The Wind Whisperer
This place is dark now. I hear the small sighs and knickers of those here with me. Fear is lessened in the deep silence of the night. And yet the smell is still rank, fear mixed with mud and mud mixed with the water of those caught and terrified beyond what they have known; beyond what I have known. I find my eyes heavy from exhaustion and a torpor that overcomes me after wild desperation. You might wonder what I mean. You may look at me thinking, what could I know but that which is expected. You might just see a wild horse, now captured, held by these bars. Maybe you're listening through the darkness. Maybe you are listening beyond this veil that shrouds our past. Maybe you can just make out our thick shapes and our noses that now press into bars and each other. You see progress, and you see management and protection of that which you have come to value above the wild and free. But do you see me? Do you see my soul and what I was? Let me whisper this story to you. Let me show...