by Isabella Ritchie

Created on: July 16, 2009

A long oval island rimmed with beaches the palest shade of gold, and filled with trees and brush laden with fruit and flowers that filled the air with a sweet scent. The jungle was sliced through from the center, where there was a small pond full of lilies and reeds that sang when the wind whisked itself through them, all the way to the end of the beach.

There, the fresh water of the stream and the salty water of the aqua ocean swirled as they tried to mix, but couldn't. So the water on the island stayed fresh as the water still underground, ready to pulse upward from the spring that fed the pond, as well as all the vegetation on the small isle. With the waves crashing in the background, and being interrupted by the serene sound of singing birds that stayed hidden in the large leaves high above the ground, it was hard to believe there was any hostility on this secret paradise.

But there was.

On this deserted island lived three rival herds of horses. Each spring the island was full of frolicking foals, running on the Blue Beach, trotting through the Red River, or playing tag in White Wildflower Meadow. Each late autumn the colts were exiled from the herd, when they started their bachelor bands. And the fillies went to the other herd. From the Blue Roans of Blue Beach went the fillies to the Red Roans of Red River. The two roan herds continued this tradition to keep from inbreeding, but the elegant ivory White Wildflower Meadow horses refused to join in the tradition, keeping their bloodlines perfect.

In the forest near the pond where all three herds met every New Moon where the sky was lit only by the stars, a colt, barely two years of age, nibbled at the large leaves growing from the soft earth. The albino had run from his bachelor band, tired of being treated like a mare in the herd. With his strong legs, muscled neck, and tall built, the colt was built for speed. He had often raced from angered lead stallions, laughing all the way.

A twig cracked. Then the colt heard a leaf brushing something. A splash in the river indicated something noisily passing by. Although the colt had rebelled from his friends because he was tired of being held back and restricted, he was nervous.

Every horse knows there is safety in numbers and his number of companions was a big parrot egg, leaving him in a dangerous situation. A fruit was snapped from its stem next to him, and the colt whirled, coming face-to-face with a young filly, nearly his age and

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