An Adventure Cut Short
The little horse scampered along the trail ahead of the rest of the group. He felt he could walk forever. He found little bits of greenery to nibble. Some of the leaves were tough, but they were not full of spines and thorns as everything in the desert had been. He enjoyed the bitter, tangy taste of laurel. The mosses were soft and mushy as he chewed them. But he never stopped for long. The trail called him onward.
At last he came to the open rock face that the park ranger had described. He could see a bare rocky point off in the distance, and behind that, a range of mountains. How he longed to continue onwards. But they had gotten a late start. There was a long drive back to the hotel, and they did not want to be on that windy mountain road in the dark. Everyone except the little horse agreed that this was as far as they could go.
The little horse sighed. He gazed out at the mountain ridge. He vowed that someday he would live in mountains again and never have to go home if he didn’t want to.