The wind whistles through the leaves of the trees, carried swiftly along, whispering the tales of the High Country. Voices on the wind seem to echo a name, speaking it over and over. That name is so hard to hear though, in the gathering ferociousness of the storm. Those dark clouds building on the horizon seem to hang back for a moment, waiting for the call that would bring the rain crashing down, covering the land in mist and mystery. The very mystery of the High Country was about that humid day, moving without a pause or hesitation upon the dry terrain. Hooves slipped themselves lightly upon the terrain with ease, placed upon tussocks of grass or rocks, always careful to hide the prints that could be made by those hooves. The brumby did not want to draw the attention of the Man, nor any other creature. He moved without a goal, without a purpose. His name? The wind carries his name, flying along upon the very wind itself. Whistling through the snowgums, dancing through the snowgrass. The tall, proud candlebarks stood high and twisted their way up through the air with elegance. And there, emerging from the tea-tree, came the Silver Stallion himself. The son of Yarraman, stepping from the shadows of the gum trees, out into the open. For one moment, the wind caught him, grabbing at him and sending his silvery mane and tail flying through the air. Caught in a willy-willy, the stallion halted where he was, allowing himself to be caught in the rapture of the wind. He heard his name, twisting about his body, curling around the trees behind him. Yes, this was his country. His home. The High Country, the Cascades. This land was his, for he was the Lord of the High Country Brumbies, the King of the Cascades. He sprung forward now, his muscles rippling beneath his cream coat, stretching out as he leapt up onto a rock, throwing his head skyward. From within came a scream, a cry of defiance, letting the High Country know that he was here, forever. ‘It is I, Thowra!’ He cried to the trees, he cried to the great kites who circled overhead. For this was the High Country, and it was home to all of the brumbies, now and forever.

HTML (c) to Nikkayla, 2005. Writing (c) to Nikkayla. Drawing (c) to Thowra.