Kopler's Adventure

This is a short story I wrote a few days ago... I was in the mood for writing. It's not so much an action-packed story (not at all action-packed, really); I was trying to describe nature and the environment and provoke an emotional response from people that way. Read this if you want to/have the time :)
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It was rare that Kopler would go out on such a chilly morning. The sun was barely caressing the frosty ground, making every ice crystal glimmer playfully. There was snow on some of the trees, yet it had frozen so deeply that it would take much more of that precious sunlight to give the snow back its puffy nature. A light mist was wallowing close to the grass. The only sound coming from afar was the faint whizzing of gusts of wind.

Kopler kept walking, his hooves crushing the ice beneath him. He had a determined walk, slow but steady. The crisp air made his breathing hard and there was frost over the fine whiskers on his muzzle. His flaxen mane, always soft and shiny, was now stiffer than usual because it was covered by a thin layer of cold snow and ice. His chestnut body glittered in the sun.

Most horses would have given up on that journey long before; but Kopler did not. He was not bothered by the frost or the chill. Contrary to what others would think, the Haflinger was happy to be there, on that lonely streak of land. As he strode on, he observed the scarce pine trees which had made this remote ridge their home.

Suddenly, he stopped. His ears were alert and he was sniffing the air. Something else was out there with him. It was odd, Kopler thought, that any other creature he knew would follow uphill, so he decided he best stay on guard, prepared to face an enemy, perhaps. He heard a rustling sound coming from one of the pines. Quickly, he turned his eyes to the tree only to see a cheerful squirrel jump from branch to branch. He was not the only one on that ridge after all. The horse took a deep breath of relief and was glad that his senses were mistaken that time.

He continued walking, evidently with great effort; he got to a much steeper part of the ridge. Every now and then he would glance behind his shoulder. In the distance, far away, he could see a small, green spot which was the valley he came from. He was the leader of a group of Haflingers who lived up in the mountains of South Tyrol. His herd was the most famous one in the area. It was his herd that had been formed generations ago by four of the wisest horses and mares that ever roamed this land. Back then, the mountains were the home of thousands of free horses; at present, wild horses are no longer common. Kopler’s friends and family constituted the largest group of wild horses left in Tyrol. They had survived because they learned to endure harsh conditions and to escape from the taming clutches of man.

Kopler looked up the hill and stronger rays of sunlight blinded him. He closed his eyes and no longer saw the rays of light; yet he felt them, gently touching his sensitive skin, melting the frost from his mane and nose. The air felt warmer by the minute. As if he had absorbed energy from the sun, the Haflinger paced up into a vigorous gallop. Droplets of water now glistened on his chestnut body; his coat shone brightly; his mane and tail glided in the air. The rhythmic thumping of his hooves echoed in the hollows.

What kept him going was not the sun; it was what soon laid out in front of him. He had reached the end of his journey, and also the end of the ridge. Below him were daunting cliffs with sharp edges and creepy caves carved into them… and beyond the cliffs, was a magnificent view.

Basking in the early sunlight in the distance were the distant peaks of the Alps. Like guards surrounding a treasure, they stood aloft, looking down on a peaceful valley where pine trees grew tall and the grass was greener than ever. As though it was created by the hand of an artist, amidst the trees there was a turquoise lake. The trees, the mountains, the sky, and the orange sun were all imprinted on the lake’s surface. With water clear as the air itself, the lake was one of the most beautiful sights Kopler had ever seen.

Kopler was the oldest and wisest of all horses in his heard. He had been a leader for many years and he only brought joy and bliss to his fellow Haflingers. They respected and admired him. His courage, stamina, and wit were unsurpassed. Kopler had left a mark in everyone’s hearts.

He looked at the breathtaking view once more, then smiled. Kopler remembered that his grandfather had gone to see the lake and never came back; his father took over the heard. The same happened with Kopler and his own father…

He felt thirsty and knew there was one place where he could quench his thirst… and he leapt towards the magical lake…

He had known all along this was the last time he would be looking at the sunrise.