Chapter 1: In Which I Know My Place

My name is River, and I am not yet three.

You may not know me, but if you are here, then you know my father. He was a hero among our kind, the one who could do it all. He was taken when he was young, and then he met my mother, and he fell in love—his first love. After everything he went through with the painted men and the men who whip their horses, he found her, and he loved her still. I want a mare like that, someday.

My father's name is Spirit, and my mother is Rain. She is a paint, and he is a dun, and I…well, my grandmother says I have the "cuteness genes" which skipped a generation in my father. I whole-heartedly agree (though I think she only says that because we look the same: we both have the same thin face that drives the members of the opposite sex insane, and big fluttery eyes that stare at you like this OO. Well, no. Maybe more like this oo. Yeah, that's more like it. We're both palomino as well, only mommy says I'm sexier because I'm a paint. I love it when mares indulge me.)

"River!"

I snapped out of my daydreams. "No!"

"What?"

I looked around. Father was giving me that look. I hate that look. It's the way your mates look at you when you insist unicorns exist—like your completely insane and they can't decide whether your dangerous and they should stay away, confused and they should help you, or stupid and shouldn't even bother to rehabilitate you. Yeah, that look.

"Are you alright?" he asked, trotting up beside me. "Do you need to lie down?"

I glared at him. I hate being treated like a baby, and that's pretty baby-ish. "No, I don't need to lie down, thanks."

"You seem…off today," he insisted.

"I'm not off and I don't need to lie down! I'm a big boy! Big boys don't take naps or lie down next to their mommies!"

"That's not what I—"

"Sky, race you to the giant tree!" I shouted before father could finish. I was not in the mood for nagging. Rephrase that. I was not, am not, or ever will be in the mood for nagging.

Sky stared at me with a mouthful of grass. "Yer on!" he said, chewing it once and swallowing. "On four. FOUR!"

We sprinted off towards the tree at the center of the valley, as far away from my father as possible. Of course, Sky won as he usually did, but I didn't care. I never win, so I quite trying years ago. I'm not much of a runner.

I had been to that tree many times in my almost three years, but never had I seen anything like this, and never had something affected me so much (except maybe the time my hoof got stuck in a lag. I was only a few days old, and until now I have this paranoia of dead trees).

Standing in the grass was a mare—a chestnut mare, with a flaming red mane that spilled over her slender, curved neck. She was unlike any of the horses I had ever seen. She was graceful and petite, and her tail looped forward over her haunches. And what was on her back? Wait a second…is it eating her back? Holy hooves it IS!

I reared up and neighed loudly.

"What are you doing?!" Sky said, hopping back a few steps. "You gone MAD?!"

I dived down the hill, Sky at my heels, towards the mare with the half-eaten back.

"STOP IT YOU MORRON!" Sky shouted. He lunged at me and knocked me to the ground.

The mare whinnied and jumped back, and a small head lifted up off of the ground.

I tumbled around in the grass for a while, nipping at Sky and flailing my legs.

"I'll let you up if you promise not to be an idiot!" he shouted.

"It's eating her!" I shouted back, staring forlornly at the mare.

"It's…what?" he glanced at her, then rolled his brown eyes and nipped my neck. "It's a saddle, you moron! It's not going to eat anyone. IT'S NOT REAL!"

"What?" I asked.

He pushed himself off of me. "My apologies for my friend, miss," he said to the mare. "He's all mane, no brain."

"Am not!" I snapped.

The mare laughed. "It's all right. No harm done."

The little head stared at me, those big green eyes boring holes in my forehead. Its mane was as red as the mare's—redder even—and it fell strangely over its shoulders. Its face was covered in freckles, just like Sky had, only they looked better on him. All and all, the thing looked…well, I won't lie. I thought it was going to kill me and have me for dinner.

I nudged Sky. "What's that?" I asked, jutting my head out in its general direction.

"That, my friend, would be a little girl," he replied.

The "little girl" stood up.

I jumped back. "It's hideous!" I shouted.

"Excuse me!" the mare snapped. "She's mine, and she is not hideous. She's rather good looking compared to the other people they have on display."

"There's more?!" I stuttered.

"Aren't they beautiful, Ruby?" the little girl said, awestricken (and who can blame her? I am a heartthrob, you know).

"I think they're rather gruesome, actually," she said, shaking her head in disapproval. What can I say, she had bad taste.

The little girl crept close to me and reached out a split hoof ("hand" I think they call it. Maybe not…hans, hatch, hat…something of "h").

I pranced back nervously.

"You hurt her and I'll kill you," Ruby said, whinnying softly.

I stopped prancing and shut my eyes. "Don't kill me, don't kill me, don't kill me," was all I could think. Then something soft touched my cheek and a little voice whispered, "There, there, beautiful. No need to worry, I'm not going to hurt you." She breathed onto my neck and kissed it softly.

I had never been at home in the wilds of Cimarron, finding my way through the dark nights and suffering through the harsh, freezing winters. I was never cut out for that kind of thing, where as my father—well, he's perfect. So naturally, people have high expectations for the only son of their fearless leader. It's a lot to live up to, isn't it? Especially for an easygoing steed like me. To sum it all up…I was lost.

But the second that little girl touched me, I knew my place.