Little Goat Mountain Finding my Feet

Mustang let his eyes fall into the middle distance, mind sliding back over old memories with a soft sigh.

My momma’s name was Bluebell. She was the most upstandin’ woman I ever did know. Smart, resourceful, and kind as the winter is long. She taught us everythin’ she knew and more. My siblin’s were Colt and Marea. Colt...Colt got taken from us when he was young, so I don’t remember much’a him. Marea was always in a right snit about thin’s. She wanted to get out and see everythin, she was pushy and loud but she was my sister and I wouldnt’a given her up for the world. He said, voice getting softer the more he spoke, before he shook the melancholy off like it was swamp water.

I hunted but...admittedly not too great at it. Think I got lucky mor’n anything.