Irreantum Blog Archive on March 18, 2010, 9:00

by Sadie Rooke, age 16

I awoke with a name in my ears, a tumbling, galloping name. It rolled along a warm breath that left my mother’s lips and ruffled my fluffy mane.

“Irreantum,” murmured the mare, nudging her little foal’s head. He was nestled in close beside her in the warm summer grass. The sky stretched above them, soft and violet and edged with storm clouds, but here they were safe; in their little hollow of grass.

She nuzzled her foal’s downy head and loved him. He was golden brown like autumn grass, with great splashes of moon that shone on his legs and

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