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[Editorial] [Words from the Staff] [Featured
Discipline]
[Featured
Equine]
[Book
Review]
[Glossary]
["Ask
The Trainer"]
["The
Help Desk"]
[Poetry]
[Contests]
[Writing
for the E-Zine]
[Submission Tips & Guidelines] © Equine Photograph
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 Victory stumbled, almost going to her knees as Arwen clung to her mane. Her heart beat a fast rap as she glanced blankly at the log she and her horse had failed to notice. As Victory corrected herself, Arwen hurriedly collected her scattered wits and managed to preserve a veneer of serenity; However, the more she attempted to relax, the more she felt. Howls wailed in the distance. "It's just coyotes. Just coyotes... They don't eat people…" Arwen chanted silently to herself. But the phrases were little comfort and her nerves remained tense. Victory, on the other hand, was oblivious to the sounds that surrounded her. In fact, she almost seemed... eager. The occasional pair of glowing eyes that peeped from the undergrowth made Arwen's spine tingle. Almost sick with fear, she clenched her fists and exhaled slowly in hope of calming herself. The last and final blow came when a forked path stretched before them. Frustration overwhelmed her and tears brimmed in her wide eyes. Desperately, she tried to remember which path to follow, but her efforts were in vain. But without any warning, Sweet Victory abruptly broke into a lope, taking the left path, sprinting across the trail and plunging into the shadows ahead. A sudden shadowy figure bolted onto the path. Victory stopped in mid-stride, almost tossing Arwen off her. She shied and backed with panicky steps, rearing and hauling at the bit nervously. The figure let out a series of barks and whimpers, then melted into the shadows. Gasping, Arwen eventually managed to calm the panting, wild-eyed Victory who was tossing her head vigorously and trembling. Lathered with sweat, she plodded on, now at a walk, now at a gentle lope. Arwen's hands were clammy, too. Twigs clawed at her shoulders as if to snare her in their tangled grip. The moon hovered above them like a hawk, distant and cold. Arwen shivered inside her thick coveralls, feeling deserted. Letting forth a sudden whinny, Victory sprang into a lope. An answering whinny broke the thick silence...a horse appeared, prancing... Dusty - Grandpa's gelding! With a cry of relief, Arwen urged Victory into a gallop. "Grandpa!"
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