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The Lone Horse of the Jungle”
In the heart of a dense jungle, the soft morning sunlight filtered through the leaves, falling gently onto the ground. The air was cool, and birds were calling from every direction. Along a narrow jungle path walked a shiny black horse, moving slowly and calmly. No one had ever given him a name, because he lived alone — free.
He belonged to no one. There was no bridle on him, no chains. Only open air… and the sound of his strong breaths.
Today, he was heading toward a part of the jungle he had never explored before. The path was thin, the leaves beneath were damp, and an unusual silence surrounded him. Suddenly, a loud sound came from the bushes — “kharrss!”
The horse stopped instantly. His ears stood upright. His eyes sharpened. But he did not run. Slowly, he took one step forward.
Behind the bushes, a small stream was flowing, its water hitting the rocks and making that noise. There was no danger. The horse let out a soft breath — as if blowing his fear away into the air.
He walked to the water, lowered his head, and began to drink the cool stream. His reflection shimmered in the water — strong, calm, and alone… but not weak.
After drinking, he lifted his neck and let out a loud “hinnnhhh!” that echoed through the jungle. As if he were saying:
“I am alone… but I am not afraid.”
Then suddenly, for no reason at all, he began to run. Fast. Very fast. His hooves struck the ground, dirt flew into the air, and the wind rushed through his mane. The trees of the jungle blurred behind him.
He was running — not away from something…
but to feel his freedom.
And from that day on, a story became famous in the jungle —
sometimes at dawn, a black horse can be seen running like lightning along the forest paths…
never caught, never stopped.
Because he is not just a horse…
he is the run of freedom. 🐎✨