Equus Eboratus
Written for Monika.
One night, in the beginning of spring, as the moon rose up over the fields so brightly that it seemed like the sun had simply turned silver, Epona woke. She carefully pushed the waterfall aside and stepped through the mountain to the fields, feeling the moonlight and smiling as it slithered across the grasses. Her basket was where she had left it last time, half-full of red flowers. She liked red--it was a full colour, when it wasn't too dark or too light. When it was really red, and not something pretending to be red, it was glorious. That was why she liked the fields so entirely. The colours there were all pure; they were all the true colours, completely undiluted. She gathered up her basket and hung it over her arm, ready to go searching for blue flowers to-night.
It wasn't a moment before she felt a soft touch on her arm. A grey horse stood watching her, with huge brown eyes.
"Hello," she whispered.
Another horse appeared, quietly stepping down the hillside to her. It was surprising, really. They were all so large, but they moved silently, and their awkward-looking hooves were soundless. She smiled.
"Good evening." She inclined her head politely, and the horse nibbled on her curly hair.
A third horse trotted through the greenest, tallest field and pulled to a halt before her. He shook his head, and she noticed daisies woven into his mane.
"And good evening to you, as well. How are you?" She put a hand on his nose. "Go find my blue flowers. I can only see yellow ones. Where are my blue flowers?" He turned, and galloped away.
She looked at the other two, with their wide horse eyes and their velvet-soft noses, grinning horsily. "You can look for blue flowers, too, although one of you has eaten half my red. Why aren't you rolling on the ground in pain? You'd deserve it heartily. Go off and look. Tell the others to come. We've only one night with the moon like this, and I need all my flowers. I've got to decorate the whole world by to-morrow." The horses left, silently, casting looks over their shoulders at her. She snorted, and emptied out her basket. The old flowers were already dying.
The third horse returned with a mouthful of blue flowers. With him he brought four other horses, much younger. They twitched their ears and gave little horsey giggles.
"Find my green flowers. Bring me the best green grass. Tell your brothers and sisters to bring me purples and pinks. I need them from bushes and trees and flowers." She spread her arms wide. "I need a hundred. I need a thousand. I need enough for Spring. She's going over a lot of the world this year. Bring them to me." The younger horses trotted away, pushing at one another.
The horses came and went in hundreds, bringing her flowers and grasses and buds, going off again with new instructions. Somehow everything fit in her small wicker basket, as though the bottom was actually a lot further down than three inches. As the moon began to go down, and the sun began to rise, washing away the silver with a wave of gold, the last of the horses left. Epona turned, ready to go, when she felt a soft touch on her arm.
The first horse was standing there, holding between her teeth the biggest bundle of red flowers Epona had ever seen. They were perfect red, full red, filling red, rich red, real red. She slipped them into her basket, and patted the horse on her soft grey nose.
"Thank you."
Then Epona turned away, and went back through the mountain, pushed aside the waterfall, put on her travelling cloak, and brought her basket of flowers to Spring. When she had emptied the piles and piles of colour out on Spring's floor, she put her basket back in the field. She stayed away the rest of year.
Then, one night, in the beginning of spring, as the moon rose up over the fields so brightly that it seemed like the sun had simply turned silver, Epona woke.
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