(Following The Great White North and then continuing there.)

Sara watched the others drink the tea. She still wasn’t convinced that the stuff would have any effect on her body, but at the same time, she didn’t want to offend Raina, or her customs. At the same time, Sara found the idea of this vision quest, personal. Call it her cat side coming out.

Sara strolled around to the other side of their tents where not even the dogs would have a chance to see her, and downed the tea so fast, she didn’t let it hit her tongue, where the cooled drink hit her warm gut, like someone kicked her insides. Sara felt her system speed up in response to the tea, and with a sigh, she let her knees buckle so that she sank to sit in the snow.

Nothing happened. Jut like Sara knew nothing would happen, but she still wanted to try. Her healing ability just kept her from being able to be effected. She tried giving the tea longer to hit her system but the fact was that the longer she waited, the less of a chance there was, that anything really was going to happen.

And then there was that happening thing. This vision quest instructions were rather vag. Was there a way to do it wrong? Was Sara performing this vision quest wrong and didn’t know it? She drank the tea. That’s all she’d really been told to do. Could you drink Tea wrong?

Of course you couldn’t The voice of logic in the back of her head chimed in. Drinking was one of the few things that had only one way of accomplishing the task. One way to drink, there for there was no way to get the instructions wrong. That left Sara’s boy. Her mutation that set her so far apart from every thing else, was now getting in the way again. Sara felt even more distanced from Neveed, Sam, Raina, and Luke. Just like her body wouldn’t let her walk in public regularly with those she cared about, her body apparently wouldn’t let her share this experience for Raina.

Was it possible to fake a vision quest.

There was no response from her inner voice. Just silence that was filled with nothing but the sound of the wind as it pushed Sara’s hair out of her face and made it drift in the air behind her. There was a soft thump behind Sara, and she casually shifted so she could look.

The sound came from a horse. Sara’s eye brow rose, and she shifted so that she could look at the large animal, better. Had horses been wild way up here? Sara couldn’t remember. She assumed the animal to be a pet that had gotten loose from it’s owner.

Sara had encountered horses before. The animals had been used in tracking her down, along side sent hounds. They’d been able to go further on four hoof drive than gas propelled machines did on wheels so they had been crucial tools when she had first tried to escape the labs. Then when Sara had finally run far enough, she’d seen them up close, in fields, or being used for pleasure and sport. Horses couldn’t choose what happened to them, and because of that, she had grow akin to them despite the fact that Sara had never felt the desire to get close to one, or even touch it.

This one was particularly fascinating to her. It’s coat was so white, that the skin around it’s nostrils and eyes was pink. Deep orangish brown stared right back into Sara’s amber ones and the mare’s head was held high, at attention, with her ears flicking forwards, then backwards, and forwards again. It’s right ear gave a sharp twitch to rid it’s self of an annoying strand of mane. At first glance, this mare was a magnificent creature. Then Sara looked closer.

The horses flanks were littered with scars that were just visible as pink lines, under the thinned fur. Her tail, and mane, where both thick with hairs that looked whiter than the shadow cast snow in the sun, and at the same time, it looked as though someone had still pulled handfuls of hair away. It’s knees had been skinned at one time, and around it’s right leg, it looked like it had gotten it’s self wrapped in an electrical fence, as well as a perfect, pink, ring had been etched around it’s cannon bone. It wasn’t till the Mare started to move, that Sara noticed a nasty injury to her right shoulder. The mare had gorgeous flowing movement, but still limped.

The mare trotted in a semi circle, the entire while looking Sara right in the eye with her head held high. The shoulder injury had been deep. Probably the deepest Sara had ever seen any horse receive. It started from the point of the horses withers then cris-crossed and zigzagged down it’s shoulder as if someone had repeatedly tried to cripple her.

Sara felt her heart speed up as the beats felt like they had jumped into her throat. She didn’t understand how someone could abuse such a beautiful creature. Sure Sara had just hunted hares, but that was different. He kills were fast, accurate, and for her family, err…. Friends. What ever the monsters did to this horse, was madness and now even though she had broken free she was probably going to die of starvation because what type of horse would really be able to make it out here in the cold? Especially one who’d been hurt so much.

Sara reached for a dried clump of grass, and tried offering the food to the horse who’s eyes suddenly went wide. The mare halted in her tracks, eyes taking in Sara then the food, Sara then the food. Till they rested on the food, and she nickered. Carefully she edged her way closer to Sara. Her neck reached out as long as it could and her lips stretched an extra two inches. Even though she was three feet away by the time she started to reach.

