- Home
- Book Explore
Book Explore
“Nothing, I am afraid of nothing, I am Bull,” he yelled.
Bull’s eyes burst open, coming out of the dream to the
welcoming rays of sunlight and the sight of his green pasture.
His heart beat like a drum, and his mouth opened wide from
yelling in his dream. His muscles were still tensed and
engorged with blood from fighting against the tethers. He
quickly checked his body to see if he could move.
“Nothing,” he said to himself. “Nothing is holding me down.
What were those images?” he thought. “I have never seen or
heard anything so real in my life while sleeping.” Bull tried to
make sense of the night images in his head. But what bothered
him most was what the White Horse asked him.
“Afraid? Yes, I did feel fear last night. But what was I afraid of?
Could it be the loneliness I felt or the helplessness?” he asked
himself. Bull’s thoughts traveled back to his mother and father
and how they disappeared years ago, leaving him to fend for
himself in the pasture.
“I know they would not have left me on purpose,” he said. “I
haven’t thought about them in years. Why now?”
“Is that what I’m afraid of? Losing my family?” he thought.
“Many forest creatures lose their parents. It taught me to be
resilient and strong in the face of adversity. I know they would
be proud of me.”
“Could it be that I have not taken a mate? These heifers are
simple females; I have nothing in common with them. I serve as
their protector, nothing more. Is that my life, serving as a
protector to this herd? There must be more to my life than this;
I can feel it.”
His thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of the heifers
and the flowing water in the nearby creek. The dream images
started to fade and give way to his predictable reality, He
started to regain focus as he turned his thoughts to the duties
of the day. He took a deep breath and smiled as he surveyed
his land. His territory had an expansive green pasture sloping
towards the creek that ran north and south along its most
western border. Across the creek to the west were hills that
buffered the western winds. South of the hills were green
pastures that faded into the southern hills. To the east was the deep
continuation of the light forest and all its glory. All the comforts
a Bull could ask for centered around the faithful Willow Tree
where he was raised. His memories were strong here,
reinforced by the smells and sounds of his homeland. This is
the same land where his mother and father raised him. The
same land where he fostered pleasant memories of always
feeling loved and protected.