The quiet call of a currawong echoes throughout the large chain of blue mountains. They stretch up toward the sky, their peaks white with snow. Below, the snowgums sway in the gentle breeze. Many creeks and lakes also move under the gentle tendrils of the wind. All is quiet, apart from the occasional song of a magpie or the laugh of a kookaburra. The small, near empty clearing you stand in is filled with small patches of snowgrass, which provides nurishment to a few kangaroos. They lift their heads at your approach, all leaving the meadow in a series of hops. All but one. He is a tall, greyish kangaroo who studies you carefully. The whispers of gumtree leaves melts in with his short bark. He continues his observation of you while he waits. A lone eagle swirls in the gently tinted sky, spreading it's wings as if too content to simply wait for whoever the kangaroo named Benni called for. Finally he comes. A large, silver horse. His mane the very wind, his eyes the stars, his movements simple bursts of colour. Charred hooves carry him forth between the forest of silver gumtrees. He, himself, colour of the silver bark. A call escapes his lips, swirling, swirling up high toward the clouds, and the eagle, in response, to it dips it's huge wings and takes off, a fading dot in the distance. The horse, a smile of satisfaction on his face at seeing the bird, turns to to the kangaroo and to you. Silver ears perk towards Benni first. 'A new visitor, o' silver friend?' His voice, merely a whisper amongst the dances of leaves, carries forth. 'Yes.' Benni glances to you once more. The horse gazes over at you too. 'Welcome to The Blue Mountains. I am Thowra.' no more escapes his lips, as he merely stands. Benni speaks next. 'These lands may be your future home if you wish. To build a home, raise a family. To learn the lesson of life.'Thowra bobs his silver head, almost seeming to melt into the background of the bush. 'Apart from myself and Benni, a stallion named The Brolga inhabits these parts. A cruel, grey creature who will stop at nothing to own The Blue Mountains. He is one too that may cross your path.' 'If you wish to be one of the many equines in these parts, simply find your way to the Joining Plains,' Benni continues. He then swings around, and within a few great bounds is gone, the distance thumping all that gives him away. Thowra too thrusts his frontlegs forward, swinging his head around. The sun catches his flowing locks, giving a spark before dissolving him. No more does a silver horse stand between the silver kangaroo and the large stretchs of land before all. Yet the invitation to live in The Blue Mountains remains, as it will forever.

The Blue Mountains awaits...

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