A short story by Sam A Border
The stream meandered happily through the impossibly green meadow, dragonflies and damselflies flitting back and forth hovering inches above the dappled surface, unseen brown trout rising to feed, creating swirls and eddies in the slow moving water, the distant call of a white tailed eagle propelling wild eyed buck rabbits to their does and kittens.
He hears her, but pays no mind, her call is familiar, almost comforting, a reminder of another time…….
He drinks deeply, deep brown eyes never leaving the horizon. Raising his head he stands tall, icy water dripping onto his pure white chest, he knows this place, so foreign to him yet so familiar, the place he……..
Camouflaged in the shadow of the tallest crag…
He breaks into a lope, the same stride a wolf uses while on the hunt. covering ground quickly, effortlessly….
He hears it, the whistle. a sound so familiar, so powerful to him he almost stumbles, in the same instant like a bolt of white lightning dazzling him to his very soul.
He sees her.
Onyx black fur, glistening like satin under the first rays of morning sunlight, she moves, crouching, gliding, stalking, her eyes locked on the ram, this fearless beast, lord and protector of his flock now unsure of himself under her gaze, she inches closer, dominating him, daring him to challenge her authority, at the sound of the whistle she feints toward the overhang, her own life now in danger, instantly the ram bolts and the flock follows him away and up the knoll to safe pasture.
No need for the whistle now, the flock are safe and moving, she drives them up through the pass toward the farm….. she stops unexpectedly and turns her handsome face slowly to the wind, she has picked up a scent, his scent. now searching hard for the source,
He runs to her……..
Joy explodes from her with such ferocious power her heart stops for an instant, she calls to him
my son…come to me…I am here