Moonlight Fight

• Jessica Mooney, Grade 6, Birregurra Primary School
• Short Story
• 2010

Finalist in the 'Something With Bite 2010' competition

Their manes were thrown back and all etiquette was abandoned in a high speed chase across the field. Even as they approached the white post and rail fence they didn’t show any signs of stopping. It was only in the last few metres that they checked their stride and lifted their heads. It was night and the friendly moon was high in the sky lighting their path. Five across they jumped in unison, they formed a perfect arc over the fence not daring to tap it. Without the slightest jolt they landed soundlessly, now single file they slowed to a trot, not quite peaceful though.

They came to a sudden halt, sides heaving they walked cautiously around the carpet of rusty metal traps used to catch the pesky rabbits that wandered the forest at night. Ahead in the faint light that filtered through the canopy, there stood a magnificent mare. She had a golden coat and silvery mane and tail, her head was shaped like an Arab’s but it had the sweet honesty of a Clydesdale or Gypsy Cob, but her hooves and fetlocks were ripped and bloody she wasn’t a bush pony like the others. Beside her basking in her glow was a scared looking little thing, but it had her eyes and ears, fine tipped and moving delicate in every direction. The foals coat was an odd sandy colour in the moonlight. She and her foal were the prize.

The Killarine horses took their places at the end of the line and waited for the huge piebald to speak. The other horses were whispering among themselves about the stunning mare standing in the centre, “Is she worth it, I mean look at her legs?” one asked “Of course she is, look at her face.”
“Humph, how come we can’t look like that,” said another.

“Right then,” the piebald boomed over the crowd who immediately fell silent. A handsome black stallion reared up in his line, challenging. After a while he said, “No-one,” “No-one at all,” said the piebald sadly. The mare glanced at her foal then at the black stallion with fright in her eyes. One of the Killarine horses, tossed his head thinking it over, finally he stepped forward. The piebald looked up in astonishment form the ground. Picked up a tattered rag in his mouth and waved it. The two horses advanced on each other, pacing the muddy ground in dizzying circles. The grey horse reared up catching the black stallion just above his eye, blood poured momentarily blinding him. The grey horse caught him in the deathly grip on the withers but had to let go when he lost his footing. They paced for hours trying to exhaust each other. Finally the black stallion dropped his head preparing to attack but the grey was to fast he struck him again between the ears. It was too much to take for the exhausted black who dropped to the ground and lay resting.