Prologue
Blood streaked down the filly's face as she ran flat-out, trying to escape the horrors running behind her. Her powerful torso heaved with each ragged breath, her long legs flashed out behind her. She knew that she didn't have much more stamina in her - the Percheron breed is meant to pull heavy loads, not race like a Thoroughbred, after all. Her long, black mane and tail whipped behind her in the wind her strides were creating, dust plumed beneath her hooves, and blood pounded in her chest and her ears. Fear told her that she couldn't stop. Reason told her that she couldn't keep going, that it would be pointless to die of exertion before she could even lift a hand or hoof to fight her pursuers. No, she would have to hide. She had at least one advantage - she knew the ancient desert valley better than anyone. Her pursuers had never set foot there until about a week before. She knew she had to use that advantage for all it was worth. Putting on a last spur of speed - and adrenaline - the filly splashed in the surf of a massive lake taking some solace in the cooling of her legs and hooves in the water. Turning sharply at a hidden canyon, she shifted form, albeit too early, her momentum causing her to skin her knees. The cursed, but got up before any blood could stain the rocks and give away her position. She smoothed down her simple cotton dress, threw her long black braid over her shoulder, and climbed nimbly up the rocks and into a crevice that adeptly concealed a large cave. However, she was not one to take risks, and began to chant under her breath. To anyone outside of her Clan, the rock wall was now solid where the slit used to be. As she tended to her knees with another chant, and drank the clear water from a small spring in the cave floor, danger amassed outside. But she was safe, for now.
Outside the filly's clever hiding place, a pack of wolves shifted into a group of men and women - formidable warriors. They looked around the dead-end canyon, yellow eyes searching for any sign of the filly or where she could be hiding, but she was much too thorough and smart to leave a trace of herself behind. As howls of anger and frustration rose from the group, a satisfied smile spread across the filly's dirt and blood streaked face...
