With the sun high and the wind blowing it's fridged chills all through the grasses the paint stallion Trash ran with all his might against the wind. Heat blew in little puffs of smoke from his nostrils as he pushed his burning muscles harder doing his best to get some speed even against the strong wind. His mane and tail whipped like black and white banners. His white hooves hit the ground hard sounding like the drums from the village. It was that beat that urged him on wanting to hear it louder to combine with the wind blowing in his ears to make the music of the world. His head moved to the beat his hooves made. His song that he ran everyday through the land of Soquili. No set destination and no set time to be there.
