She is there, of course, and her company feeds small relief through your veins. You are impulsive, far quicker to act than you are to think, and unfortunately it has landed you in a spot of bother. Your friend “Tem-pe”, is not the only one shadowing you however, and you turn from her with a start – yellow eyes glistening boldly – when another you have not seen before, arrives with haste equal to that which brought you here. Your lungs prepare to burst imploringly, air inhaled and waiting, but the taller arrival speaks quicker, a mumble; a rabble of monotone words that pull your small fluffy ears forward curiously. Suddenly he turns from you, and you follow forward spontaneously with expanding, childish interest – quickly forgetting the reason for your own panic.

Knees lift awkwardly high as your tiny, neat hooves explore the lush, deep-forest grass carefully – like a pup’s first tread on fresh dew – and you peer eagerly wherever he does. You are still breathing heavily; the air you gulp is thick and clammy, and you liken it simple-mindedly to the canopy shining, fluttering before your eyes. Though there is no breeze to stir the leaves, the sun kisses each glossy surface and it creates an illusion that you wholeheartedly believe – the trees around you are dancing, swaying to a tune you think you can hear! For a moment you stand stunned, credulous eyes soaking up the ambience, ears fixed towards the soft sound of nature’s intricate song; but the horse with the golden face-branch breaks your focus.

His long legs swing into action, each hoof thudding to the buoyant rhythm of your heart. You follow obliviously, eagerly, turning your sparkling gaze to Tempe momentarily – though you know she will come along anyway. You are intrigued by this stallion, his coat gleams bronze even as the shadow flickers across it, he is exciting; bold and ambitious! Long gangly black and white legs bound along beneath you until your narrow shoulder swings parallel with his, and you lift your short neck so that it sits as vertically as you can bear above your pinched withers. Eagerly you await the unveiling of your destination, but alas (after only a very short journey – few strides of his), another has descended across your path.

“Da!”

Your voice trills unbridled joy and you slip instantly from the shoulder of your guide. You feel nothing of his paternal influence, only the thrill of recognition and youthful fondness for your father. Your insignificant frame slithers beneath his gaze, the shadow he casts, with wings spread inelegantly (they hold no true feather) and wavering with delight. He stills when you are close and his lips trace down your spine; but you are fidgety, excited, and press like an affectionate kitten against the metal bulge above his breast. He speaks and both words touch your waiting ears – they quiver curiously, swivelling as you try earnestly to understand. “Tem-pe…” you explain confidently – it is the only word you have derived from the trio’s convergence thus far. As your father’s eyes turn away then, you offer a bright smile to your pink-feathered friend and return tardily to her side.