20
In the light of the half-moon, three mares rested on the ground, legs folded beneath them. There were more that stood watch, and a few that grazed a short distance away. The bay stallion kept his distance from the foals, c*****g one hip as he stood on a rise overlooking his band. The yipping of coyotes earlier in the evening had made him restless, but the pack hadn’t wandered their way, most likely flushing rabbits and chasing easier game than a wild horse, even a young one.
Two decades earlier, there had been more room to roam. Humanity, however, had continued their crawl away from cities, constructing buildings and highways, shrinking the land available for the mustangs. Roundups were practiced every two years in an effort to control the herd’s population that called the BLM home. S
