As the wind whistled through the long brown limbs of the trees, the young mares ears pricked and dialed around in interest and anticipation. She drew in the scents that were carrying on the moving wind and stomped her hooves in excitement, shaking her mane from side to side and holding in a whinny of exhilaration.
She could smell him, fresher and closer. So she edged forward again, towards where he stood. Her hooves barely rustled the leaf litter as she stepped softly on the earth of the forest, bowing her head to avoid the hanging branches as she crept through the shadows that hung and stretched low.
Iowa snorted; she knew how close she was to him now... feet... inches...? So close her outstretched muzzle could touch his steaming hide that glowed a brown ember amid the green of the pine forest.
Iowa snorted as she anxiously tried to hold in her excitement. How fun it had been to follow him, to stay hidden and watch as he travelled through the forest. To run so silently in the da