It lifted its crested helm to reveal a golden mane.

He rode a magnificent cream mare with a flowing golden mane.

He turned to his love and lifted his other hand to stroke her thick golden mane.

With a flick of the reins, he brushed a fly away from his mount's golden mane.

Beneath his tousled golden mane his eyes were like blue ice.

He took a step toward her but caught himself and stopped, raking a hand through his golden mane, annoyed with himself.

Cordelia reached out her other hand to touch the golden mane.

She slumped forward, her cheek pressed against the horse's golden mane.

By human standards, she was beautiful, with a long, golden mane that would have put many a mare to shame.

Each had long hair which flowed in a golden mane down her back; and despite the difference in age, they were of similar height.