The eerie purple light from the sinking sun made the silhouettes of the trees glimmer.
He wasn't tired. He should be. It was getting to the hour when foals lay tucked and warm between loving parents in sweet sleep. When horses without question return humbly to their master's stable, at a stone throws distance from the fires and chatter of human civilization. Owls were hooing somewhere high, and the crickets and other insects mummed and chirped unhindered by the mightier sounds of larger life forms. As the night ticked on deeper and deeper into the forest he trod, not knowing what else to do when the tendons of sleep refused to pull him into slumber. The humidity of the summer's day now dead, it became much more comfortable, and much more silent. Lonely. Flashes of Mom and Dad, of the warm home he left behind tugged at something he tried to bury alive.
"I'll return, someday" he said, trying to sound hopeful.
"Raleigh Dunstin, you listen to me" His mother began, making the back of his neck prickle. "There are a lot of things out there that you don't understand. Things that, things that we...just...couldn't" The water was welling up in her eyes, perhaps also a bit of fear.
"What your Mother's trying to say is, be careful. We love you son."
"I love you too, Mom. Dad." He said coolly. Though they were standing quite close, the distance between them felt much larger than that. A hint of impatience visible in the squint of his eyes as he smiled a half smile and nuzzled them both quickly before running down the trail that led somehow to his future. To his present.
He never looked back.
----------------
Blinking, bleary-eyed from his memories he noticed he was standing in a large clearing full of neatly arranged rocks. Sombered by his reflections the darkness that once kept him awake now seemed so comforting. With his senses fully adjusted to the chroma of the night he could make out the remnants of human scrawl branding the stones like the tracks of many creatures in the snow. The smell of sod and rust hung about the air, but then a new scent drifted up into the tunnels of his skull. The smell of...gypsies. Hot and strong, like cinnamon or basil but sweeter. Just a whiff of it made his head spin. Suddenly a blurry haze swept over him, like looking through colored glass the grays and blues that seemed to saturate the scenery turned bright as if set ablaze by a dark pink flame. In the instant it touched him, burning his senses with that sweet woody scent, it was gone. Like a ghost. Vanished.
A tingle of fear, and of wonder traveled from his ears to his neck, down to the tip of his tail. All that remained when the smoke had cleared was a trail of hoof prints leading deeper into the forest.
Like a firefly to a distant flame, he followed them into the unknown.
