The road as rough and sometimes hardly a road at all, and they came to a couple of hills that required a little extra effort, but Mike found that he did not mind even the hills. The longer he plodded along next to Dan, the more natural this all felt. The straps had been a little odd at first, but now the bands of pressure were almost unnoticed. His pace matched the other Shire's perfectly, and when they made turns, Mike just knew how to adjust. At first, Mike thought he was a quick learner, but the familiarity of all this became too complete. He knew this road, remembered that it led to a large farm a long way from town. He knew Dan's scent, the feel of the road under his hooves, even other roads and paths all over the area that he and Dan had pulled wagons to. Except that this was the first time he had ever done this.
[It's good to be a horse.] While he did not actually pick up words, the thought came from Dan clearly enough. Mike felt the other horse's mind reaching out, touching his. The link must have formed earlier, which was why he felt so comfortable. The mental contact was easy, relaxed, like the hand of a friend on your shoulder. Mike couldn't quite figure out how to respond, so he just plodded along and let Dan's pleasant and contented thoughts drift through him. [It's good to be a horse. No cares. No worries. No responsibilities. Strong, big, healthy.] After a while, he wasn't sure if the thoughts were Dan's or his. If anything, the work got easier. He seemed to be even stronger, more massive. Mike felt mild puzzlement. Something was different about his body. He turned his head back to look, and then pondered things a long time before it finally occurred to him that there was no difference between him and Dan. Before, the older horse was a little thicker, more muscular. Now he and Dan were identical in every respect. Mike had matured to become a work horse in his prime, physically adapted to his job. And it was more than just his body. Although he still remembered himself and his past, Mike found that thinking was not something he did a lot of. He drifted off into contentment, secure with the presence of his herdmate, then 'woke' miles later. [It's good to be a horse] He no longer questioned the source of the feeling - it was his thought now, as sure as grass tasted good and the sun was warm.
They finally reached the farm, a huge expanse of fields tended by serfs. The Lord of the manor came out to inspect the wagon load and the two men chatted. It took Mike a while to realize he could not understand a word they were saying. Men came to unload the wagon, and Mike stood there calmly with Dan. Their scents were almost matched now, nearly identical stallions of the same age. No longer young, but with years of service ahead. This was all familiar, routine. It wasn't until Liam got back on the wagon and turned them back the way they came that Mike started thinking at all. As they started the long trip back, he almost slipped into the contentment again, but something nagged at the back of his thoughts. A mature horse. Stronger, mellower. Older. That last thought caught. in his mind. Older. He was strong and healthy, not old. But older than he had been when they started. Horses did not live a long time. Not as long as humans, to be sure. If he stayed a horse, he would die of old age sooner. Mike struggled with the concept of death. Was it important? He was sure he used to understand it, but now it was hard to concentrate on anything complex.
The periods of contentment got longer, and thoughts got fewer as they plodded back to town. Liam took them back tot he stable and unhitched them, then turned them loose in the corral behind the stable. Mike and Dan found patches of grass and the water trough, then relaxed in the setting sun, grooming each other with their teeth. Mike enjoyed the old, familiar ritual, the bonding with his herdmate of so many seasons. Seasons. Years. He struggled to get his mind working. It was so easy to just be a horse. Why resist? But he kept at it, until the nagging thought got strong enough to finally understand. He was older. he would die of old age as a horse in what - ten years? fifteen? The realization helped clear his mind some, though he still felt the desire to just be a stallion. Mares, clover, the use of his strength and mass, a life of dull contentment. If he let go of the faint fear, he knew it would never return. Already it was hard to think beyond here and now, much less grasp any complex ideas. Once he accepted this last fact of being a horse, he would never worry about it again, for he would no longer be able to conceive of age or death. Sex, food, sleep, work. Instincts and physical needs as the only driving forces of his life, and he was certain that it would be one of contentment.
Dan was pressed against him, the two resting heads on each other's rumps. They were identical twins now, even their scents matched perfectly. Was this what Mike wanted? He knew what it was like to be a horse now. Not just for a day, but for a lifetime. Human memories and thoughts were so feeble that he almost doubted they existed, and he felt them flicker even more. If he stayed a horse much longer, that was all he would ever be.