Winter of the Crystal Dances

by Angela Dorsey

  Chapter 5

  Terrible hunger woke me in the middle of the night. I picked up my wind-up flashlight and crept out of bed as quietly as I could, then clicked it on when I entered the front room. Loonie rose from her mat by the door. When I whispered to her to stay, she settled down again gratefully, as if she’d stood only because she thought she should.

  In the kitchen area, I cut a big slice of bread and spread it with homemade butter. It wasn’t until I’d taken two big bites and still felt as hungry as ever that I realized the gnawing hunger was from the mustangs. Once again, they were coming close enough for me to sense. Rusty had been right. As usual.

  Loonie gazed at me with begging eyes as I tiptoed past her to the big chair by the window, so I whispered to her to follow me. She gulped down the bread and butter that I gave her, then settled at my feet as I stared out at the night.

  The loose hay was dark on the meadow and the trees surrounding it even darker. The snow lay unmarred beneath a thin covering of fresh snow, and I realized I was holding my breath as I soaked in the diamond’s sparkle and glimmering ice crystals that crusted the surface. If only Mom could paint this light, this serenity. She’d be instantly famous.

  I smell heaven, and joy surges through my body. It’s still there. Dark Moon pushes past me, rushing toward the deliciousness. I run after him – and I’m called back. So is Ice. My hooves drag as I slow, stop, reluctantly obey my dam. Dark Moon keeps on and every one of my muscles aches to follow him, to rush to the food that taunts us. Loudly, forcefully, Night Hawk demands he return to the herd. Dark Moon ignores our leader and, seconds later, Night Hawk plunges past me, teeth bared, racing after Dark Moon. I am so glad I didn’t follow!

  In the cabin, I sunk further into their sensations. I felt the pain the colt felt when the stallion bit him, the fear when his sire chased him to the back of the group. But worst than this was Dark Moon’s realization he was now doomed to be the last to eat. Next time, he’d listen to Night Hawk.

  Cautiously, the mustangs stepped forward, all their senses on alert. I kept quiet in my own mind. If I even thought a whisper at them, they’d be gone, and only wisps of scattered snow would remain where they stood.

  Night Hawk stopped his herd when they reached the edge of the meadow, and stepped into the open. I could see him now – a dark silhouette moving from the trees, stepping high and carefully through the snow. He paused. Looked about. Continued. When he came to the hay, he stretched out his neck and sniffed the closest morsels.

  Finally he turned his head and nickered to the others. They trotted forward in a group, completely trusting their leader to guide them, and dove into the hay. At last, after weeks of being hungry and cold, they could eat freely of this magical gift that the land had given them.

  At first, there were a few minor scuffles. Night Hawk chased Dark Moon to the other side of the hay pile, and Black Wing crowded against the buckskin filly. Twilight’s dam, Wind Dancer, bit Black Wing on the shoulder to warn her away from her daughter, and then they settled down to eat peacefully side by side.

  It was magical to watch them, to feel their contentment and gratitude for their good fortune. The hay disappeared quickly. Four bales don’t go far with seven extremely hungry horses and I watched it vanish with a sense of alarm. Soon the hay would be gone and the horses would leave. I didn’t want them to go. Not yet. Well, not ever. They were awesome.

  Twilight scampered sideways, galloped and bucked in a circle, then stopped to nip Ice on the shoulder. The two reared together, sheer delight in their movements. Their bellies were full, their good spirits restored, all was well – and so it was playtime.

  Their joy was my joy and it took all my self-control to not leap about with Loonie. Their lightness affected the other mustangs too, and soon the last hay stalks lay abandoned and forgotten. Even the old mare, Snow Crystal, ran about, leaping and rearing. Their long, tangled manes and tails tossed in the wind they created and their hooves churned up sparkly snow crystals. Clouds of glitter surrounded them, winking and flashing in the light of the full moon, as they ran and jumped and played.

  And so they danced as the moon slid down the sky. I watched them for a timeless forever as they allowed the beauty of their world to overtake them. I can’t begin to write how glorious it all was. Words aren’t enough. One thing for sure, I’d never wanted to really truly be a horse so much in my life.

  But as much as I was there with them, I could never fully enter their world. All I could do was sit in my house on a cold night with my old dog at my feet and listen and watch – and even though it made me sad to know I’d be shut out forever, I also felt unbelievably privileged to glimpse even a brief moment of that magic.

  When it was over and the mustangs’ dark silhouettes blended back into the forest, when the moon illuminated only rough broken snow, I crept back to bed, knowing I’d never be the same after this night, the night of the crystal dances.