The wind tumbled through her mane, sending tendrils of hair dancing across her neck. Little plaits swung from side to side, weightless in the breeze. Timbira raised her face into the zephyr, tasting its sweet cool on her tongue. It brought scents to her nose, of cloying flowers and sharp, crushed grass and fragrant dew-drops. She savoured each breath, for each intake brought a new sensation as dozens of smells flooded her senses. It was a beautiful day, and the perfect time to feel alive.
The mare took a step forwards, feeling unusually bold. From what she could see, there were no souls in sight. She felt herself relax, tensions unwinding from her muscles like ribbons in the wind. With a playful snort, she let out a buck, before cantering off across the thick grass. Her hooves sunk through the soft blades, the ground thudding with her weight. She soared across the earth, with not a worry in her mind.
She felt at one with nature. Wild and free and perfect. The wind howled past her as she charged, full speed across the meadow. Pure contentment filled her body as she closed her eyes, threw back her neck and let out a loud laugh.
