I have the makings of many books on my google docs page, some that are masterpieces and others that I feel are the worst things I've ever written. Most of them have 2 to 10 chapters.

This, what I am writing here, is my most current attempt at writing a book. It focuses on a young colt and his adventures with his friend, as they try to find their purpose.

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Please enjoy the following.

PROLOGUE

Phantom pricked his ears. ‘What’s that? Can it really be happening? Already?’ He launched into a gallop, his long brown mane whipping about in the fierce wind, heading for a patch of trees and brush that he knew so well. When he was a few yards away, he heard the sound again. Agitated, Phantom ran faster. Faster than he had ever run before. His muscles rippled as he dashed across the plain. ‘Hurry, hurry, hurry!’ He crashed through the underbrush, skidding to a stop at what he saw. ‘Oh, my gosh. What should I do? I can’t just stand here, what should I do?!’

- -1- -

RUNNING

With flowing tail and flying mane,
Wide nostrils never stretched by pain,
Mouth bloodless to bit or rein,
And feet that iron never shod,
And flanks unscar'd by spur or rod,
A thousand horses - the wild - the free -
Like waves that follow o'er the sea,
Came thickly thundering on.

— Lord Byron

The wind howled, the lightning flashed, the thunder crashed, and the rain came down in sheets. The river rocked and shook, overflowing its banks. The grass rippled and waved, as if an earthquake were coming down from the booming heavens. Bursts of wind tore across the plains, ripping grass from the earth and sending voles, prairie dogs, and all other small animals that were not safely underground, flying into the air.

This wasn’t a hurricane. No, this was just a powerful storm. But if you had never encountered a storm before, not even a small one, and your first experience was a tearing, booming, howling mess, I think you would react just like the colt did. He ran.

Crazed and terrified, he ran. His spindly legs had never gone this far, this fast. However, they carried him for miles, though somehow, he could never get away from this monster that was trying to tear him apart. Gradually, he realized he wasn’t on dry grass or dirt anymore. He was running across dunes of sand, and the storm was far behind him. Dazed, exhausted, and thirsty like never before, the little colt slowed to a canter, then a trot, a walk, and finally stopped altogether. Without even glancing around him, the colt flopped over onto the grainy ground and fell fast into a fitful sleep.

Next thing he knew, he was drowning. But in pink, gooey slime instead of water. And there were penguins surrounding him and chanting. What was it they were chanting? He couldn’t quite make it out. Wait, he could breathe! He wasn’t drowning! And now he was flying! Into a volcano? Then, he woke up.

Sweating and confused, the colt stood on trembling legs, and finally looked around. He was in the middle of a desert. All he could see was sand, sand, and more sand. To the North there was sand. To the East there was sand. To the South and West there was only sand. After checking again that there wasn’t anything but sand, he started off to find a source of water. He walked in the direction he thought was East and soon came upon a cactus. The first one he’d ever seen. He was very confused. It was green and roundish, and smelled delicious. But when he tried to eat it, thorns poked into his mouth. It was all very perplexing and wonderful. You see, this colt was the kind of horse who loved new things, even if they had spiky thorns. But, as he now knew, he did not like thunderstorms.

The brown foal tried one more time to eat the cactus, because he could tell it would taste delicious. He got another thorn in his mouth, and, after painfully removing it, he gave up. He decided to keep going East. Something in his blood was drawing him there, though he knew not why. The little foal took a deep, shaky breath, and set off again.

Dust. Sand. Rock. Unbearable thirst and hunger. Pain. The sun rippling on the horizon. Nothing but blue sky and yellow sand for miles.

At first, on his journey, the colt thought. Of the wonders of the world, of cacti, of storms, anything he could imagine. But after a few hours, his brain slowed down. All he could think of was the pain in his hooves, his scratchy throat, and how hungry he was. Soon, all that was going around in his head was the slim hope that he would find water, and the heat he felt on his entire body.

One evening, as he was about to settle down to sleep with his head on a rock, he smelled something. It took him a few moments to recognize the scent. He had been mindlessly walking in a straight line for so long, smelling nothing but sand, that he could hardly recognize the scent of water. But when he did, his mind lit up, and renewed energy sprang into his legs. The colt followed his nose at a trot, desperate for a drink, if only a tiny sip. Just when he was about to give up and flop over, something crested the horizon. It looked like the top of a tree. He leapt forward, dashing for what he now saw was a palm tree. Trees meant water.

It took only moments for the poor, skinny colt to get to the small oasis. He literally threw himself into the pool, the cool water caressing his dry and hot coat. Fresh water poured down his throat and soothed its aching. He gulped down so much water that he had to stop to breathe before dipping his head back into the pool.

