Otter Creek not a long time ago,

calling fellow horsies !! ; or anyone that wants to int. with a horse really

an equine stood, alone, by the running waters of the creek. her neck, tilted downwards as her lips tested the waters. silken, ebony tail flicked behind her, low at her hocks. a coyote band trotted in the distance, and lillian looked up, flaring her nostrils ; an admonishment of their approach. their bites were an irritation.

lillian drew further upwards, now. she carried herself with precision as she walked up-stream, towards the mountains. a thin layer of snow blanketed the ground, and small flurries descended from the sky, marking her back an ivory cape. but she trotted along nonetheless, unbothered by the telltale signs of winter. she was no wild horse, but she was not inexperienced when it came to the day-to-day of one.

and so she trotted along. ears pricked upwards, 'yote yips still prevalent. the mare did not enjoy the nips that she had received during nights on the farmstead, and so she would not let those small canid creatures come any closer. she stopped for a moment, stomping at the ground with a single hoof, watching them as their small bodies carried them through the grass. a huff of air through her nostrils. frustration.

but perhaps, if there were two, or some other sort of competitor, they would bugger off.

Moon Runner ran, unbridled, across the great plains.

Her spirit crowed with exhilration. Its young vessel strong and free.

She slept beneath the stars and hunted the dawn, birdcatching. Birdwatching. Birdsinging.

A commotion caught her attention. Yodels, yips, and barks echoed in the empty sky.

Moon Runner’s pale face popped up from the long grass and spied a strong spirit. Its thunderous hooves danced with tooth and fang. Clouds of steam rolled from its open nostrils. Its tail and mane lashed at the wind.

Moon Runner bounded through the grass, amber eyes fixed on the mare's dappled fur. Perhaps, if their spirits ran together, there would be a meal of coyote for this one.

hooves continued to stamp against the grasses as she watched the sable creatures stalk her, but it was the sound of rustling shrubbery that caused her to rear upwards, squealing in a display of dominance. but when the mare spotted the white pelt, the lack of coyote-like features, she calmed, bringing herself back to the ground, walking a few paces back.

tail swished back and forth, irritated at the continuing yips and yowls, though they seemed quietened now. she gave a low, soft neigh ; short in its sound, curious, before she would bring herself a few ways closer to it, breathing in its scent, followed by a snort.

lillian watched the creature with an icy gaze, eyes like glaciers in both colour and stare. she huffed, then, approving of the creature, though raised her head and perked her ears, looking out for the coyotes that continued to circle. another single hoof-stomp.

unsettled.

The beast snorted, winnied, and squealed as it’s single lobed, sharp hooves kicked up clodes of prarie loam. Moon Runner had never seen a grass walker quite like this one. It had the magnifigence of a bison with the agility of an elk, but possesed four times the fight of either creature.

When it backed away, so did Moon Runner. She did not wish redirect the mare’s ire upon herself and become trampeled.

Yet, it settled. Its pointed ears turned and Moon Runner sensed its curious nature….

But the coyote’s harrassment began once again. Yodels echoed from tufts of moving high grass.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend, thought the spirit.

Moon Runner licked her jowels, eyes locked in the direction of the coyotes. She began to stalk them…

Hungry, the spirit said.

If only they could be corralled in her direction, then a successful kill would be all but certain.

consumption of coyotes came curiously to the roan mare. a soft huff left her wide-set nose, watching the canine stalk those of which the equine thought to be its' cousins. both with their sharp snouts and their paws. their tails and their size.

but lillian only followed after the white wolf. attentive, inquisitive as she moved, turning away from the wolves' left. were they to confront the coyotes? to diminish their badgering? oh, the race-runner hoped so. a gust of air left her once more ; a snort.

coyotes continued to move like snakes through the grasses. bolt looked over to a newfound companion. canines knew what canines do. she would allow this one to lead.

nod of her dark head. trusting blink. if only temporarily.