The first thing I feel is Mama’s tongue licking me dry. After she finishes, I lay there for a while, taking in my surroundings. A brown stall with a roof containing me. Soft bedding under me. Sweet-smelling hay for Mama. Clear, cold water in a bucket. Best of all, my dark bay Mama!
Something else catches my attention. A tiny black thing, crawling on my coat. Two odd transparent things, like the water in the bucket, stick out of its back. The critter is tickling me, so I twitch my skin, and then the thing flies away.
Noticing my long, spindly legs splayed out underneath me, I try to stand, like Mama. I am wobbly at first, but soon I’m standing like a pro. Taking my first steps, I teeter to Mama’s side, nosing my muzzle in between her hind legs to suckle some milk.
“I will call you Willow, darling daughter,” Mama neighs softly at me.
I lay down and nap. When I wake up, I drink more milk and nap some more. Awake again, I wander to the shortest wall, where I can hear a filly eating. Poking my head over the half wall, I can see that she looks like me and Mama, with our dark bay coats. But unlike us, she has white stockings on all four legs and a coconut-colored star on her forehead. When she notices me watching her, she comes over.
“Hi, I’m Breeze! Who are you?” she says enthusiastically.
“I’m Willow!” I tell her. “Why do you look different than us?”
“The first night of my life, a star fell onto my forehead. Then I ran through a cluster of white stars and they all stayed on me forever,” she answers.
“WOW!” I exclaim. I like my wise new friend.
A couple of months later, a girl puts a soft pink halter on my head while offering me a pointy orange thing.
“That’s a carrot!” Breeze says. I take the treat from the girl’s outstretched hand. It’s crunchy and juicy and I LOVE IT!
“You are wearing a halter, Willow,” Breeze neighs.
The people lead us outside to some fences. Once we are in the field, all our halters are removed. Breeze and I run like the wind over the tall green grass and under the bright blue sky. When the humans leave, Breeze stops under a giant green tree. I join her. It’s nice and cool under the big branches reaching to the clouds.
“You look like you have something on your mind,” Breeze tells me.
“I do!” I say. “I want to EAT ALL THE CARROTS EVER!” Just thinking about those orange, leafy, and yummy treats makes my mouth water.
“Let’s go!” she exclaims.
“Where?” I ask her.
“We will start our carrot stealing in the feed room!” whinnies Breeze.
“Yay, yay, yay!” I am so excited. While the mares doze, we creep quietly over to the gate. Breeze fiddles with the latch for a moment, and then the gate swings open.
“How’d you do that?” I ask her.
“Magic,” she says mischievously. I am amazed that Breeze has magical powers.
We trot toward the open barn doors. Once inside, our hooves clomp like elephant feet on the concrete floor. Breeze shows me to the feed room, where I can smell CARROTS!
In the dimly lit area, I see a clear bag full of the yummiest food ever—carrots, obviously. We race to the bag, wanting treats. Ripping the bag open, I grab a mouthful of crunchy orangeness. For a bit, I am completely lost in eating.
Then I hear voices. Breeze does too, because she whips her head up, ears twitching. Before I know it, a big man puts a halter on my head and leads me to my stall. Exhausted, I flop down on the bedding and dream about carrots.
In the time of falling leaves, I trot happily to the pasture, Breeze behind me. My ears are pricked toward the field, and I see how the dandelion-yellow sunlight turns everything golden. Hearing the munching of the other horses, I lengthen my stride. I want to be able to eat clover before it’s all gone.
Our people put us inside and remove our halters. We gallop happily around before slowing down. There is a weird chirping noise, kind of like a bird.
“Do you hear that?” I neigh wonderingly to Breeze.
“Yes!” she answers. “It’s coming from the ground!”
Under the soft sunshine, we stick our muzzles to the warm grass. There is a tiny green creature whose wings rub together, making the noise. It chirps once more, then hops away. Boing!
On a frigid day, Breeze and I walk out of the barn with the people. The sight I see makes me wonder if my eyes are broken. There is glittering white stuff everywhere! It smells like water, only colder.
“Do you like the snow, Willow? I do! When the wind gets tired of blowing, it becomes snow and falls to the ground,” neighs Breeze.
The snow covers the big trees living in our pasture. Once we’re free, we run around the base of the giant trunks, looking up at the snow lying on the strong branches.
The frozen water perches on the branches, glimmering in the sun. In the frosty air, the daisy-colored snow is very beautiful. As the branches blow in the wind, the pretty snow falls off. Flump!
One warm spring morning, when the lush green grass is covered in drops of dew, I notice a yellow thing in our pasture.
“What is that?” I ask anyone who will listen.
“It’s a tiny golden sun,” Breeze says, coming up to me. “I think our owners call them daffodils. They are pieces of the sun that fall off!”
It starts to drizzle. Cool raindrops fall out of the clouds and scatter across the ground. The rain smells sweet, like fresh hay, only cleaner. The birds are chirping their early morning song in the trees. The sun comes out, spreading soft light over the land. Then, through the pitter-pattering rain, I see a wide arch of colors.
“Wow! What is that?” I exclaim.
“That is called a rainbow. It is made whenever the cloud horses argue about what color to make the sky. They all end up using their paint brushes, and it ends up like this.”
We stand there in the peaceful silence and drizzling rain listening to the birds. It is a calm and happy time.
Thank you to all who participated in Young Rider magazine’s first-ever Fiction Contest, held in collaboration with Trafalgar Square Books. Congratulations to Aura!
