anymore.

     The pair galloped, half because they chased away a huge cougar, half because Irish started to shiver. Irish seemed to be in a trance as he galloped but Aleta was eager. She hated just running. She wanted to race! And now that she actually knew the canyon, she bet she could even beat Irish.

With a smirk on her face, Aleta slowed her gallop until she was a good distance behind Irish. As soon as Irish noticed she wasn’t there anymore, he glanced around only to see Aleta fly right past him. 

As Aleta had hoped, Irish chased right after her. Aleta pinned her ears back and forced her legs to move faster. The wind rushed through her mane and made her warm and cold at the same time. She loved it! Irish was still managing to stay close behind her, so Aleta decided to take some detours.

She dodged up and down different paths, never slowing her speed until she rushed down a steep path that led to another small section of the canyon, a bit bigger then Irish’s hideout. But here, the river bent over the rocks, making little streams and a spray of water. 

Wide eyed, Aleta slowed to a walk. She’d never seen anything like it before. And suddenly, she didn’t feel like running anymore.

A few moments later, Irish caught up with her. Aleta gave him a quick glance, then looked back at the water as it fell down from the rocks.

“It’s a water fall... at least, that’s what humans call it”

Aleta didn’t answer at first. She didn’t want to look away.

“You’ve been here before?”

“Of course I have. There’s no place in this canyon I don’t know about”

Aleta finally took her eyes away to look at Irish. He had a strange look on his face. Well Aleta knew the look... but seeing it on Irish’s face was strange. When he walked up alongside her, she knew he wouldn’t care if she rested her head on his shoulder anymore.

     The next two weeks were wonderful to Aleta. There was almost no noticeable difference between the pair except Irish usually waited for her more often and Aleta wasn’t as intimidated whenever he threatened to leave her. She knew he wouldn’t anymore. 

     But near the end of those two weeks, Aleta could feel herself slowing down. She grew frustrated whenever she would try to chase Irish and got tired early and ended up going back to rest at the hideaway. Also at the end of those two weeks, Irish finally figured out what was wrong with Aleta. And what he had done was putting more then one life at stake. Realizing the danger he had put Aleta in, the red stallion knew there was only one option left.

“Aleta”

The pinto mare opened her eyes. Irish was staring down at her. His face was unreadable. Aleta brushed it off and gave him a warm smile as she struggled to pull herself up. She went to nuzzle Irish but the stallion stepped back. Aleta frowned. 

“What’s wrong? Is Flick back? Or a cougar?”

Irish shook his head. “You have ta leave”

Aleta furrowed her brow. “But you’re my-”

“And that’s why ya have ta leave”

“What about helping you catch Flick? He could be back any day!”

“Yer pregnant” 

Aleta blinked, not sure what to say. She was surprised but her heart fluttered. A smile started to spread across her face. 

“How’d you-?”

“Flick bred mares. I know what a pregnant horse looks like. Now ya have ta leave”

“But we’re going to have a foal! Aren’t you happy?!”

“I don’t think ya heard me” Irish said darkly, anger starting to build up in his voice. “I said. Git. Out. Of. My. Canyon”

Aleta backed off a few steps but paused.

“Git otta here!” Irish snapped, lunging at the poor mare. Aleta ran to entrance to the hideaway then turned around, blue eyes now filled with sadness. 

“They already saw us. They’ll catch ya and Flick’ll have no problem torturing ya and the foal too”

Aleta lowered her head and tail and started off. Maybe he was right...

Aleta trudged slowly toward the trail she knew would lead out of the canyon. She would have tried to run away, but she was already exhausted just from walking and a bad night sleep. After a long time of walking, Aleta could see the trail that led out of the canyon. Then she heard the last thing she wanted to hear. Two-legged whistles. 

Gritting her teeth, Aleta could barely keep up a gallop. The trail was in her sight and despite being worn out, she was fast. But the two-legged’s horses were faster. One horse skid to a stop at the base of the trail, blocking her path and making Aleta spin around and run in the other direction. 

