The stallion pounded the ground with its hooves in a wild gallop, its horsewoman leaning over its neck. With no saddle or bit, the mount flew free, its mane in the wind. Nighttime enveloped the world in its dark mantle. The moon, blond and round, continued its path, an imperturbable curve from west to east, from one mountain to another. The shadows crawled along, raced along, almost swallowing the bare feet of the stallion who thrust  a bit farther ahead, the woman clasping the horsehair tangled in her fingers. With sweat running down her back and along her forehead, she panted, determination