The sun, soft gold smeared on the wide-open sky, sat high - stretching lively shadows that twitched each time wind breathed through. But up beyond, floating cool and bright in the pale heavens, a ghost-lit circle kept quiet watch - a moon out early, seeing everything without saying a word. This place, nowhere else quite like it, pulsed raw and free, colored in earth-fire tones: dusty brown, red-leaf deep, and green so thick it hummed. This place belonged to horses - a wide-open scene where dead leaves snapped beneath your feet, sounding like broken glass, while fat orange gourds popped up across the fields. A few stayed small, tucked quietly into the fading plants; meanwhile, some grew massive, standing watch over their turf without saying a word. The breeze felt sharp, carrying hints of wet soil and rotting sweetness, humming with its own raw pulse - an aliveness that didn’t rely on people to keep going. Over by the tree line, where old twisted oaks loomed like silent watchers, two shapes held their ground, quietly taking it all in. Barracuda - massive as a warhorse, fur dark red-brown and shining like wet wood - stood calm but heavy with meaning. His gaze, deep brown like soil after rain, swept across the land like he’d seen every season pass ten times over, a whisper of something close to amusement tugging one corner of his mouth. Next to him, Severyn floated in stillness, ghostly bright in a sea of fading leaves; her white blaze glowed not just clean but alive, drinking sunbeams, looking less like flesh and more like frost woven into form. Her gentle gaze, like the shade of a warm day's sky, carried a calm wisdom - a silent joy mirroring the hush in their surroundings. She stood firm, a steady center when everything else burst with wild energy. Then that storm started building. Farther on, close to a thick tangle of wide-spreading creepers, three more horses wound around each other, their bodies jerking slightly from pent-up motion. Raylee - a female horse with rare, layered looks - knew that jolt of waiting excitement pulsing under her silvery smoke-black pearl-champagne overo-speckled hide. That special mix of tones, quiet but deep, lifted her dark roots through glints of silver, pearl, and golden sheen, so light slid across her skin whenever she shifted. Across this blend, jagged white blotches spilled along her flanks, one stretching toward her underside, another outlining her sharp, watchful brown gaze, almost like she’d been shaped from fog and pale night glow. She scraped the dirt, kicking up little bursts of broken foliage, steam rising from her nostrils in the chill. Pure delight - just being alive, stretching into wide skies, unchained - swelled inside, itching to break loose. Beside her stood Shadow - a strong, smooth mare who looked born to fly. Not quite black, her coat held hints of silver that danced under light, changing with every move she made. Sun hit it just right, bringing out ghostly flashes among soft waves of grey. Her long mane and tail spilled down like threads pulled from moonlight - full, wild, built for trailing in wind. With a sharp snort, she jerked her head up, defiant; almost speaking - You planning to sit here forever… or do we finally run? Salem, wild-eyed horse with a mind of his own, rounded out the group. That coat - blue-tinged brown mixed with soft gray - he looked like storm clouds painted across stone walls. Dark tiger-like stripes ran through it, almost whispering secrets from old times. Then came splashes of bright white, slashing over his spine and head like lightning frozen mid-strike. Full of spark, never still, he shoved Shadow gently with his nose, grin hidden in his stare. "Come on now, what’s dragging you two down? Catching Zs before hibernation starts?" Raylee let out a soft whinny - pure joy bubbling up. Nope, just soaking in what’s around her. Her eyes flicked toward the huge, calm glow of the morning moon, then swept across the wide stretch of reds and yellows below. Can’t just stay put when a moment feels this right At once, without saying anything, all three horses shot forward. Wind hit Raylee’s face fast - sharp, thrilling - wiping every thought away. Her hooves touched down easy but strong, locking into pace right off, pounding out a steady pulse on the ground. Boom-boom-boom went the sound, step after step, raw strength mixed with smooth flow. She reached forward, muscles tightening then releasing like waves. Underfoot, the earth smeared into streaks of soil and foliage. Gourds - big ones, tiny ones - shot by on both sides. A fat one popped up suddenly; she dodged without thinking, sensing how light she felt, how fast her limbs reacted. This was freedom - clear, untouched by anything else. Joy showed up right here, no disguise. Shadow - dark as an arrow - took the lead briefly, her silver-tinged black fur smudging through the bright