Chapter One
Indonea rode long into the night, driven by her quest to find this stranger. His face filled her vision as she rode on, huddled in her cloak to keep warm from the harsh autumn winds. His strong pronounced cheek bones and deep brown eyes keeping her spell bound.
She was entranced by the massive power of the horse beneath her, the sleek strength only a beast such as this could possess. The wind sang sweet tunes as it whistled through her hair. The night grew brisk and dark soon enough, any light from the moon covered by the clouds. Finally she decided to bed down for the evening, and she slowed the horse to a stop. Stroking its soft muzzle she gave the horse a quick kiss before setting up her camp and starting a fire.
There was no need to tether her to a tree; Indonea knew that the animal would not run off. It wasn’t any specific action the horse had made that gave her that knowledge, the knowledge was just there. Just as she knew that somehow her ability to connect with nature had something to do with the stranger. Questions rang out in her head, and she shut herself off from her own curiosity.
Keeping warm from the fire and the heavy woolen cloak her Gran had made her, Indonea slept well. The awareness that she would soon be meeting the stranger from her dreams giving her some comfort in the cold of night.
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The morning light came much too soon, and Indonea’s tired body protested to no end when she rose from her slumber. She stretched her worn muscles before stirring to see if it was still lit. A few glowing embers stared back at her; quickly she smothered them with her boot.
She clicked her tongue loudly and waited a moment. The horse appeared from behind some of the shrubbery and she smiled warmly. “We still need to name you, dear.” She clucked.
The horse crooned at her, nuzzling her with its nose. Indonea thought for a moment while stroking the muzzle of her friend. “What about Sabina?”
The horse snorted. “So, not Sabina. What do you think of Senona?” The horse snorted again and nudged her roughly. Indonea paused in thought, something blooming in her mind. “I know your name, you were called Shasta.” She said proudly.
Shasta nickered quietly. “We must be off, I haven’t much time left.” She said apologetically before gathering her pack. The dew hadn’t yet risen from the ground and the two companions had started off on their journey again.
Hours of riding made the bodice of her dress feel tight and constricting, her full skirt getting in her way more than aiding her. She was raised a proper lady by her Gran, though she had never fit as she should have. As a child she was chopping wood faster than the farm boys could dream. By her twelfth summer she had broken her first mare, though that was not difficult with her special talents.
Her memories of childhood were fond; the grandeur of her Gran’s estate was ideal for an adventurous youth. That was not her place in life though; her curiosity drove her to experience more in life than a simple farm girl ever could. Even as a child she dreamed of striking out on her own, and living a life of adventure and exhilaration. Merely a life of sewing and patchwork was not going to suffice.
With that in mind she rode on, harder and faster into the night. Only stopping to eat and water Shasta. Dreaming each moment of something more, always searching for something more.
