Shane walked into the horse barn, and scratched his head; all the stalls were empty. “Hello...” he called, hoping someone was around. Only the distant crying of cicadas answered him. Closing the gate behind him, he walked between the rows of empty stalls. Maybe someone is in the back.

There was only neatly stacked hay in the backroom. The overly-clean floor, and unopened bag of sweet feed made the workspace surreal. Wiping the sweat from his face, he looked around again before opening the gate to the field. Outside, a fresh breeze gave him some relief. His eyes traced the horizon, looking for any animal or person. He only found the rusty old fence and waving grass. Heading out across the field, he made his way to the pond. If he was lucky, John had decided it was a fishing day. If not there was always a horse or four hiding in the shade around the pond. He could hop on one, and see if he could find somebody.

He was standing by the pond’s edge a few moments later, neither horse, human, or ripple in sight. He hadn’t even seen any cats or dogs. The old barn caught his attention. Maybe the tractor had broken down, and they were working on it ... again. Walking out to the middle of the pasture, he could see the tractor wasn’t there long before he go to it, and no sign of anyone having been there recently. No one inside, or up in the loft either. His plane was still there, that was some relief. He needed to take a day to put the engine back in ... why had he taken the engine out to begin with? Closing the barn back up, he decided to just head over the the house, maybe someone was home.

It was a long way from that barn to the house. They were on opposite corners of the property, and he’d have to climb through the fence too. He hated climbing through barbed wire, it was a skill he had never acquired. He had just turned his back on the barn, when a sound caught his attention.

A lone horse was watching him from the far corner of the barn. Meeting the creature’s eyes, Shane clicked his tongue in greeting to the horse. It perked up at the call, and stepped out into the field, it’s eyes never leaving his. There was a light in the mare’s eyes that told him she was a smart one, beautiful too. He’d never seen this mare before, probably a show horse that someone was boarding with John.

She was black as oiled ebony, lean, but not skinny. There was something magic about a black horse. He had grown up watching the old Zorro adventures, and Toronado would always be his vision of the perfect horse. He’d tried to get his mother to buy a black horse when he was little. She’d lovingly teased him about his wanting a Zorro-horse to play pretend with. She couldn’t tease too much; her own childhood horse had been the spitting image of Trigger.

He admired her gait as she approached. She had a warhorse’s stride and confidence, moving like she was going to walk up and start talking to him. Normally he would never ride a boarded horse, but he just couldn’t resist. Stepping to her left side as she approached, he planted his hand on her withers, and hopped onto her back. She froze up and gave a confused nicker, causing him to ready himself to be thrown off, but she neither bucked nor reared.

“Good girl,” he said, petting her neck. Relaxing into place, he nudged her with hand and foot.

The mare took a reflexive half step at his prompt, then twisted her head around to look at him. Her eyes and ears expressed ‘Are you serious?’ with an intensity that made him think he’d actually heard the words spoken.

“Afraid I’m going to run you too hard?” he asked laughing and patting her withers. He started to nudge her to run again, but she bolted into a full gallop, almost making him fall off her back. Shane laughed once he righted himself. The mare ran smoothly, and he had little want for stirrups. Leaning forward, he let her run where she liked.

They had crossed half the pasture, before Shane started steering her towards the house. She resisted at first, but soon enough she started following his lead. He’d take her to the fence, then walk to the house. If it was his horse, he’d go down to the gate, but he would only indulge so much. As the fence line approached, he leaned back and pulled lightly at her mane to stop. As much fun as he was having, he needed to figure out where everyone had gone.

Horses have tells; little quirks that let you know what they’re thinking, or are about to do. Many of these need no explaining to the observant and the clever. Other tells are plainly seen by those who have been around horses long enough. Then there are those subtle tells that only an experienced rider can feel.

This mare was going to jump that fence, and there was nothing he could do to stop her. Years of experience took over his body as the mare vaulted the fence. It was an impressive jump. In the little moment of silence between jumping and landing, it occurred to him that she might be a steeplechase horse.

He regretted not having stirrups on the landing, but he’d taken worse knocks on the rodeo circuit. A dozen yards past the fence he got her to canter to a halt. Sliding off her, he was baffled that she hadn’t broken a sweat, and wasn’t even breathing hard. Petting her muzzle, he looked her over again as if she was an alien creature. Something tingled in his mind. What he was seeing, and what he was looking at didn’t line up.

It wasn’t just her either. Ever since he walked into the stable the whole world seem strange: too quiet, too still... too lonely. Why had he even gone out to the stable? For that matter why was he even at the farm?

Turning, he looked for his truck in the driveway. There wasn’t even a road, just fallow fields stretching to a distant tree line. The house was there, but something was off. The mare followed him at a distance as he walked around to the front. Shane stared at the stable he’d grown up in ... no, that’s not right. It was supposed to be a house. Was there a difference? He couldn’t remember.

His mind swam in confusion as he stepped onto the porch. The door was open, so he entered without knocking. Inside, it smelled of clean hay and cooking. “Hello?” he called.

“In the kitchen,” a familiar voice answered.

Walking down the line of stalls, he entered the back room. Key Peg was just putting dinner on the table. Celestia already sitting in her chair, had a glass of ice tea at her lips. Setting her glass down, she gave him a smile.

“Welcome home.” Celestia said

Shane’s eyes flew open. Sitting up in bed, he wiped the sweat from his face. The room was sweltering; he’d forgotten to open a window before going to bed. “What a bonkers dream,” he grumbled to himself.

Luna stared at her hoof change back to it’s proper form as the dream dissolved around her. “Humans have the strangest dreams...”