Theea
i have been trying to wander more
The last dent gives beneath our swings, the metal groaning before settling flatter than I’d dared to hope. Together Sohalia and I muscle the weight of the gate back upright; the new hinges bite cleanly, pins sliding through with a satisfying clink. I test it once—open, shut—smooth enough.
The stallion who made all this mess prowls up again, ears still half‑pinned. I plant myself between him and the freshly hung gate, hands on my hips. “Oh, no you don’t. Look at this masterpiece. You are not wrecking round two.”
I click my tongue and soften, fingers threading through the coarse hair along his jaw to try and calm him before leaving. I give his neck a final pat and step back.
“All yours—gently,” I warn him, then scoop up my pack and fall into step beside Soh. With one last wave to the foals, my boots crunch through starlit gravel toward the paths.
Theea says bye to the irate stallion after fixing the gate, and follows Soh to the paths
The stallion who made all this mess prowls up again, ears still half‑pinned. I plant myself between him and the freshly hung gate, hands on my hips. “Oh, no you don’t. Look at this masterpiece. You are not wrecking round two.”
I click my tongue and soften, fingers threading through the coarse hair along his jaw to try and calm him before leaving. I give his neck a final pat and step back.
“All yours—gently,” I warn him, then scoop up my pack and fall into step beside Soh. With one last wave to the foals, my boots crunch through starlit gravel toward the paths.
Theea says bye to the irate stallion after fixing the gate, and follows Soh to the paths
i have been trying to breathe more, to love my lostness