She tried to gallop as fast as she could, but the two-leggeds stayed right on her tail. Suddenly, some thin, snakelike thing sailed over her head and around her neck. Then it tightened quickly and Aleta was jerked to a stop. 

To tired to put up a fight, Aleta stood quietly and tried to catch her breath. 

“This her?” One of the two-leggeds asked.

“Yep. She’s in foal too. We should catch him no problem now. Once we’re through with him, we could probably train the foal and mare. Bet it’ll be a fast ‘un too”

Aleta’s jerked her head up. They were talking about Irish! And they were going to use her as bait!

     The two-leggeds led Aleta up to the top of the canyon on one of the most dangerous trails Irish had told Aleta about, then tied her to the rock and left her there. The last thing Aleta heard from the humans as they left was, “If the shot doesn’t get him, the fall will”

Aleta attempted over and over again to pull away but the rope wouldn’t give. She struggled and every once in a while would try to tear the rope with her teeth. In between breaks, she would stare down over the edge of the canyon. If the fall or shot didn’t hurt Irish, he’d definitely drown in the rapidly flowing river. She’d never seen this part of the river herself but the way that Irish had talked about it, it had to be the most dangerous part of the canyon.

“Maybe he won’t come” she said to herself even though she knew that wasn’t true. 

     The sun set and without the protection of Irish’s hideout, it was bitterly cold. The darker it got, the more Aleta shivered and the thirstier she got. Hunger was starting to get at her even though she had already eaten all the small bits of dry grass and bitter shrub in her reach.

“I thought I told ya to git out”

Aleta scanned around her but she couldn’t spot Irish. In the dark, his red coat seemed to be a part of the canyon. 

“Flick’s here!” Aleta explained quickly, trying to talk as fast as she could. “They caught me and tied me up! Get out of here before they catch you too!”

From where ever he was, Irish sighed. “I knew this was gonna happen”

Irish came out from where ever he was, muttering under his breath.

“What are you doing?!” Aleta hissed. 

“Coulda told ya this was gonna happen” he repeated. “This is what happens when ya git a herd ‘r a mare ‘r somethin’ else. Somehow, this is gonna end bad for me because ya were too slow”

In a quick motion, Irish had the rope in his mouth and after some tugging and chewing, the line broke. 

“Now git out. Before they catch ya again”

Aleta didn’t need a second warning and took off at a steady, quiet canter, carefully headed for canyon trails she knew the humans didn’t know about. But before she could get too far, there was a loud commotion behind her. She didn’t turn around until Irish’s shouts were mixed in with the two-legged’s angry yells.

The two-leggeds were trying to trip him so the one holding a gun could shoot, but Irish wouldn’t stop moving. 

“Hold him still so I can get a clean shot!”

Aleta took a few running steps toward the fight, but Irish’s blazing eyes caught her immediately, making her stop.

“GO!”

Aleta nodded worriedly, adrenaline pulsing through her and making her escape easier. When she was far enough away, she climbed to the trail highest up to get a good view of the fight. 

Irish was still struggling and the two-legged in charge, presumably Flick, was still trying to get a good shot at the stallion. Irish reared high, careful to keep the two-leggeds from tripping him. He inched dangerously close to the edge and the two-leggeds had trouble trying to maneuver around to not go over the edge themselves.

In frustration, Flick holstered the gun and grabbed a rope himself. As soon as Flick’s rope sailed over Irish’s head, it seemed as if Irish became possessed. He threw himself against the humans ropes, knocking into a few horses in one lunge and even managing to knock a two-legged of his horse. Flick shouted something but Irish went crazy, twisting the ropes and spooking the other horses into a confused chaos. It seemed that only Flick had a good hold on Irish’s rope. And it seemed that was exactly what Irish wanted. 

Flick attempted to make a desperate grab at his gun and just as he got a handle on it, Irish jumped toward the edge, yanking Flick right out of his horse’s saddle. Flick’s hand was tangled in the ropes and he couldn’t let go. 

Flick aimed the gun at Irish one last time. One loud