The rains had left the freshly plowed field a sodden mess. Tracking the spirited stallion had been easy - until now.
Ian would have sworn he knew all two hundred acres of the family farm, but the barrier before him was unfamiliar. Years of accumulated deadwood intertwined with thorny brush formed a wall as impenetrable as anything man might have built. It seemed impossible the young stallion could have vaulted the barricade, yet here the tracks ended.
Searching for a way through the dead fall, Ian took notice that the swirling morning mists curled back on at this border. Ignoring the suggestion that even nature absented what lay beyond, Ian climbed upon one of the more recently fallen tree limbs. In the short moments that he stood searching the shadows cast by false dawn, Ian felt vines constricting around his ankles. Sensing that if he didn't either retreat or advance, he would become just another part of this unnatural barricade, Ian struggled forward. And quickly regretted his decision.
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