The Rush

A band of wild horses runs through the countryside

Breathing in the warm, summer air made his heart beat quicker. The hot sun pounded on his back. An eager neigh came from his snout. It was almost time, he could feel it. He bent down, drank his fill of water. He was going to need it, if he wanted to last. His legs trembled with avidity. He could feel his muscles contracting and tightening. The wait was becoming tortuous for him. He looked over at a brown and white Pinto, who snorted in reply. The whole group was giddy with anticipation. The Alpha was a few feet away, lifting her head to the clouds. He had studied her movements closely, seeking a sign of confirmation. It was coming. She reared up, whinnying, and sprinted north. The rest followed suit quickly after, and soon the whole group was tearing down the basin. Finally, his natural hunger was being fulfilled. His neck flexed up and down hard, his legs propelled his body forward. Adrenaline pumped wildly through his body. This is what he was born to do. This is what he lived for. This is what he loved.  

The pounding of hoofs on ground, in the group’s entirety, sounded like a thunderous roar rushing over the land. An enormous cloud of dust and dirt rose up from behind them. Ironweed and goldenrod waved back and forth as they raced past. Birds flittered away in haste, hares raced back into their burrows. The wind rushed through his chestnut mane, making the sounds of a cracker on a whip. When they stampeded, he felt as if the whole world was theirs. Nothing could stand in the way of their natural instinct. 

As they descended down a slight hill, he picked up speed. Although not the youngest of the group, he proved himself a force to be reckoned with. Challenging him in racing would prove to be an exhausting mistake for a youthful stallion. All previous instances had lead to the opposite contender heaving and huffing over the watering hole. However, as they ran as a whole, it wasn’t about who was the fastest, who could last the longest, who could go the farthest. It was about running. It was about living out that unexplainable instinct they all felt. That inevitable urge to just tear down the countryside. They all became one. 

Neighs and nickers spread throughout the band, as they took a hard right. He gazed out over the terrain, the land he felt he had conquered. He ran because of the natural unity of the herd. He ran because it made him feel alive. He ran because he was free.