The colt was so busy refreshing his tired body that he didn’t notice the other horse standing across from him at the water’s edge.

- -2- -

QUEST

the filly comes with beautiful power

everyone knows of her existence

because of her beauty

and untamed mind

she is wanted by all men

running from them

as the river flows through

the mountains and valley

the filly’s beauty and love

for the land has kept her

on the wild side

not to be caught in their traps

sought out daily

but not letting anyone

put the reins on her freedom

she wishes not to be owned

but to share life and love

with the rider of her choosing

– ???

The colt froze. He slowly lifted his entire head out of the water and gazed at the stranger, water dripping down his face and off the end of his muzzle.

It was a beautiful blue roan foal, with deep brown eyes. They seemed to be looking into his soul. It had slightly brown legs that looked like they had been coated with thin mud, and its mane and tail were both a darkening brown, nearly black, matching its face and the start of its neck. It had a perfect star in the middle of its forehead, but the right tip stretched away and down its face slightly, making it seem as if a shooting star had fallen from the sky and pasted itself to this foal’s face.

At first, the young colt didn’t know what to do or say. He had never met another horse before, let alone one about his own age. He had been on his own as long as he could remember. He’d never known his parents. His first memory was of the waving branches of a willow tree, waving its hello to him. The young colt had no friends, and the only other animals he had ever seen were squirrels, birds, fish, and the occasional rabbit. He had once glimpsed a deer, bouncing over the undergrowth, and he had thankfully only seen one lion. It had been sleeping in its den peacefully, and he had only noticed it because he had been watching a butterfly, and it had flown past the entrance to the cave.

The only things the colt had ever spoken to were himself and a sparrow he had tried to befriend. That was the first and last time he’d ever engage in conversation with another living thing. Or at least he’d thought so. But now he was standing only a few yards away from another foal, the first he’d ever seen.
The two looked at one another, studying each other silently. Finally, the colt broke the silence.

“Hi… Who are you?”

Silence. The other horse said nothing for so long that the colt thought perhaps he had imagined this horse into existence. He blinked hard, then looked again. It was still there, examining him. The colt was about to stick his head under the water again to test one last time if he had imagined this young horse, but then it spoke.

“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers. And I’ve never seen you before. So I’m not saying anything before you tell me your name and where you’re from.”

The voice was female, so he had at least figured one thing out. The colt thought about how to reply. He could continue in the way he started; being friendly and submissive, or he could try to answer to her bossiness with his own haughty remark. He decided to go with haughtiness. He’d never tried it before, and wanted to impress this strange filly.

“I asked the first question, so you have to answer mine before you can ask anything else,” he said

The colt liked the way his voice sounded. Bossy. Commanding. He stood a little taller.

The filly cocked her head at him, puzzling over what to say. Finally, she said,

“Fine. My name is Quest and I’m two.”

The colt was surprised that she had given in. She had seemed like a hard shell to crack.

“Don’t look so shocked,” said the filly, a small smirk sliding onto her face. “I was just messing with you before.” Her voice quieted and she grew sad. “Nobody’s been there to tell me what to do for a while now…”

The colt suddenly felt some pity for this filly. She seemed care-free on the outside, but something was definitely bothering her.

“Um— Quest, right?” he said, hoping to distract her from her worries.

The filly, Quest, nodded.

“That’s me.”

“So,” the colt said, “You want to know my name and where I’m from, right?” he continued, speaking slowly so as not to fumble his words.

Quest nodded again.

“Well, I don’t really have a name. Nobody’s ever called me anything before, and you’re the first horse I've ever met.”

First, Quest looked surprised, then thoughtful, then amused.

“You couldn't have survived out here all by yourself for that long,” she said, shaking her head slightly, another of her small smirks on her face. “Nobody can do that. I’ve only barely managed, and I’ve only been out here for a few weeks.”

The colt saw the depression coming back onto Quest’s face, so he quickly spoke again.

“No, it’s true! I never knew my parents and I don’t have any relatives or friends. I promise I’m telling the truth.”

To the colt’s relief, Quest’s sadness faded.

“You’re a little rebel, you are!” She said, smiling again. “I believe you. But I honestly didn’t think it was possible to survive all by yourself. You must be pretty tough. And as for having no name… Can I call you ‘friend’?”

The colt was delighted.

“Of course!” He trotted around the pool of water and the two new friends sniffed noses. At that moment, each of the foals could tell that they would be fast friends, no matter what happened.

Love to help, but can't read that language.