Sara watched her carefully. Not willing t move but making the mare come closer to her. Inch by inch the Mare slowly reached to snag the food out of Sara’s hands, but at the last minute her eyes shot wide enough Sara saw their whites. Without warning the mare squealed, snorted, and spun her back heals around to nail Sara in the chest.

Sara flew backwards into a near bank of snow, and the mare ran off, tossing her high held head as her hooves practically stabbed at the snow as she used her weight to plunge them deeper and run faster.

The mare skidded to a stop, where Sara originally saw her. Her head tossed back, throwing her mane out behind her like a waving banner, and she looked Sara directly in the eye again.

“Stupid crazy horse.” Sara muttered as she felt her body heal from getting kicked. Sara pushed herself out of the snow so that she was standing, put her hands on her hip, and stared back.

This was great. Just freaking great. The horse didn’t know what it wanted, obviously. Because just before it kicked Sara, it did want the food she had. Something in the horse knew that Sara wanted to help it, even though obviously Sara had the look of a predatory cat and the horse was, a horse.

Then again, Sara reminded herself that she knew what the horse was going through. What the horse had gone through. Proof made by all those scars. Someone had beaten this horse. Someone had tried to make her submit to a life that wasn’t natural for a horse to have. Sara reminded herself to be patient. Because this horse had grown up in captivity where humans probably were good to her, just long enough to get her close, before the bad things started. Bad things Sara remembered all too well. But at the same time, Sara wanted to move on from this stage she was at, with the mare. Because Surely a mare could not survive alone out here in the tundra, without a herd, or was a herd something that scared her two. Had she even ever seen her own kind?

Sara took one step forward, towards the white mare who’s head bobbed up and down snorting again. Making Sara freeze, so as not to scare the horse off, or send her back into flight. The two were still as statues for another moment, then like someone blew a horn, the mare gracefully wheeled around, dug her hooves into the ground, and took off. Her white coat of fur looked as though it disintegrated into the falling snow and Sara took off at a full run to catch up to her. Following the sounds of her hooves in the snow.

It was a moment before the mare came back into view. The snowy curtain had lifted away to reveal the horses lovely flowing movement that was only made into an odd beat, because of the limp on her right front leg. At the same time, Sara was forced to admire their speed as in a matter of moments the snow had been dusted away by the rays of the sun, and trees had seemed to sprout out of the landscape as the two of them got closer. Soon lush grass covered their path, and straw berry fields on either side of them, reminded Sara of her first meal as a free cat. Pilphered from crops that smelled as sweet as these. They must have run for hundreds of miles in the matter of time it took Sara to take a few breaths of air. Even Sara, with her healing abilities, should be exhausted, but still the horse pressed on.

The horse lead the way, through farm land, around barns that were so old they looked like only structural skeletons. Barbed wire fence pulled at Sara’s fur as she passed it. Remembering a close escape from a farmer who had nearly shot her with a bolt action rifle, while she ducked for cover with her chicken she had pilfered from his coop. Then the two animals plowed through a river that reminded Sara of the tiny clearing she had once learned how to fish like a cat.

Couldn’t this horse stop? She was injured and Sara truly wished to help. But the horse was incredibly bull headed. She very well might run herself to death before even chancing a glance behind her, at the predator that only meant to do her good. The thought made Sara push herself harder, and without looking back, the horse pushed harder as well.

Through tall grass where quail flew in Sara’s face, around the high ways, across empty bridges, till houses popped up faster than the trees had a moment ago. Then they were plowing through back yard after back yard, darting across empty streets, and dodging parked cars sitting in traffic lanes forever waiting for red lights. City after city popped back from Sara’s memories then faded away till Sara recognized the skyline of new York and she leaned back, letting her feet skid to a stop. It just felt like time to stop. This running after a stupid horse was ridiculous.

The funny thing is the horse stopped too. Standing 10 yards before Sara, the mare looked back and her, around her big white rump. Sara stared at her, and slowly started to approach her again. Making a wide circle around her back legs, then to her shoulder. The horse just watched. Head still held high and her right ear twitched. Sara was an inch away from touching her delicate nose, when she woke up, and found she’d never left the hunting camps in the Great White North.