06-20-2017, 09:59 PM
Once, they followed the sea of grass.
Spark is the one that actually says hi.
Spear & Spark
Their mother had told them stories of following in the buffalo’s footsteps, and being children, they’d been curious as to what a buffalo was and decided that one day, they’d see these mythical beings for themselves. She had mentioned too, about some kind of magical association with thunder and spirits that made them all the more intrigued. So, as all children do, they grew up a little bit and took to the plains to walk where the buffalo roamed.
Grazing had been rich and plentiful then; not unlike grazing here, though it is less pleasurable now and more necessity than anything else - they eat because they must, because that is how ponies live and breathe and get plump off good green grass. Well, Spear grew thicker with muscle and Spark remained slim and lithe from all the running she did, chasing after Spear and then outrunning him so that he had to try to catch the ends of her tail in his teeth. Each of them thinks of these things as he rests his head on her back and she continues to blow the heads off the dandelions, making idle wishes as she does.
He senses the mare nearing them first; his ears splay outwards then prick attentively as he lifts his head from his sister’s pale back. The mare is like them in color, painted but buckskin where he is bay and Spark is mostly white save for the black bonnet on her head and the black shield on her chest that makes her a medicine hat, or special medicine as their mother told them while fawning over both her foals. Like them, she is blissful and smiling and each of them smiles back; Spear neighs back, inviting her over and closer to them, always thinking there was room for more (probably a herd stallion’s instinct that he rarely indulged).