It had been a long few months for the dappled stallion. The rains of spring had, quite literally, washed his herd from the face of the earth. He did not know who amongst them lived and who perished under the crushing avalanche of earth. The stallion let out a small huff as he walked, stepping carefully over fallen logs and twisted branches. He did not spend many days searching for his herd for the simple reason of safety. The mountain was unstable and angry. He had to do something.

So he made the decision to follow the river that had once been so integral to his herd’s way of life. He would follow the river until he found something for he had no doubt that this river represented life in some way. And it was time for him to find his.

As he walked, he was careful not to jostle his head around too much. For Calder had picked up passengers during his descent. Two of the otters that had lived in close association with what had once been his family. It seemed that they had lost many of their own as well – swept away by the raging current. The creatures clung to the safety of his antlers, and he carried them without question or thought. He remained close to the riverbank and never allowed himself to stray far enough where he would be out of earshot of the river. The sound of the water rushing over the rocks was comforting to the strange trio of creatures. They walked for countless miles, following the path that the river carved through the landscape. But they soon reached the point where the river began to break apart – feeding into smaller streams.

It was at one of these junctions that Calder bid farewell to his friends, the otters, for they encountered others of their kind on a warm afternoon. The stallion lowered his head to the level of the water and allowed them to slip from his antlers back into the comfort of the stream. He offered them a little bow before continuing on his journey – hoping that they found a new start with their kind as he continued to search for his own.

He was truly alone now.

Soon the stream that he had been so dutifully following for months began to narrow to a mere trickle. Before long, there was nothing but a dry stream bed – parched from the stifling heat of Tallsun. Calder was not a creature built for such temperatures. He spent the heat of the day moving from shadow to shadow and traveled as far as he could at dawn and dusk. Eventually, he made the decision to abandon the dry stream bed and continued west – the direction the river would have followed.

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It was many miles and many days before life again stirred around him. The trees grew taller, thicker, and healthier. There was some sense of moisture in the air. And somewhere Calder could both hear and smell water. Upon finding the small stream, the stallion did not hesitate before stepping into the cooling waters. The water only reached his knees but seemed to breathe new life into the stallion. After a long drink he raised his head once more, looking out upon this strange land, and wondered what else he had stumbled upon.

Calder

hold back the river so i can stop a minute and be by your side