fall leaves. Breathing hard behind, Raylee caught the steady rush of air from Shadow’s lungs, the thunder of each hoof slamming earth. Not far off, Salem pushed up fast, his patchwork hide flashing like shifting colors, head high, muscles taut, daring the pair to keep pace. Hold up! Raylee’s mind shouted as she pushed harder, hitting a new stride. Legs pumping like machine parts, her frame slicing smooth through the cool breeze. Air thrashed her hair and tail into chaos, flapping loose against the pale blotches on her side, giving the rush of gliding above ground. Everything shrank down - just soil underfoot, leafy smells nearby, that sharp ache in her chest, also pure joy from running tight behind something real. They darted between the pumpkin rows, moving fast like a wild rhythm. Salem jumped high over tiny gourds, touched down shaky but quick, then looked back with a cheeky puff. Shadow matched it - slipped past a knotted vine smooth, twisting her frame like she was gliding on air. Raylee giggled low, the sound fading into the breeze. She picked her way forward - twisting through the pumpkins slow then quick, dodging left and right like someone who knew every inch. Her steps skimmed the ground, hardly cracking the dry leaves below. Every sprint, every sharp twist, felt alive, wild in its own quiet way. The daytime moon hung there - a soft white jewel in the blue - calm while they laughed and raced down below. As if giving a quiet nod, it watched without words, like a whisper saying keep going. Raylee gasped mid-leap, heart pounding, suddenly aware of how deep the magic ran here - an untamed slice of earth where sound came only from breeze, leaf-shiver, and the drumbeat of their galloping feet. Not one chime, not a shout from far off towns, no barriers except those grown from soil and time. Only open space, raw and huge. They turned a bend in the open land, hitting a low spot where fallen leaves stacked up high, richer in scent, while orange gourds swelled bigger than before. In this stretch, soil gave way easier underfoot, bouncy almost. Raylee drove forward with more fire, sensing raw power flood through her limbs. Each step stretched longer, her feet grazing the dirt like they hardly landed. She wasn’t simply sprinting anymore - more like gliding, moving smooth and strong like water down a slope. Next to her ran Shadow and Salem, each matching stride pulling the trio forward as if pulled by one pulse. They made their way - pretty much without thinking - to the pair near the trees. Barracuda and Severyn stayed still, though both kept eyes locked on the three coming closer, quiet looks passing a kind sort of welcome. When they got nearer, the racers started easing up - first that thrilling sprint softened into an easy lope, followed by a bouncy jog, until it faded into just strolling. Breathing hard, fur soaked from effort, still there was bright joy flashing in their gaze. Warm vapor curled off them, thin trails hanging in the chill, almost like leftover energy from how fast they’d gone. Raylee walked up to Barracuda and Severyn, breathing hard from the run - but smiling big enough to light up the street. “Couldn’t ask for better timing, right?” she said, giving Severyn a quick nudge with her elbow. Severyn’s snowy hair swept over Raylee’s speckled fur. “Yeah,” said the pale horse quietly, tone like wind through trees. “Dancing without music.” Barracuda let out a low, rumbling chuckle. "You certainly made the most of it. One might think the pumpkins themselves were cheering you on." His gaze, usually so steady, held a playful twinkle. "Did you manage to avoid all of them, or did one try to trip you up?" Salem whipped his head side to side, making his striped fur swirl through the air. Not this time, Barracuda - nah - they gave it a shot, sure thing! Still, we’re quicker, sharper than that. With a soft push from his snout, he tapped a round orange gourd close by, like it meant something. Shadow, humming with leftover motion, just scoffed - steam curled out through her nose. "No way they’d win." Yet that spark in her gaze matched his grin perfectly. They paused side by side, air crisp with fall’s smell, skin calming down, pulses buzzing from the sprint. Above, the pale moon climbed slightly, glinting like it understood. Nobody around to break the silence, nothing pulling them away, limits only what the wild laid out. Just wide-open land, bright foliage, tough gourds resting low, endless rush that comes with simply existing. Raylee glanced up at the light-colored moon, down to the dark soil beneath her feet - then over to her pals, coats glinting through patches of sun filtering through leaves. Her world. A canvas splashed with fall colors, where they moved free, loud, full of life. Just then, with the moon hanging quiet in the daylight sky, it all clicked into place, felt good, real good.