Today's prompt is 'intensity':
Galloping under the vast, morning sky, Fire and I rode forth. To our left, the sun broke the distant horizon, igniting the cliffs that fell behind us. The intensity of freedom echoed in the thundering of Fire’s hooves, the whistling of the wind on the open plain. A winged silhouette appeared against the drifting orange fluff above.
An old friend, the eagle soared beside us one last time. He must have known, releasing his crying call before returning to the world we were leaving behind. But this, this was not sorrow. Fire and I were finally going to our new tomorrow, a place as bright and fresh as that warming sun beside us.
When writing this I heard it in a Western accent, and now I feel inspired to write a first-person tale of the old West, an age of horses, outlaws, and uncertain futures. We'll see. 😉
Thanks for reading!
On a side note: Fire was the only horse name I could think of with the timer ticking down, but I realize now how problematic it would be. You go to call your horse and next thing you know everyone's panicked the town will burn down. If I ever do write that Western I'll have to keep it in mind. 😅
Picture Source (before editing)
