Taralyn:
Tara walked slowly to the largest of the pastures, climbing up onto one of the rails, hanging her hands over, and whistling as loud as she could, pinching her lips together to form a shrill sound. It was the sound she performed to call her horses. As she figured, within a few minutes, she saw three tall shapes crest over the farthest hill in the pasture. One Golden, one painted, and the other dark chocolate, but shining. She grinned wide, running a small hand through her light brown hair, her blue eyes sparking in anticipation. In another few minutes, her horses made it to the fence, and they all greeted her with nickers and whinnies. She put her hand in her pocket, retrieving 3 apples, letting them drop to the ground, so they could munch on them. As they ate, she looked around, wondering when others would start to arrive.
