General

Klivia held on tight to the rains, pulling back on the coarse rope with all her might, her recent attempt at horse training had gone wrong; once again. Klivia stared at the feisty, white mare as she struggled against the bridle. Her nostrils were flared and her tail was still held high like a proud flag streaming in the wind. Her coat glistened with sweat and her Arabian neck curved in a stubborn arch. As Klivia fought with her horse she began to realize something. Maybe her horse was never meant to be “broke”. She seemed to be one with the wild. Maybe she was meant to run and buck to kick and gallop. Perhaps the Arabian could not go against the call within her, the call that she was born with. Maybe she could not deny the powerful feeling of galloping into the wind or the free feeling of kicking her legs high at the swirling sky. Klivia released a shaky breath and slowly reached her hand up to the buckle on the side of the bridle. She quickly undid it before she could change her mind, and let the bridle fall to the ground. Klivia then grasped the Arabian’s mane with both hands and closed her eyes tightly as she leaned forward.
Like a leaf being set free to ride the wind the mare burst forward in a rush of adrenaline. Klivia could hear her horse’s powerful legs thumping in rhythm and feel their excitement mingle as they flew across the surface of the world. Klivia slowly pried her eyelids open. What met her eyes was like nothing she had ever imagined before. The world rolled out before her like a giant scroll. The grass parted before her as they raced over hills and valleys towards where the sun’s fire licked the cloudy sky. Red, pink, blue, purple, orange, green, and yellow swirled around Klivia in vivid color. A tear traveled down Klivia’s cheek, her Arabian was not meant to be broke; her home was here. Here where the world unraveled and the wind sung. Here where the skies roared and the sun caught fire. Here in the wild.

By twilightlover77, April 2, 2017.