The Guest Barn

John’s Barn - Bighorn Basin, Wyoming

Perrine emerged from the underground community and made his way up into Johnathan's house. He closed the secret entrance and concealed it appropriately. Once again topside he breathed a sigh of relief. He was alone, and he nurtured that moment to look about the rooms on his way out the building. He was just glancing about the decor, paying attention to the reminders of life before living off the grid.

He stepped outside, following the path to the old barn where Luna, his faithful horse and friend, was waiting. The interior of the barn was a patchwork of time-worn wood, the scent of hay lingering in the air. It was peaceful and sheltered, a reprieve from the cold night air.

Luna greeted Perrine with a low, welcoming nicker, her large eyes reflecting a sense of companionship and trust. Perrine returned her greeting with a gentle pat on her neck before beginning the ritual of brushing and grooming. With practiced hands, he carefully removed the dirt and sweat from her coat, their silent communication a bond that went beyond words.

As he worked, Luna responded in kind with subtle shifts of her body, the rhythm of her breathing, and occasional gentle snorts. Their connection was built on understanding, and Perrine knew Luna well enough to recognize her moods and preferences.

After the grooming was complete, Perrine set up a comfortable palette on the barn floor, using his camping supplies. Luna, always watchful and alert, nudged him gently with her muzzle, a silent reminder of their shared routine. Their dialogue continued in the language of horses, an exchange of trust and unspoken affection. He also took the time to fill her in on the happenings beneath the surface.

As the evening descended further, Luna lay down in the straw-covered floor of the barn, her powerful form gracefully folding onto the ground. Perrine rested against her, his head nestled against her flank, and the two companions exchanged soft, wordless conversations, speaking through their shared presence. Sometimes they would have long conversations about all sorts of things, but tonight they were both tired and just enjoyed the warmth and silence that accompanied their quality time.

Above, in the rafters of the barn, Whisp the barn owl was asleep, satisfied after a midnight hunt, his feathers rustling gently with each slow, steady breath.