The morning sun stretched its golden fingers across the dewy pasture, setting the hills aglow and catching the delicate silver of spider webs spun in the tall grass. A cool breeze swept over the meadow, rustling the wildflowers and carrying with it the scent of honeysuckle and rain-soaked earth. Wynona stood in the middle of it all, tall and radiant, her flaxen mane cascading over her red roan coat like a banner of silk.
She blinked lazily at the horizon, one hind leg cocked in relaxed...
