They say before the horse, warriors walked with the land,
Their feet kissed the soil, their spirits grounded in stone.
But one dawn, when the clouds brushed the sun,
A strange wind galloped across the plains.

Out of that wind came thunder—not from the sky,
But from four-legged spirits with fire in their eyes.
The people named them Sunka Wakan — Sacred Dogs,
Born of sky and breath, sent by the Great Mystery.

To the Comanche, the horse was a gift from the heavens.
Not just a beast of burden — but a second soul.
Trained not by reins, but by whispers and heartbeats,
Their bond was woven by silence and ceremony.

Before battle, warriors painted their horses in prayer,
Each symbol a vow, each color a call to the ancestors.
They did not ride alone — for the spirit of the steed
Was part of their courage, their roar in the storm.

The Lakota believed:

"When a warrior falls, he does not walk into the next world —
He rides the horse that carried him through life’s final fire."

To this day, in songs and dances beneath the moon,
They still honor these noble beings —
Messengers of wind, guardians of freedom.

And if you listen to the wind racing the mountains,
You may still hear hoofbeats —
Echoes of a time when man and horse were one.

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