His silvery mane blew in the cool wind. His tail fluttered behind him like a flag. His hooves were a deep blue-black and he jutted one leg out in challenge. His opponent was grey with dark patches around his eyes. His wars were slicked down upon his head in rage. His teeth flashed yellow as he dashed upon the sliver horse. Hooves upon hooves collided and teeth ripped flesh. Squeals of pain were heard over the fighting. Soon a horse was down. It was the grey horse. He was older and weaker than his opponent. The silver horse reared high on his strong legs and then came down beside the grey horse. The grey got up and ran, seeking to get away. The Phantom had won again. His herd was safe from the threat of another stallion. He whinnied to his herd and his lead mare came forward. She nickered softly to him, praising him upon winning. They touched noses before jogging back to their head. All was peaceful again.