Without the sun, it was almost impossible to separate the days from the nights. The only time I knew when night had fallen was when the air was cool and the spots of brightness at the edges of the sky covering fell dim.
Three-ish days passed in this way. We adapted. We had to. We avoided humanos at all cost, stayed in the middle of the pen, and avoided coming up to the edge except for water.
Some of the other horses tried to talk to us. Their opinions of the humanos varied as much as their color of their coat. The older ones applauded us for sticking to our guns. The younger ones told us we were being silly, that the humanos were not that bad. I chose to listen to the older ones.
Humanos were predators. We were prey. Prey does not trust the predator.
On the fourth day, I had ventured beyond the safety of the herd to get a drink from the metal pond. I noticed that once again, leaning against the fence, there was the weathered male humano with the sky eyes. Watching me.
I snorted, whirling to face him as I stepped backwards. I didn’t like being watched. It was too vulnerable a place for a mustang to be. I pinned my ears and slashed my black tail through the air, preparing to bolt if he made so much as one wrong move.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded.
The Sky-Eyed man’s posture loosened. He still leaned on the fence, but he began speaking in the tongue of humanos. That same rumble voice.
His body language spoke in the words of my people. Saying, “I won’t hurt you.”
I stepped backwards again. “I don’t believe you.”
Humanos. Predator. Me. Prey.
He walked away from the fence. I blew a sigh of relief.
I didn’t like seeing him watch me so. It was that same careful look, the one that reminded me of Sombre.
I didn’t want to think about Sombre.
The man came back, this time with another humano. The two of them talked, and from their glances upward, I could tell they were talking about me.
Oh no. This couldn’t be good.
The second humano bobbed his head several times before he scurried off. The Sky-Eyed man looked toward me again, speaking those strange rumble words.
In the mix of his gibberish, I heard one word I recognized.
Filly.
He followed the second man, leaving me reeling in shock. Filly. Sombre’s nickname for me. Potranca.
How did he know my nickname?
I trotted back to the herd, much perplexed by this. Polla sensed my confusion as she passed me on her way to the metal pond. “Ay! Potranca, why the long face?”
“A humano…” I sputtered, trying to make sense of it. “A humano spoke to me. In our tongue.”
“Bah!” She snorted. “You need to drink more water. A humano, speaking in the voice of a mustang? Impossible!”
“But I heard him!” I argued. “He called me by my nickname. Filly.”
“You heard him wrong.” Polla said firmly. “Humanos cannot speak out language. Our species cannot communicate, just as we cannot communicate with the coyotes and lobos.”
“But–” I began, but Polla glared at me, clacking her yellow teeth.
“No buts, Potranca! Do not let yourself be troubled by something that was merely the wind.” The older mare trotted towards the metal pond, still scowling.
I shook my head until my mane snapped against my neck and my ears buzzed. Polla was right. It was just the wind. Or my imagination. There was no way he could have said “filly”.
A beeping noise shook the air, causing everyone in the herd to bolt away from the rails. When I reached the other end of the pen, I looked back to see what was making the sound.
A metal box, just like the one that had brought us here, backed up to the pen. Standing beside it, waving it along, was the Sky-Eyed man and his comrade.
My ears flicked forward in interest. What could this be? What did it mean?
The other mares were confused as well. The silver mare from yesterday, Estrella, stood next to me with her grullo filly. “That is the same box they used to take us from our lands.”
“Perhaps…” I gasped, trying to make sense of it all. “Perhaps they have come to bring us back. Just like what the other herd said. They only brought us here to prick our necks and then bring us back.”
We’d had our necks pricked yesterday, by a man who smelled odd and had people put us in tiny boxes that kept us from going forward or backward. Perhaps this metal box meant we were to be released back home.
The humanos shifted the bars of our prison, allowing a gap into the box. Two humanos jumped into the pen, shifting and sliding through the herd until a red dun mare I didn’t know bolted into the box.
Herding. I knew that action. They were picking and choosing who would go, and who would stay.
They pushed a black yearling toward the box, then a seal brown mare. Only the young and strong of the herd. Why?
Well, if this box was meant to take us home, I wasn’t about to waste a single second.
I ran as fast as my short legs could take me toward the box. Towards my freedom. Towards Sombre.
“Potranca, wait!” Estrella shouted. “It might not be–”
I didn’t hear her. My hoofbeats rattled up the ramp and I leapt up inside.
I stumbled in the darkness, finally finding my footing on the dry-grass bedding they put inside. Outside the box, strange noises like crows cackling echoed around the cold walls.
Unease twisted in my gut, but why? The box was meant to take us home. I was sure of it.
A buckskin mare was herded in, then the door closed, leaving most of the herd behind.
“Wait.” I looked around. Only six horses? This could not be right.
“Wait for what?” The buckskin mare glared at me. I guessed her age to be six winters, and she was extremely tall, even for a mustang.
“Th-the humanos.” I sputtered. “They’re taking us home, aren’t they?”
She snorted. “You are foolish, filly. The humanos never release us. They are only taking us Somewhere Else. I would think that you would have more brains than to believe that predators would actually help the prey survive.”
I backed up, stumbling again as the box roared and everything began to move.
She was right. I was a fool.
I had willingly gone into the box, hoping to find freedom and Sombre once the journey ended.
Instead, it would be doubtful if I ever saw him again.
Aya… what have I done?
