Sleepy Fox Hollow felsic

these days, selenia felt the foal's movements with more regularity.

it gave her a sense of hope; in a moment of exhilaration, she tossed out her mane with a bright whinny, welcoming the sunset which glowed just over the hollow's edge.

their herd would stand, she felt, smiling gently to herself as she glanced around @Fancy and silverbirch.

he flies to the east
following the river’s path
as it spills inland. 

horse dung on the wind.
he knows in their great passing
they stir little lives

a flight of feathers
and he lands heavy footed
near one giant beast

a thrust! and a stab!
a mouse in the reeds speared through
then thrown and consumed.

Snorkeling was a skill Fancy had once learned from a mare who had travelled North from what she called the “hot lands.” A place where the earth was sandy, and where green riches grew beneath the river’s surface- high in nutrients compared to the dry desert grasses. It involved exhaling while snatching mouthfuls of grass from beneath the water’s surface, and while it did bother her nostrils to do so, the grass was just what she needed to beat her growing appetite.

Her sides had just faintly begun to swell, as had Selenia’s. No wonder she was more hungry than usual. It made her pleased to know she had conceived- though she did find herself growing irritable with the passing months.

She lifted her head from the water, breathing out with a harsh exhale as she munched on the river grasses she had pulled free from the riverbed. 

The heron that landed near her had not been noticed while she’d been groping about under the water’s surface, and she spooked to see it now, in her clearing vision. She cow-kicked lazily, ears pinned, more peeved that her surprise had cost her a few strands of river grass as she hissed Git! at it.

a heron.

fancy did something selenia would have to practice. she herself had sidestepped the large bird. they needed to eat. but a horse and a mouse were both made of meat. she felt a kinship with the tiny creatures.

ears pinned, the bucksin whickered in approval as fancy made to shoo the feathered dinosaur remnant away from the, idly flicking her tail against rounded flanks.

not nice, fat meat-bag
he scurries from her long kick
on thin and fast legs

he clicks his beak twice
head bobbing and wings unfurled 
just out of their reach

overhead the flies
drone on as small lives slither 
now out of his reach. 

more scolding toned clicks
as he carrionbird flaps
across the river.

Her tail snapped like a whip at her wet flanks as the bird flewoff. With a snort, water droplets were sent in a spray from her nostrils, and a shake of her mane shook free a strand of river grass that was carried some feet downriver before it sank to the bottom again. 

She glanced to Selenia and Silverbirch. The bird was no threat to them, of course, and less of a nuisance than flies- but still, she found it repulsive.

You know their neck, legs and beak weren’t originally that long. She stated. Do you know the story of how herons were created? She asked. Knowledge of the tales of Equus and the Army of 105 was something she shared with her herdmates, as they hadn’t seemed familiar with the tales from their past herds. Nevertheless- there was a chance she had told the story before.

the bird scolded them. selenia whickered at his odd legs and the weird elegance of his wingspan before she glanced back to fancy with a smile.

"no. tell me," she invited, thinking for a moment that her friend was indeed glowing. it was a shame maplesmoke had gone again, and more that winter would arrive and it would be them again.

she glanced at the hollow, waiting for fancy to begin and wondering if this was a good place to weather the coming storms.

this bank is his side;
he stalks the river with clicks
wings held in sharp points

it speaks of herons!
he does not come much closer
but his thin head turns.

‘go on’, his hiss says;
posture stilled and wings brought in
as he rests on one limb.

She flared her nostrils as the bird made a sound that reminded her of a snake. She blinked at it, flicked her ears, and lifted one hind foot, resting the toe of her hoof on a smooth stone beneath the river's surface, shifting her weight onto the other. 

The story begins after the creation of the Sun and the Moon. On the day the Sun was born, the God of each beast came to life, and on the day the Moon was born, their partner was created, so that they might fill the land with their children. After many seasons passed, all Gods had created many children, but they were all very much alike; so it was decided that they would each call all of their children together, and give them gifts; the traits that would make them unique so that they could survive and evolve.

For equines, it was the founding of the Herd of One Hundred and Five. Each breed of horse was created, with a Breedmaster and Breedmistress; same for all other breeds of wolves, wild cats, and birds. She explained. We come from Copperhead and Mayflower, She said, with a note of pride. It always made her soul feel empowered when she spoke their names, and shared their existence with those who had not heard of their lore. 

And like I say, all breeds were given gifts, that make them look alike, and able to survive in different environments, live different lifestyles so that no one species is obliterated by another. Owls were given dark vision and silent feathers so that they would only hunt at night. Wolves were given endurance and strong jaws, but not claws, like cougars. Wild asses are the most stubborn creatures on the planet, and can kick the daylights out of a grizzly bear. She snickered. Can't sing to save their life, though. Anyway, She continued. 

Most animals were satisfied with their gifts, but not all of them. Ravens, for example- they're gifted with intelligence, and an extraordinarily long life- but they'd give their tailfeathers to have the plumage of a pheasant. S'why they collect shiny things. Birds- huh. Birds are envious creatures, She said, casting a glance toward the heron as it stalked the shallows. Given the gift of flight, which most of us only get to dream about- they got that gift and still, it's not enough. And that's where we get to the herons, She said, with a smirk.