(Writing contest for horse #3)
As I walk down the icy grass, blanketed by frost, I look up, some of my hair falling in front of my hazel eye. I hear a snort, and I look around, confused. It was repeated, louder, and this time I jumped, whinning back, Hello? Whos there? Then, I see a Paint stallion come out of the mist of the shadows. His brown eyes glitter, of warmness, though I can also see some bravery, and courage. Who are you? He replies, walking around me. I try to get angry, but my heart wasn't set to it as I replied. A mare, Melody to be specific. He nodded, his black mane waving in the faint wind. Luke. What a nice name, for a nice stallion. He was wonderfully structured, strong legs with socks that went up to his knees. He was a black stallion, with a long, wavy mane. Absolutely beautiful. Can I just say you are beautiful? He says to me, and my ears go warm, and a shiver ran down my back as I flicked my tail, putting my head lower. And I knew I had loved him. Absolutely loved him.