The Wild One

It was late spring and The Wild One was leading his herd into the cool valley. Nestled between snowcapped mountains, the valley contained a small stream fed by a nearby spring and was filled with sweet green grass; which would provide all the nourishment his small group of 12 needed for the coming hot summer months. They had left their wintering lands two months earlier, traveling north over rough terrain and through areas where there was little water in order to reach their summer home. The Wild One was all black except for a white stripe reaching from the top of his head to the tip of his nose. He was a handsome stallion, standing 17 hands high, with a flowing mane and tail, and bulging muscles. Although he was growing older, he was still able to fight off young studs that wanted to take away his precious mares; or at least he thought he was.

The herd had been in the valley for three weeks when one afternoon The Wild One sensed an unwelcome presence. Jerking his head up, ears pricked, he expanded his nostrils and sniffed the air. Snorting and stomping the ground with his hoof, he turned his head to the left and then the right. There on a small cliff overlooking the valley stood a young white stallion. The Wild One knew instantly why the young stallion was there, to steal as many mares as he could. Before charging, The Wild One looked this young stallion over. The White did not match his height, being slightly shorter. However, he was well-built and about five years younger. The Wild One watched as The White reared up on his hind legs and bellowed out a whinny. All the mares and yearlings raised their heads and looked in the direction of The White. The Wild One knew it was time to act.

The Wild One took off at a fast run in the direction of the The White, while the The White turned from the cliff's edge to follow the path down into the valley to do battle with his foe and win his prizes. They met near the stream and instantly began rearing, biting and kicking one another. They fought for what seemed like hours, but in reality were only minutes. Both were bruised and bleeding and both were tiring fast.

With both hind hoofs, The White gave one final kick to the side of The Wild One, knocking him sideways to the ground. While The Wild One struggled for breaths of air, he helplessly laid watching as The White started to turn around, to deliver the final blow. As The White reared up, intending to smash The Wild One's head, The Wild One managed to stand on his legs and move just in time. The battle was not over yet.

The two stallions stood some distance apart, panting heavily and eyeing one another. The Wild One was the first to charge, taking The White by surprise. The Wild One reared up, towering over The White with his massive hooves. Coming down hard, he hit The White's neck, making the young stallion stagger backwards. Dazed and amazed by the older horse's strength and agility, The White turned and ran from the valley.

Bloody, bruised and in pain, The Wild One knew he had won the fight. He knew The White would not be back this summer, but what about next year.