The group rode through the cold and quiet forest whilst the sun gradually set at the west, casting long shadows across them. Wind Whistler skittered nervously beneath Angel as they crossed over rabbit burrows and under bird nests. He threw back his head, and snorted loudly, causing several crows to flee from their hiding place inside a large fir. Samson glared back at the pair and Angel shrank inside of herself.
As they moved, Angel could see the candles in the castle lighting up the rooms and glowing warmly. She wished she could find the guts to spin Whistler around and gallop him off back home, but with Dancer and Coronel behind her and Samson ahead, she could hardly escape. She began to wonder if she was being kidnapped and began to grin. Kidnapping was an adventure she hadn't tried yet, but she had read about it and it seemed incredibly exciting.
"Oh! Kidnapping!" she squealed joyfully.
"We're not kidnapping you," Dancer reassured her, not understanding that she would have loved to be kidnapped.
"You're not?" Angel sighed sadly. "I guess I was getting a bit hyper there, then."
"You wanted to be kidnapped?" Coronel laughed. "Hey Samson, pass us a rope!"
Samson threw two ropes over his shoulder without looking and Coronel caught them, passing one to Dancer.
"Ar!" Coronel kicked his pony on so he was circling Whistler whilst the gelding was walking. "We've got you, haven't we, Darter?"
"Aye, we do, Cage!" Dancer replied. They were both using different names that were more 'frightening'.
"Ah-ha!" Coronel threw his lasso and Angel giggled as it held around her tightly. The grey pony walked on in front of Whistler and then moved over.
"Yeah!" Dancer whooped as he threw a rope around Whistler's neck and fell into step on the other side of Whistler. "We've got you now, Princess!"
"Please!" Angel teased, waving a hand. "I am not 'Princess' I am Angel!"
"Whatever," Coronel snorted and then took out a knife and pressed it to her side. "Whether you are a princess or a girl called Angel, you are the daughter of King Char, are you not?"
"Yes," Angel replied, sneaking her hand out slowly. "Inside the castle I am Princess Angelica riding her handsome gelding Wind Whistler," Whistler lifted his head proudly, "and outside the castle I am Angel riding her black pony Whistler. See the difference?"
"Sure we do, Princess!" Coronel teased. Suddenly, Angel's hand caught the blade and spun it round so it pressed to Coronel's side.
"Ah-ha!" Angel cried.
"Stop this!" Samson roared. He was in front of them, his horse's box head centimetres from Whistler's curved mustang head. "I will not tolerate this ridiculousness."
Puh, talk about bossy, a voice muttered. 'Do not frighten Prince Wind Whistler, if you do he may not come easily'! I'm not scared; we're only messing around! Aren't we guys?
"Did you guys hear that?" Angel gasped.
What's she talking about? there was a pause. Me? She can hear me? Boy!
"Who's saying that?" Angel demanded.
The greys back away nervously and Whistler's head whipped round anxiously. Samson backed his chestnut up and Angel frowned. "What's going on?" she asked nervously.
"She can hear her horse," Dancer murmured. "She's the hole. She's the one no one can predict."
"Who?" Angel spun Whistler round to face the greys. "Who is?"
Dancer and Coronel flicked their eyes to Samson and then back to Angel. "Y-y-you are… You're like Samson." Dancer stammered quietly.
Whistler understood and pivoted to face the chestnut. She's like Samson? What do they mean, sir?
"What do they mean, Samson?" Angel breathed.
Samson lifted his chin and turned his chestnut without answering. The pair cantered on and Whistler darted after them, plunging forward and giving chase whilst the greys stuck to his flanks.
"Where are we going?" Angel called.
"The herd," Coronel replied quietly.
"The herd?" Angel's eyebrows furrowed.
She didn't receive any more answers and so concentrated on her riding, trying to improve it. Angel sat up straight and didn't sink deeply into her seat. She tightened the reins and pushed down her heels. Her hair blew out behind her and her blue eyes glowed. Her blood-red lips were in a tight line and her shoulders were straight but relaxed.
Here we go again. A boring hack just like mother and daddy used to take me on! she thought glumly.
Whistler flicked his ears to the left and then to the right. He had learnt that the grey with the wall-eye was called Sky and the grey with the golden eyes was called Rabbit. The chestnut refused to talk, only to snorting or sending an angry emotion to the others when they played around like the humans. Sky was very gentle despite his heavy build, and Rabbit was incredibly cheerful and open.
Where are we going? Whistler asked, hating that the chestnut could hear them but they couldn't hear him.
We're going to the Spiritual Herd! Rabbit cheered. Our leader is Hurricane and he has never found a rider! The humans live with us and we chose out humans when we felt the click! Hurricane doubts he'll ever feel it because no one feels so relaxed but powerful as him! I chose Dancer instantly! Every one of us were standing in a compact group and then this boy, who's eleven years of age officially and mature enough to complete the choosing ceremony, steps forward. He's got a mop and dark blonde hair and reminds me of my dad who was caught by the horsemen but a month before and sold to the king! He had pinched cheeks and green eyes and instantly I trusted him. Everyone else was squealing and pinning their ears at him, but I strode forward and sniffed him and let him get on my back. We completed the lap around our pasture to seal the deal and I've been with him ever since!
Puh! Yeah right, Sky snorted. Last winter you ran off because you saw a rabbit and wondered if you could out run it!
It was a hare! Rabbit's voice was slightly faded because he was directing it at Sky but then it became loud again when he looked at Whistler. I swear! And he was really fast! You believe me, don't you Windy?
I don't know, Whistler murmured. The two greys sent two images – one of a tall, shaggy brown hare and the other of a cute, fluffy creamy-brown rabbit. The hare was slightly off scale and the rabbit was clearer, more like a memory. Maybe you imaged the hare. Maybe it was a…really fast rabbit?
See! Told you! Sky cried. It wasn't a hare!
Yeah, but it was really fast! Rabbit protested. And Windy said maybe it was a really fast rabbit, so we were both wrong!
Hey! Sky gasped. I never said the rabbit wasn't fast! I just said it was a rabbit!
But you were thinking that it wasn't fast! Rabbit insisted. I could sense it! And all because I out ran it within a second! It stayed on my tail though!
Stop talking! the voice was unfamiliar and boomed with the strength of a leader. However, it seemed weaker somehow, and so it was more likely the second in command – the beta. Sky and Rabbit both looked at the chestnut and Whistler copied. The chestnut was walking on as if nothing had happened but it was obvious that he had spoken.
The greys said no more and so Whistler decided he should also be quiet. He chomped at the bit thoughtfully until he felt Angel sagging. He lifted his head and Angel murmured her thanks as she pressed her cheek to his neck, her fingers tangled in his mane, and fell asleep.
Boy is she cute when she sleeps, Rabbit whispered. But none of the others replied, because they were listening to Angel's steady breathing as she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
After a moment, Whistler shifted his weight so she wouldn't fall. Sweet dreams, Angel, he murmured.