mynightmaresareaboutlosingyou:

_{They say the history of the West was written from the saddle of a horse. But it’s never been told from the heart of one. Not til now. I was born here, in a place that would come to be called the ‘Old West’ - but to my kind the land was ageless. It had no beginning and no end. No boundary between earth and sky. Like the wind in the buffalo grass, we belonged here; we would always belong here.}