"And I am sure that you will become a great crafter, you seem like you aren't one to quit until you've gotten what you set out for." I smile at Kahlua. In a way I envy her, she seems so set in her direction. Confident that she knows exactly what she wishes to achieve. I am not even sure about what I wish for the next day to bring.

"You're my first friend too..." I'm shocked by Kahlua's words; beautiful,outgoing, and sweet she seems like a horse that everyone would be a friend to.

"Well, I guess that we are both making progress" and I really am, in speaking with Kahlua it is my first time really interacting with another besides Torolf. I feel different. Comfortable in my own skin.


I stand looking over the land that could possibly turn out to be my new home and it is as if I can touch my future. I can see myself racing across the land kicking up my heels, peacefully laying in the long swaying grass of warmer months, huddling in the warmth of friends during the cold bite of winter.

"I hope that they get here soon. Once they do I certainly plan on putting my best foot forward. Now, which one do you think looks the best?" I laugh and make a show of lowering my head to evaluate each hoof. My feathers are muddy and wet from snow that melted on them. I can only imagine the always meticulously clean Kahlua's thoughts about their condition and set to cleaning myself up.

With my future taking such a sudden turn the past is also creeping up behind me. As I groom my coat I remember others who have done the same.

My mother used to fuss over me, I was her first foal and she kept loving eyes focused on what seemed like my every move. I was a spirited filly, always letting my curiousity lead my hooves. The first night I heard an owl I carefully slipped from my sleeping mother's side to investigate the intriguing sound. I wandered through the field and to the edge of the wood, I took one quick look over my shoulder and set to finding the source of the strange noise. When I did find it, and I was entranced by the big bird. I stood and listened to a few of its sounds before lifting my head towards the owl's perch and letting out a squeal of a whinny. It startled the owl who flew from his perch knocking my ear with one of his wings which in turn spooked me and sent me dashing back towards the safe warmth of my mother's side. She had been woken by my whinny and was already running towards me when I came crashing from the woods. With her ears laid back she nipped my flank and directed me back home. Once we got back she was once again my gentle mother, softly pulling the briars from my coat warning me of the dangers of wandering off alone.

My little boy had spent countless hours grooming my mother and I. When other children came by asking to play the shy boy would go quiet and peek out from behind our heavy bodies. But once the other children had gone he would become animated making broad arm movements with words tumbling from his mouth. Mostly he spoke of how he longed to be with the other kids, but he was terrified of their rejection. Many tears were shed on my neck from the disheartened child, frustrated with himself.

The memories I have of Torolf grooming me are different from the others. The feelings I got from his grooming were softer and warmer. So much more tender. He didn't have the frustration of the boy nor the loving chiding of my mother. He just simply had a soft loving touch. Sometimes we stood in silence, while other times one of us quietly listened as another spoke freely opening our hearts up to each other. I feel tears welling up at the thought of never feeling his touch again.

I miss them all, I miss what I could have been with each of them. Looking at this new strange land around me I wonder if anyone in it will touch my life as the three have.

I feel myself caught in a staggering dance of emotions, my thoughts of a bright future twist and tangle with the dull ache of the past.