Post by garbled on Dec 17, 2011 15:46:19 GMT -5
Kryysi was a hardworking mare, and earned her free time in the fields from endless hours working to teach the children and adults how to ride. The black mare enjoyed the chores immensely and the supervisors found that her students were mostly proficient in a matter of weeks.
She gave her master a friendly nuzzle as he unclipped her halter before breaking into a trot across the rolling hills. She soon was on a easy canter, tail and head held high. She loved these rushing sprints each day. The black mare often met other equines in her daily runs.
She slowed as she realized her hunger eating her way through her stomach. She halted sharply, tossing up moist soil and marveling in the damp, foggy and cold air. Her breath sent a cloud of steam, and Kryysi snatched at it with her teeth playfully. The beloved mare was usually known as a serious horse. Not then.
She reached her neck down to the grasses, her lips roaming over the ground, searching for those green sprightly stems that were now nearly gone for the winter. Snow was nearly upon them, and soon the black mare would be fed on food from the lofts. Kryysi liked the oats and hay that she was fed on during the winter, but found that the wild pasture grasses had something to them. Something that was not present in the dried ones stacked in the attics of the stables.
So for that winter evening she munched away busily.
She gave her master a friendly nuzzle as he unclipped her halter before breaking into a trot across the rolling hills. She soon was on a easy canter, tail and head held high. She loved these rushing sprints each day. The black mare often met other equines in her daily runs.
She slowed as she realized her hunger eating her way through her stomach. She halted sharply, tossing up moist soil and marveling in the damp, foggy and cold air. Her breath sent a cloud of steam, and Kryysi snatched at it with her teeth playfully. The beloved mare was usually known as a serious horse. Not then.
She reached her neck down to the grasses, her lips roaming over the ground, searching for those green sprightly stems that were now nearly gone for the winter. Snow was nearly upon them, and soon the black mare would be fed on food from the lofts. Kryysi liked the oats and hay that she was fed on during the winter, but found that the wild pasture grasses had something to them. Something that was not present in the dried ones stacked in the attics of the stables.
So for that winter evening she munched away busily.