In This Western Land
Book II : Going On

Written by Pawface and Windhowler
Illustrated by Windhowler.
 

Chapter I: Not-so-green Pastures

A place northwest of the little forest Fleewood, where the ground was flat but considerably above sea level, there grazed a group of horses, five in total. They were a small part of a large herd called the Panthera - three mares and two stallions, one of the latter being a very old and grey appaloosa.
     Holding against the crazy wind which blew from north to west, they browsed the stretch of hill pasture quickly. For poor pasture was Fleewood Pasture, and although lavish with grass, it was with dry, yellow grass, and it lacked much else.
     The elderly appaloosa, called Archer, paused to look up at his mate, another well-up-in-years horse with a coat almost the colour of a blueberry, with a rain cloud grey mane, which was slowly turning white with age.
   'What do you think of this one, Breezey?' said the old stallion, gesturing at a patch of weedy and dejected looking plants.
     His mate, Clovebreeze (commonly called by her mate and some of her relations, Breeze or Breezey) raised her head from the ground shrubs she had been picking at and moved along to study the plants her mate had selected.
     'Those are fine, Archer. They're safe to eat,' she said with a loving look at her tired, old and rather senile mate as he slowly consumed the greenery thankfully. Clovebreeze felt so sorry for him; with his now bent and withered neck that he used to hold so high, and those weak legs which were once powerful runners. The bad pasture they now fed on did not help him in any way.   
     The rest of the Panthera Herd (which numbered well over twenty members) were settling in a maple forest, called the Gold Holz, on lower ground where there was foraging a-plenty, but not much good grass; which was what the herd leader, Pantha, and his deputy Lonan, had led Archer, Clovebreeze and the three other Panthera herd members in search of.

     Not much luck so far, reflected Clovebreeze, snuffling at the ground sadly.

Not only did she feel empathy for her Archer, but she feared for him. He was becoming slower and slower every day and could hardly run now. Before, whenever the herd moved to new pasture, Archer used to hang back at times because he couldn't move fast enough. Now he was always left behind. And they had been moving and moving for several weeks now . . . it was nearly two whole months since they had left their old home by the Cimarron river - and left the company of the Cimarron Herd, ruled by Pantha's father Spirit.
     Clovebreeze heaved a heavy horse-sigh. There was also to be aware of the pair of cougars that seemed to be following the herd, at a distance. Clove had a sickening thought of the big cats devouring Archer. At least another herd - the Ninovan, led by Lucius the black bay stallion and his mate Discovery - had eventually joined the Panthera on their search for better lands, making things feel a bit safer. The more horses, the better.
     She quickly closed the overflowing box of worries in her mind and smiled again at Archer.
     'Would you like a drink now, dear?' asked Clovebreeze, standing next to his withering body.
   'Yes, please, Breeze,' nodded Archer, leaning against her side to stable himself as she led him towards the stream, nearly large enough to be a river.
     They moved further, quite a way, from their three companions, coming across the stream (called Dugg Creek) suddenly, because it could not be seen except very up close, because of the long grass which grew on its banks.
     Clovebreeze stared at the water critically; it was low, and Archer would have trouble reaching it. But before she could voice her concerns, her mate had lifted each thin front leg in turn, and slowly eased them into the deep ditch. He now stood oddly, his front down, his hindquarters up on the bank. His splayed back legs buckled a little.
     'Will you get out at all?' asked Clovebreeze.

     'Sorry?' 

     'Oh, I'm worried you won't get out, Archer!'

     Archer did not reply. He was quivering, shaking on his tired back legs which were under strain in such an awkward stance.

     'Archer - '

     Suddenly, forwards went Archer as his back legs gave way and his fore hooves slipped on the muddy river bottom. He stumbled over onto his face, sagging like a rag doll into the cold water.
     Clovebreeze gave a sharp neigh of anguish. In a second she was poised to leap in after her mate to save him - when the immediate second after, there came a fast but steady beat of hooves from afar.
     The sound grew louder, came closer, and two stallions came into view, dropping from a canter to trot over the grass towards the stream.

