It was like movement felt in a dream.

She was being impelled upward when her body seemed immovable as stone.

When her blood beat down this deadlock of an her physical being and rushed on and on through her veins it gave her an irresistible impulse to fly, to sail through space, to ran and run and ran.
And on the moment the black horse, Spades, coming from the meadow, whinnied at sight of her.

Ellen leaped up and ran swiftly, but her feet seemed to be stumbling.

She hugged the horse and buried her hot face in his mane and clung to him.