly sobbed the young mare. "First losing Spirit, now my brother...what's next?" She hung her head in sorrow, ready to drop on the ground in dejection.

"Spirit? What do you mean?" The war stallion asked, quite stunned at her statement.

"My mate!" Cried Nova. "He and I got into a heated fight weeks ago and I left him, the fool I am. I lost my love and now I've lost my brother. Oh, this is too much to bear." Tears streamed down her cheeks.

Great Conquest became outraged, everything that the filly said went over his head, except her one word. "Excuse me?! Your mate? What the hell are you talking about? This better be some other Spirit or I'll thrash someone's ass!" He fumed in anger.

"W- what is your problem?" Demanded the agitated Nova, very taken aback at the stallion's unexpected, furious outburst.

"Are you talking about the stallion of the herd of Cimarron?" He threw in flatly.

"What if I am?"

"That abysmal bastard!" Great Conquest exclaimed, overcome with unexplainable wrath and disappointment. All this time, he had naively defended Spirit for nothing. Why had he criticized the poor Rain? The heartbroken mare probably had no other choice but to leave him because the wretch couldn't remain faithful. And to think, she was expecting a foal from him! The grey war stallion felt like a complete idiot for being on Spirit's side for so long. Perhaps, Bolder truly was the better stallion out of them two? What a shame! What a shocking disgrace this was!

"How long have you been mates?" Sternly inquired Great Conquest, causing Nova to snort in displeasure.

"That is none of your concern, you rude lout!"

This tense exchange would've quite easily transformed into an argument had it not been for sudden rushing sounds in the trees. Great Conquest jerked his head, his nostrils dilating, ears perked forward. Instantly, his frowning features brightened up as he whinnied in relief and recognition. "Rain!" Leaping forward, he trotted on to meet the arriving mare, with Nova slowly following after him.

"Oh Rain! You're safe! Are you alright?" He showered her with desperate questions, nuzzling her affectionately. "I was so worried about you. What's this? Are you bleeding?"

"I'm fine." Rasped out the fatigued paint, barely managing to keep herself awake and standing. "I...I have to–" Her voice seemed so fragile.

"We must return to the village. Now!" Great Conquest ordered, letting the pregnant mare lean on his shoulder for support. "I've got you. You're okay."

Nova stared for a second, as she meticulously studied the paint Rain in front of her. So this was the beauty that had won Spirit's love and possessed all his heart. This was the mare over whom Bolder had lost all his senses...this was the mare over whom both Spirit and Bolder almost killed each other. This was the mare that had abandoned the Cimarron herd without a word and most importantly, this was the mare that had become her invisible rival without even trying.

In spite of the negative emotions that surged inside her upon finally encountering the acclaimed Rain, Nova noticed the gravity of the expecting mare's situation. "She's close to labour. We must lead her to safety right away." She spoke up, taking charge of the unforeseen circumstance.

"The Lakota Village!" Insisted Great Conquest. "We have to make it to our homeland."

"I don't think there's that much time." Nova argued, annoyed at the war stallion's bossy attitude.

"No, it's okay. Let's try to go to the village." Rain interjected suddenly. "My foal's not coming just yet. I know it." She panted heavily, balancing herself as she pressed her head against Great Conquest's neck. More than anything, she longed for the comfort of her home.

"I don't know where exactly your homeland is, but to get away from this place, we must go South." Nodded Nova in thoughtful contemplation. "Come, follow me. I know a quick shortcut." She said to the war stallion and commenced to trot downwards. Great Conquest and Rain slowly and carefully trailed after the determined, wild mare.


At early dawn, as the clouds cleared and rain ceased to fall from the endless sky, golden sunlight spilled over a distant hill, teasing the shadows of the high mountains. The coat of the handsome horse rippled, as though the sun itself was paying homage to the heroic stallion, atoning him for his undying fighting spirit. Creeping cautiously in the deep trees, the young Mustang found the lonely, little hut all deserted. Spirit's heart throbbed once his eyes scanned the surrounding area. He walked closer towards the cabin, and stood frozen for a moment. The gate of one of the paddocks was crashed down and inside it, a dark body of a dead horse lay motionless. A frightful frisson went through Spirit's nerves, when he identified that the lifeless horse was none other than Nova's unfortunate brother, Onyx. He stared at the pen for few seconds more, confused as to why the gate was absolutely smashed and destroyed. Who had killed Onyx? Who had crashed the paddock fence? Instantly he snapped his head, uncontrollable terror rising within his chest. Where was Rain?

