The Moon Horse

The moon horse was not always a moon horse. He ran through the pastures and up the sides of mountains.

He led a herd and stood proud, mane flowing in the wind as he gazed down on his territory.

The villagers watched him from afar. Many men had tried to catch him, but they were all unsuccessful. Many of them never returned.

There was a girl in the village who dreamed of taming this untamable horse. She watched his silhouette grace the horizon and saw him in her dreams. She spoke to him. She listened to him. She learned to understand him.

And she was blind.

Her blindness caused her to be hated by the villagers. They kept their distance and murmured about her glazed eyes. They hid their faces as she passed by and drew their children behind doors as she approached.

They whispered and hid from her. They closed her off.

As she gazed at the horizon one day she felt the horse grace it and she stood up. Something within her longed to touch him and her body obeyed that longing.

She walked toward him, eyes set as she left the village behind. The villagers watched her go. They came to their doors and looked out as she passed by, her raven hair falling around her neck. They watched her, whispering to each other as she passed, knowing this was her final journey.

“There she goes,” they said, “We knew she was destined for destruction.”

They stood in their doors as she disappeared into the forest. They could still see the horse’s silhouette on the horizon, standing proud in the only grassy area for miles around. Her parents watched her go. They had seen it in her eyes when she was born, but they wished it could be different.

The girl listened to the wind in the trees as she walked. It whispered to her and she heard its secrets. She followed her heart as it led her deeper and deeper into the forest.

She came upon the clearing and found the horse standing there. He looked at her. His eyes refused to reflect the light of the sun as they searched her. He knew her. He turned.

She felt him turn to leave. She couldn't be sure if he was inviting her to follow or if he was passively telling her she was not good enough to be reckoned with. She felt the insult waft by her on the breeze, but she forced her feet to follow him.

The sun slanted through the trees and every once in a while it glinted off his hide. It flashed in the sun, the only light she could see.

She followed him for days. Every once in a while he let her get quite close before bolting away suddenly. He raced on ahead of her and left her to listen to the directions of the wind. She tilted her head as the wind caught her raven hair and heard it whisper through the leaves. She continued.

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Years turned back into days.

She followed the promptings of her heart without wavering. She pursued the object so many before had pursued and knew it would be her final journey.

The horse stood in the clearing. The sun glinted through his hide and she watched him. He tore up the grass in chunks as if he hadn't eaten in days. The girl heard him eat and approached him. She heard him stop and look at her. She heard him turn to leave.

But she continued to approach anyway. She moved toward him while he was eating and spoke to him. Words passed the gate of her mouth and she cared not what they were. She listened to the tune rather than the words and wove meaning with her melodies.

The horse stopped and looked at her. He let her approach and watched her hand as it moved from her side and came toward him.

As her fingertips brushed his fur a shock shot through him. They felt the lightning as it struck their existence and smelled the singing of their memories. He bolted.

Dirt flew from his hooves as he turned, and the girl picked up her feet to follow. He stopped on the other side of the clearing and let her approach once more. He listened to the melodies of her words and once more watched hear approaching hand.

She reached out and touched him.

Time stopped.

She saw him look at her. She felt the reflection of his eyes. It reflected her soul.

She looked at him with her unseeing eyes and felt his thoughts mold into hers. She heard him through her mind, thoughts of the grass, thoughts of the wind, thoughts of the trees.

She looked through his eyes and saw the sun darkened. She saw the darkness of the world. She saw the pain. She saw the suffering. She saw the hurt. Tears filled her eyes as she fell to the ground.

He reached down and exhaled over her hair. She felt the breath and looked up. She placed her hand on his muzzle and rose. She mounted and turned toward the village.

The villagers saw her coming. They saw her emerge from the forest, the only person to surmount the insurmountable. Her raven hair fell matted around her waist.

The villagers peered out of their windows and doors as she approached and fell in behind her as she made her way to her parents’ house. She dismounted as she reached the house and walked into the cavern of a doorway.

The villagers watched her disappear and griped their pitchforks.

Surely this girl was a witch come to destroy them all, unless they destroyed her first.

They closed in on the horse as he stood. He awaited his master and eyed the encroaching villagers. A fire stirred in his eyes.

At the first shuffle of the horse’s feet the girl reappeared. The villagers stood back at the wrath on her face.

They saw through her glazed eyes and understood the meaning there. They stepped back as she jumped onto the horse and galloped into the forest.

The villagers set their dogs loose and mounted their own horses. They chased after the girl. They watched her hair stream out behind her and saw the trees move aside so as not to catch it in their branches. They watched the trees close once more as they approached.

The dogs pursued the horse and wore him down. The villagers came with their weapons, ready to bring the witch to justice. They followed her not realizing where they had gone.

The girl traversed paths unknown to men. She found the paths of the sky and raced over them as the villagers pursued her, but they were not made for the sky. She mounted higher and higher, but the villagers simply saw her disappearing. They watched as her outline vanished among the trees and looked up into the sky.

There they saw her constellation. The raven hair still cascading down her back, the horse’s eyes remaining twin black holes.