300+
At first they had run. The heavy summer air passing over his face and through his short cut hair, light and dark paws clutching the dark mane of the roan. His light form seated on her back as if he sat upon a throne. It was an honorable place, and he felt righteous to take such a seat. It hadn’t been much effort until the mare allowed him to sit on her back, and even less to get her to trot and gallop. She wanted to run, and such a word was an unsatisfactory description. The roam female wanted to fly. Hooves glided over the soft grasses as if each pace was meant to lift her from the ground and take to the sky. The male could only do his best to hang on, coxing her right and left with his legs.
Legs shook as he dismounted and fell to the ground, chest to the sky and gasping for breath as if he had ran that fast and that long. The pair was beyond their packlands, and Heath took a moment to regain his breath before standing to search his surroundings. It was a familiar place, and the memories of it were laced with a bitter sweet taste. As he rose he found the weight of the rope he wore around his chest. His intensions were lost in the wind that they had ridden through, but Lumière had brought him to the very place they had met. The creek could be smelled, and the tall grasses flowed like an earthen tide beyond his gold gaze. The mare had moved out of sight and to water. For a few moments Heath only stood, the adrenaline slowly leaking from his veins.