The wind walked across the vast expanses of the prairies, touched the peaks of the mountains, ruffled the branches of trees and touched the grass. The bright sun shone in the blue sky, illuminating the green meadows where the Cimarron Herd grazed. Wild mustangs grazed peacefully, and little foals played merrily, trying not to run too far from their mothers.

The spirit stood on the top of the hill and closely watched his herd so that no danger could harm his family. He closed his eyes for a second, inhaling the clean, cool air.