The big dark bay stallion made another tentative step towards the figure on the ground. Yes, his first instinct had been right. The two-legs lying on the riverbank was indeed the same who had spoken soothingly to him while he still had been in captivity. Indecision made the stallion stop and again he took a deep breath to test what else he could smell. Getting closer might mean he would be captured again, but he was curious, and he felt drawn to the two-legs on the ground.

Like the first time they had met he tasted not only the sweet scents of his homeland, but also other odours that told stories about trees, fens and mountains. It was a rich and promising aroma for the stallion who never had forgotten the first years of his live when he had been free and wild. But this time the two-legs also smelled of the river – and more disturbingly he also had the odour of darkness on him. It was not so much the blood that was frightening the dark bay, it was the very faint but still to sensitive horse noses perceptible scent of the big brown hairy four-legs who easily could kill a horse if they wanted to. Had this two-legs dared fight with one?

It might be, for the stallion could feel that the two-legs lying in front of him was a king among his kind, like he himself was among the horses, and probably even more so. Maybe he sometimes would be even as kingly as the ancient two-legs who had come with the greatest horse the dark bay stallion had ever encountered. When the two of them had left in a race they had been a sight to behold, both in brilliant white, without tack, just trust and deep friendship binding them together. This memory was in fact what kept the big dark bay now near the river and this special two-legs. Over time he had learned to respect and even trust his former rider, but even if their bond had been a strong one it had not even come close to what the white stallion and his mysterious white rider had shared.

The dark bay remembered the waves of emotions the white stallion had shared with the other horses and him on his short visit. He had expressed things about light and darkness, about danger and salvation far beyond the understanding of all other horses, but still, the dark bay had felt the darkness that had been threatening his home growing for a long time now himself, and if he ever had seen a sight that spoke of light it had been when the white horse with the white rider had left the stables in full gallop.

Haltingly the stallion took another step, his head still low enough to breathe in the scents. Now the two-legs could reach for him if he wanted to. During the first weeks of his captivity the dark bay had learned exactly at what distances two-legs operated, and how their different tools worked to change that distance. And he still wore the halter and rope he had had on when he had first met this special two-legs, because he had been in too much haste to run once he had been allowed to set foot again on the endless grasslands so he had not waited for being released of them. It did not matter much; he was used to avoid falling over the rope, even if it was a hindrance sometimes. And maybe this two-legs would actually free him from this obstacle.

It was maybe partly this hope that had led the dark bay to make this deciding step towards the two-legs, and away from freedom. But even more it was this strong longing the stallion could not name, a longing to participate in things greater than he ever would be able to understand, and a longing for a bond stronger than he ever had experienced so far. He just felt he had to take this step, to cross this border.

Another careful step, and then he was close enough to softly nuzzle the two-legs in the face. He knew two-legs could lie down much longer than horses without coming to harm, but he instinctively also knew at this time and for this two-legs continuing to lie was not right. This two-legs needed to get off the ground. And finally the stallion’s soft urgings were answered. The two-legs mumbled something the horse had learned to recognize as the sounds he was addressed with. But still the two-legs would not rise. Like a mare might nuzzle her foal to encourage it to stand the stallion again tried to get the two-legs up, but to no avail.

Then he remembered a game his former rider and he had played. On a special command the horse would lie down, and on rare occasions the rider had mounted him then. The dark bay had never initiated this out of his own free will, but maybe nobody had taught this two-legs about this game, so he would not know which commands to use. The stallion resolved to show him, maybe he would understand, and then they could be on their way.

Carefully the dark bay went on his knees and then lay down. And indeed, once he was lying he felt a hand slowly creep up into his mane and weakly grab a few strands, and then two-legs struggled onto his back. The stallion came back onto his feet as soon as he dared and when no command came to direct him he choose a path away from the river, toward the area he had come from.

It was a long distance, since the big dark bay had run fast and far in his joy to be free again. And the way back had to be made much slower for the stallion could feel that his new rider would fall off his back if he ran now. They were on the trail for a while already when finally the two-legs started to stir on his back. He murmured in the soothing voice he had used back at the stables when the stallion had been so frightened of the darkness he had felt approaching, and by the long and disturbing absence of his former chosen rider. On a level deep down the stallion had understood back then that his former rider would not come to him again, and that the other two-legs handling him meant him no harm, still he had been too frightened and too angry to obey – until the two-legs now lying on his back had come and helped him overcome his anger and fear.

The stallion still strongly remembered the controlled body language, the soft voice and the soothing hands his new chosen rider had used to calm him back then. They had formed a bond then, a bond that the dark bay now felt strengthening on their slow journey. It took some time until his new rider was able to weakly grab the rope that still was trailing behind the stallion. For a short moment the dark bay tensed. Now he would feel for the first time the hand of this two-legs as rider. Would he be led now with a soft hand or rather with a strong grip? But actually his new rider did neither at first. He just loosely held the rope so that the dark bay was no longer in danger of accidentally treading on it.

And even when he later sometimes used the rope to signal the horse where he wanted to go his hand was light, as was his weight for he was able to move in unison with the stallion’s swift movements once he was fully awake and aware again. Even when they – luckily from a distance only – encountered the huge masses of two-legs that smelled of more darkness than the horse had ever felt in one place this special two-legs’ signals and commands to help the stallion through his fear had been gentle again, and also confident.

And then they had climbed the mountain. The stallion loved the way his muscles and the ones of his rider felt on the ascent, powerful and strong, and on top of the hill they had stood and enjoyed the sight and the feeling of the wind in their hairs. The stallion had trembled in joy and excitement then, and again the human had spoken soothingly to him, but this time also with a voice full of energy again. The big stallion was content with his decision. All was as it should be.