The Ride of My Life

[syeira]

It was breathtaking. The brisk mountain air, the chirping crickets, and the starry sky. The moon shone, towering above my head, a slice of pearly silver in the vast, endless black sky. The silver prarie grasses rustled and shook beneath my feet, waves of moonlit threads, an ocean of luminescent beauty. A smile graced my cherry red lips, and a snort sounded from a grove of trees that stood not far from where I stood. I was barefoot, wearing a pair of capris and a spaghetti strap shirt, both black. My golden hair tumbled down my shoulders, stretching down to my waistline, and my emerald green eyes that were speckled with amber darted to that place immediately. There he stood, a silver stallion, so wild and free, nothing betrayed that. His pose was regal, proud, and majestic, his long legs and strong frame large, even for a horse. He was obviously mustang, but some part of me said angel when I saw him. I took one step forward, then another. He arched his neck, and pawed the ground with a massive hoof. I took another step. He gave a little crow-hop, then began trotting toward me, his silvery hide rippling from the effortlessness of the supple muscles beneath. His eyes stared me down; a golden amber, entrancing, enchanting me as I continued to him.

He gave a shrill whinny as I reached him. It hurt my ears, but my mind was far from that topic. I smiled bigger. I lifted my pale-skinned hand, and touched his warm, velvet fur. I stroked his long mane, coming down in pearly white tides of silky strands. I marvelled at the touch. It was comforting, his closeness. I had never felt so bonded to a horse in my life; I felt so full, so warm, so complete when I was around him. It felt as if I was missing a part of me whenever I was away. I think he felt the same. Then he moved. Walking a step past me, his side was now in front of me, his back looming before my eyes. He kneeled on his two knees, letting them sink into the soft grasses that were carressed by the breeze. So graceful. In a trance, my hands settled on his spine; one on his shoulders, one near his rump. He glanced back at me, his eyes sure, while mine uncertainly darted to his. He flicked his long ivory tail, telling me to get on with it and stop dawdling. To say in the least; I obeyed.

I was on his back, settled on, my legs automatically curving around his barrel from instinct. I had ridden horses all my life, and my riding skills were not taught by anyone but myself and the horses who I rode. The stallion was up, then. It was swift and fast and agile, and slowly, he began to walk. I felt no bumps, his pace was so sure, and his gait was smoother than anything I'd ever felt on a horse's back before, in my entire life. I grinned in pure delight. My hands, I realized, hadn't even grabbed his mane yet. I carefully took hold of a couple locks of hair, so tenderly not a single would be pulled. I would rather fall off this gigantic, royal beast then harm one inch of his appearance. But it probably wouldn't have mattered if I clung to it as if it were the only rope connecting me to life. His gallop began quickly, but I was so enthralled, and it was so effortless on his part to remain soundless and swift, that I hadn't noticed until a minute into whizzing through the field that went on for what seemed like eternity. Then, his legs stretched. The beauty of it was so amazing, as I leaned forward, my hands braced against his shoulders, as he took off into an all-out run.

It would make a champion race horse envious, how fast and how beautifully and how extravagently nimble that run was. He could have beaten any horse in the entire world if he wanted to. But I knew his true place was here, wild, with his herd, hidden in the Rocky Mountains. And I respected that. I would never let anyone steal him away unless it were his wish. And then something strange happened in my eyes. I knew it had to be false, when I saw them running alongside us. Mustangs, wolves, coyotes, rabbits, raccons, deer, and in the sky; falcons, hawks, and eagles. I gasped. I almost lost my grip on his mane, but he never faltered, and neither did I. His ears pinned, as he went as fast as those slender, long legs could carry him. So flawless was this moment that I forgot myself, I forgot about home, my mother, my sister, my brother, my father, my family, my life; all I knew was the wind hitting my face, the moon against my back, and the horse between my legs.

My gold-speckled emerald eyes shifted into that of a horse's, and then I was running beside the silver stallion, my own legs beneath me, my slate grey hooves pounding the earth softly and surely, my pace steady. I was no longer human, I knew that, for I had a shining pelt of gold, pure, sunlit gold. I radiated in the moonlight, defying the darkness of the night. I let out a shrill neigh, sounding my pleasure and my freedom to the world, and then all of a sudden, life slowed. I was back on the stallion's back, and we were halting. The animals that had run alongside us had vanished, as if into thin air. And we were once more at the grove of trees where we had begun. I felt dizzy and light-headed and giddy. I was so filled with joy, and the stallion looked back at me, and seemed to smile. And somehow, I knew he would do what he did; he reared, pawing the air with his white hooves, as ivory as the moon. I sat there, leaning forward, my hands holding tight to his mane as he announced his happiness to to the heavens, in the form of a bellowing neigh that shook the earth and made my head spin. He came down, and snorted, gave another half rear in excitement, and then kneeled once more; I dismounted. And as soon as he had come, he disappeared into the grove of trees. I thought I saw a retreating silver figure on the rocky slopes above, but when I blinked, it was gone. That had truly been the ride of my life.