08/05/2025
"The Moonlit Steed"
Long ago, when the moon still sang and the stars were closer than they are today, a mother named Akecheta had a foal named WíyakA. They lived under the great sky, where the earth was still untamed, and the winds whispered ancient truths. Akecheta, meaning "The Protector," had a sacred bond with the Earth, one forged in fire and light, passed down through the generations.
Every night, beneath the glowing face of Grandmother Moon, Akecheta would whisper stories to her foal. The stories were not of kings or battles, but of the horses born from the stars—WíyakA’s ancestors. They were mighty and free, with manes woven from the very breath of the wind, hooves that echoed like thunder, and eyes that saw into the soul of the world.
One night, when the moon hung low and golden, Akecheta led her foal to a quiet meadow. The grasses swayed like waves, and the air smelled of cedar and sage. WíyakA was no longer a child, but the young horse still had much to learn.
“Mother,” WíyakA asked, “why do you wait for the moon to rise before you speak to me?”
Akecheta looked up at the moon, her face glowing in its soft light. “Because, my child,” she said, “the moon is the keeper of secrets, and her light is where dreams are born. I wait to share the wisdom of our ancestors, for the moon helps our words reach the stars.”
That night, as they stood together under the shining light, WíyakA felt the earth beneath his hooves tremble. It was not from fear, but from recognition—he had heard the song of the stars, and now he understood the meaning of the stories. His mother’s love was as ancient as the land itself, and as enduring as the moon’s steady light.
The next morning, when the sun rose, WíyakA was no longer just a foal. He had become a creature of the stars and the earth, ready to carry forward the legacy of his mother and their people.