     While the younger one dallied behind, the older of the two approaching stallions - a stocky, buckskin-and-white tovero with a cut in his left ear - reached the stream first and made a tremendous leap. He landed fairly lightly next to Archer, who lay struggling feebly in the two-foot deep water, snorting water from his nostrils and trying to keep them from being flooded.
     The Tovero quickly snatched the crest of Archer's mane neck behind his wide-eyed head. He gripped the old horse tight and hauled him up. When Archer was half-standing, he was nudged here and there by the Tovero to straighten him.

     'Catch your breath,' said the Tovero, cheerfully. 'You'll be out in a moment.'

     Archer coughed, attempting to thank his rescuer. But the Tovero wrinkled his dark muzzle and snorted.

     'Don't speak now. Lucius will help you now.' And he nodded to somebody on the bank.

     Archer felt strong teeth suddenly take hold of his neck, and he was pulled to one side, upwards. He looked up. There was a young black-bay stallion on the grass above his head, grasping his neck. He whinnied in greeting through a mouthful of mane. Archer neighed a reply in a low tone.
     With the Tovero pushing from behind, leaning a broad chest against Archer's hind-quarters and the Black-bay pulling, the poor old horse was freed from the ditch, and he sank instantly onto the grass, utterly exhausted.

     'Thank you, Pantha!' he gasped after a while, as Clovebreeze nuzzled him all over. 'And thank you, Lucius. I had more of a drink than I wanted, really.'
     'It was nothing, Archer,' said Pantha the Tovero, bouncing from the stream and flicking water from his tail. 'Will you be alright?'
     'I'll be alright, son,' nodded Archer, half-laughingly. Archer tended to call nearly everyone younger than himself "son" or "daughter". 'I just need a moment's rest.'
     'If you say so,' Pantha smiled back. 'I'll go and bring the others over . . . care to come, Lucius?'
     'Of course.' Lucius fell in beside the Panthera Herd leader. 'But at a walk, mind.' He chuckled. 'That was a mad gallop out of the valley we made, Pantha.'

     'A bit reckless, I'll admit,' Pantha the Tovero shook his dark brown mane, as they approached the three other Panthera horses, who had all stopped grazing, obviously because of the commotion made during Archer's little adventure. Pantha neighed to them, beckoning. As they returned his call with whinnies and snorts, and slowly made towards their leader, Pantha stared back at the Fleewood.
     'I'd forgotten about danger for a few minutes,' he said. 'But the run was enjoyable - although I wonder what set Lonan off on it in the first place. Serious, do you think?'
     Before Lucius could reply, there came on the air a long, messy neigh from upstream, and following the waterway, at a steady pace, a blood bay stallion with socks and a blaze walked. He nodded to Archer and Clovebreeze as he passed them, and made a funny grimace upon reaching Pantha and Lucius, snorting breaths of air, and grinding his teeth. This gesture (to most horses who did not know Lonan, Second-in-Command of the Panthera Herd, well enough) would usually be taken as a rather aggressive one. But Pantha just waited, smiling in amusement, expecting Lonan to speak.
     'How's the herd?' said Lonan in due time, after taking a few deep breaths.
     'Fine, Lonan,' Pantha nodded. 'Archer had a little accident, but he's none the worse for it. A bit shaken and tired though . . . Everyone fine otherwise.'
     'Good.' Lonan nodded once, twice, jerkily.
     'You have something on your mind, Lonan,' remarked Lucius. He was getting to know some of the Panthera horses pretty well, although they had not been acquainted for much over a year or so. Lonan was fairly easy to read, however.
      Lonan twisted his lower jaw to one side thoughtfully. 'Yes, now, well . . . You may think I'm going mad . . . '
     Pantha smiled at his Deputy's words. No horse