Breaking Through The Unbroken

The barren landscape proved useful for one thing: riding. Miles of that raw, dead looking grass to gallop through, not a soul to bother them. Only the whispering sound of the wind in their ears, and the pounding rhythm of hoof beats. Just the way he liked it. He hadn’t always favoured this. In fact, wasn’t it the lush, green grass that everyone craved? Not him. Not since the fire had wiped out everything he’d once known and loved.

It was March 17. A particularly windy day and that’s all you needed to know when the fire danger was high. One spark could set off the fields, or barns for that matter. As much as you try to be prepared, it never works. There’s always something that’ll throw you off guard, and for them that was the change in wind direction. The eighty year old stable stood no chance. Of course, his Mum and Dad tried to fight it off, but they were too late. He was too late. Trying to round up the cattle was one thing. Trying to round them up while your parents fought against a well-fueled blaze to rescue all the other ten horses was another. He shook his head to rid the thought, instead focusing on his best friend in front of him.

Dust, or Dusty, but he preferred Dust, was a dark brown quarter horse cross. They kept each other company, two lost souls travelling through the forgotten country. It was almost as good as you could hope for, given. Sure, they were often short on food, but they could never go back to civilization. Not now. He was classified as missing. He’d rummaged around for a paper once that said so. Missing suited him just fine. As long as he didn’t have to return to the cold, hard reality. This his parents were lost forever. Without a second thought, he mounted his pony. Although technically, he wasn’t one, he liked to call Dust that. And he grabbed onto a piece of his mane and clicked his tongue, as they tore off further into the unbroken landscape.

[353 words]