Another paddock, right across from Onyx's pen, was completely empty. Had Bolder managed to rescue her? No scent was lingering...rain had washed away all the evidence of whatever transpired in the middle of the night. Suddenly, Spirit felt as though a heavy log was dropped on his back. Little Creek?! There, by the gate of the round yard, a young Lakota boy was sprawled unconscious on the ground. Several emotions raced through Spirit's mind as he recognized his friend. Little Creek couldn't be dead! No! This can't be happening! Swiftly, he ran towards his trustworthy companion and lowering his muzzle, gently nudged him.

As soon as his nose touched Little Creek, Spirit sighed in relief. His body was still warm...he was alive! But for how much longer? Spirit glanced over his shoulder in desperation. The two men would be returning to the cabin soon. He had to act quick!

"Come on, my friend. Rise." Spirit nickered pressing his nose against his forehead, trying to shake him out of his dulled senses. "Please, get up." He entreated softly.

Little Creek was a fighter and in a way, reminded Spirit of himself. He couldn't be dead...not like this. He was still young, strong and Rain needed him...not just Rain, but Spirit needed him too.

"Please, please, stand up." The stallion poked him once more, tears filling up in his eyes. He could see that Little Creek was wounded and wouldn't be able to survive if he didn't receive help right away. Spirit backed off for a second, and throwing his head to the sky, neighed a lamentation. "Little Creek, you are a warrior. Get up!"

The Lakota boy stirred, but his eyes were still shut. Spirit nudged him again, breathing softly into his ear, whispering a prayer. "You can do this...rise up, my brother. Come on, please. Rise..."

In that moment, Spirit's hopes were finally answered, the eyes of Little Creek suddenly opened wide and he was met with a golden sunlight and an equally glittering stallion that dazzled his vision in beautiful rays. This image altogether made the young Native American believe that he was indeed in the afterlife. But then, something strange happened. The stallion pushed him with his nose, as though ordering him to stand up. This was no hallucination, this was reality!

"S-spirit? Is that...really...you?" Little Creek gasped in shock.

Without a second thought, the stallion lowered his body to the ground, levelling himself to the collapsed Little Creek, who was slowly but surely, coming back to his senses.

"Quick, get on my back." Anxiously whinnied the stallion, gesturing his head towards Little Creek and positioned his back in front of him. "Climb up."

"My brother..." A faint smile of respect and admiration spread across the Native American's features. "You came for me." His gaze became glossy, overwhelmed with happiness. Grunting and groaning in great effort, Little Creek dragged his stiff body and crawled up on the stallion's back, who immediately helped him up and then, rose on his legs once more, breaking into a swift gallop. Little Creek was unable to stop himself from cheering in excitement, as all the memories of their adventures rushed back to his mind. If this wasn't a miracle, he didn't know what was.

Thus, the two kindred souls thundered across the untamed West, making their way to the Lakota settlement, under the golden rays of the magnificent sun.


By evening, thanks to Nova's quick-witted and sharp sense of direction, Great Conquest and Rain had found their way faster than they had both anticipated, back to the Native American village. Physically, the paint mare seemed to be holding up fine. Strength had returned to her, instinct of survival had kicked in and she was no longer experiencing deep pains around her stomach area. All night, Nova had rapidly led them off to the South, and as soon as the falling rain ceased its spring showers, Great Conquest's confusion dissolved and he singled out an accurate path towards the Lakota camp. Rain was still weak, for she had not eaten anything during their pressing journey. When the trio made it safely to the settlement, they were instantly met by the worried horses as well as humans. Long Knife was especially concerned for Little Creek, once he noticed that both Great Conquest and Rain had returned without him. The humans were anxiously debating on what to do, trying to ask the wise council what appropriate measures to take. They knew quite well that the two white men had snuck into the village, but weren't exactly sure if that had anything to do with Little Creek's disappearance.

Rain was swarmed with numerous questions, as the worried mares of the village formed a defensive circle around her, crowding her with inquiring nickers. Out of all her friends, the gentle, old Aranda was the most relieved to have her best friend's granddaughter safely back home. In many ways, Rain had become her own. The paint mare's head started to hurt with so many inquisitive horses flocking her. All she could think about was how she had abandoned her poor human, leaving him in that dreadful place with those monstrous pale-faces. The sensation of guilt washed over her yet again, as she started condemning herself for Little Creek's fate. It wasn't right to be back home when her human was not here. This place was not a home without him. It felt so strange, so unnatural. How could she be so selfish as to desert her best friend? She should have known better.

