Little Cowhunter
Active member
We run. His feet beat the ground like a steady drum. The trees pass us by and wave with their skeletal limbs. The leaves soar behind us in a tornado of decaying autum colors. The cool crisp air burns my lungs. Consistant clouds of warm air burst from his nostrils with every smooth stride he takes. His heart beat hums with a swift melody as mine does. The rising sun warms my face as the steam rises from the drenched skin of his body. we break free from the shady protection od the obstacle filled forest. The open field lies ahead- freedom. Freedom to run. Straght through, never ceasing, we run through the prairie. Never once looking at the land where memories are bestowed. Straight on through we continue to run. Never once looking back. My one last ride through the prairi. I've got it. As the sun rises to it's highest point, we run. It's beams hit the green grass, and onto the sunlight. We run up its beams. Up to The Son. like my father, we never return- we run.
