Good day, fellow equines! Emma here, a sturdy grey draught mare from the lovely Hayfield near Aberdeen in Scotland. The wind is nipping at my hooves today, but a good pile of oats and a bit of sunshine will chase away those chills. Now, settle in, as I'm going to share with you all the happenings of the year 1386, a time that was both bustling and full of promise.
The year began with the air smelling crisp, as if the world had woken from a long sleep. I could feel the anticipation in the stable - our human companions, the sturdy men of Hayfield, were making preparations for the annual ploughing season. As always, I was one of the chosen ones, my strength and patience well-suited for guiding the heavy plough through the unforgiving soil. My heart swelled with pride, knowing that my work contributed to the bounty that fed the people.
It was during this time that I caught the scent of unfamiliar horses – they were noble steeds, tall and lean, with sleek coats that shone like burnished copper. These were warhorses, it was said, from down south, where a grand battle was to take place.
Later that spring, after the land had been sown, there was a great commotion in the village. It was time for the Royal Gathering at Aberdeen, where King Robert II and his court would come to celebrate with the people. A royal hunt, always a grand event, was a main feature of these festivities.
That year, a rumour spread through Hayfield: the King would hold his own personal race, challenging the noble knights and squires to a display of horsemanship and speed. As the day drew near, we watched as a fine young mare, her coat black as midnight and as fast as a dart, was chosen for the task. Her name was Lady Willow, and it was said she had travelled from distant lands to prove her skill.
I could feel a spark of competition stirring within me. Lady Willow's prowess had captured my attention; my grey coat might be less grand, but my power and stamina could not be matched.
The day of the royal hunt arrived, a sea of colour and noise. The hunt took the riders far from Hayfield, through rolling hills and lush forests. We all did our duty with a fierce pride, but it was during the grand race that I felt a thrill unlike anything I’d ever known. The air buzzed with energy, and the ground quaked with the hooves of each racer. It was as if a storm of power and grace had swept over the field.
Lady Willow’s form was breathtaking; her black mane whipped in the wind as she flew past, a streak of elegance against the sunny sky. But she was a fast horse, and I was strong. My heart thumped a steady beat, and with a surge of determination, I pressed onward.
As the finishing line loomed, I pushed myself harder, leaving my energy and determination to carry me forward. To my astonishment, the crowd cheered as we crossed the line together. Lady Willow, though slightly ahead, had won my heart with her tenacity, and I had proven that I could keep up with a queen of the track.
Our victory was not without a reward, as both Lady Willow and I were recognised for our strength and skill. But the best reward of all was the feeling of pride that coursed through my veins that day.
From then on, life settled into a familiar routine. But it wasn't a dull routine by any means. I enjoyed my daily duties – pulling the plough, hauling supplies, and carrying hay – as a part of a community where everyone depended on everyone else.
And in the quiet of the evenings, as the sky shimmered with stars, I would often dream of racing once more, my spirit stirred by the echoes of the royal hunt and the memory of that powerful, black mare. Who knows what adventures lay ahead? Perhaps a chance to meet her again, perhaps a new challenge to test my strength and speed… or perhaps simply the satisfaction of being a vital part of this rich and vibrant life we lead as horses.
So that’s how it is here in Hayfield, my dear equine friends. 1386 was a year of change, excitement, and satisfaction, one that I shall never forget. Perhaps in future, we shall meet again here in Equiworld. Until then, happy trails and gentle grazing.