Her blue eyes quickly tried to find Great Conquest nearby. If anyone would stop her and get in her way, it would be the overprotective war stallion. Luckily, he was nowhere to be seen. In fact, Great Conquest had become consumed with the thoughts of the wild filly. When he and Rain successfully arrived to the village, the beautiful Mustang mare had vanished from his sight. He didn't even have a chance to say goodbye or to ask her if she needed a place to stay. A lovely looking filly as she, should not be traveling all alone. Although, something told Great Conquest that Nova was more than capable of taking care of herself, and yet he couldn't deny that strange feeling inside his heart. He had to find her.

Because Great Conquest was presently preoccupied with the urgency of searching the disappeared Nova, Rain had time to sneak away from the village and go after Little Creek. She wasn't sure who the wild mare that had led her and Conquest back in the village was. But even a fool could figure out that the war stallion had become quite taken with her. Either way, there wasn't much time to think about such minor things; she had to retrieve her human!

"No, Rain! I forbid it!" Aranda jumped in front of her, refusing to let her go. "It's getting dark, and you're heavily pregnant. You can't risk your life and the life of your unborn foal like that."

"I don't have a choice." The young mare insisted stubbornly. "Aranda, please move out of the way. I have to help him...I shouldn't have abandoned him." Crystal liquid escaped her blue pools. "I'll be fine, I promise."

"What about your foal? You are very close to labour." Aranda spoke to her, stunned at the mare's head-strong determination.

"Little Creek needs me." That's all Rain said and nudging the mare out of her path, she cantered off.

"Stubborn as a mule just like her mother and grandmother." Aranda muttered, shaking her head in disappointment and worry.

Not a minute had gone by, when Great Conquest came trotting towards her, looking as though he was searching for someone.

"Where's Rain? He asked the old mare. He had failed to seek out the wild beauty, but that didn't mean he was going to let his heavily pregnant friend escape from his protective sight.

"Young ones... always so rebellious and head-strong." Aranda remarked with an unhappy, dejected voice. "The poor filly has lost her mind. She's gone back to save Little Creek."

"What?! Is she crazy?!" Roared Great Conquest. "Why did you let her leave?"

Before Aranda could open her mouth and answer, the loud noises of the humans interrupted their train of thought. Long Knife, Great Conquest's owner, was supporting the wounded Little Creek, as he stumbled back to the camp. He was alive! The war stallion didn't know how that had occurred, or who had aided the Lakota brave, but it didn't matter at this point. The tribe encircled the two men, attempting to help the wounded young warrior. Soon enough, the medicine men came forward to inspect Little Creek's injuries and apply the necessary remedies. They quickly took Little Creek into the tepee tent and Great Conquest could see no more.

Foolish Rain! If she had waited for few minutes more, she would've witnessed Little Creek return to the tribe. Without hesitation, the grey war stallion raced to catch up to Rain and bring her back, while Aranda, Red, River and Blaze followed after him in case he required extra assistance.


Rain had only jogged for a minute or two, and she was already growing rather exhausted and breathless. Okay...perhaps, she didn't really think this through? Where was she to go in such a condition? How was she to save Little Creek when she couldn't even help herself? Where to start? Where to begin? She felt so powerless, so useless...Little Creek had always been there for her since the day she was born, how could she forsake him like that? No! Her behaviour had no justification what so ever. She must find him and rescue him somehow...by some means...And Bolder? What had become of the wonderful Bolder? Last time she saw the brave, young stallion, was when the two vicious men jumped on their horses and chased after him. Was he alright? Did he manage to escape?

She halted, pausing to try and catch her breath. "I'm sorry, my sweetheart." She hung her head, her flaxen forelock veiling her face, as her blue gaze settled on her swollen belly. "I'm a terrible mother. I'm so sorry."

Instead of being concerned with her safety and the safety of her unborn foal, Rain was torn between wanting to stay grounded in one place and her desire to make sure that the ones she cared about were alright. She couldn't stop now! She had made her decision on going back for Little Creek, and that's precisely what she would do. Oh, her unborn foal...she prayed and hoped that everything would be okay to her little offspring. Taking a deep inhale and then softly exhaling air from her lungs, Rain resolutely marched forward. Swinging around a blue spruce, that stood upright by the edge of the Lakota territory, the young mare was forced into a sudden standstill when she came face to face with a certain stallion she did not expect to see in that very second. Moreover, she had not even given a single thought to him at all. His fiery, but tender eyes locked with hers, and all Rain could do was remain completely frozen.