Hoofs pound at the edge of morning. Bronte, all fiery breath and flaming tail, gallops across the sky. East to west she thunders, in that horse cohort, hauling Helios’s mighty chariot. Her cargo? The Sun itself! The golden orb burns, turning her velvet coat radiant. Light – lustrous and life-giving – refracts across flank and muscle. Heat – welcomed far below – encircles Bronte as she races on, on, on, into the majestic crest of the day. New silken shapes now glance over her body, gleam, and prance, as she journeys on towards the end of the evening.