Hey guys ;p this is my first story on here, and also just a small preview of what will be in it. Let me know if I should continue or not... This is set in the future of the story too. Not part of the first chapter... Anywhooooo let me know what you think! :D

~Jean Wildwood

"Major," I cried out, scrambling down the cliff-like hill tripping over the occasional rock. I saw him going over the edge as I was struggling back up after him throwing me. I tried to shake the image of him rearing up as a wolf snapped at his feet; he went too far up and toppled right back over the edge overbalanced. A choked sob escaped my lips as my fear took over for his wellbeing. Midway down I lost my footing and went tumbling down the rest of the way, pushing myself up to my knees and shoving my hair out of my face, I spotted him.

He was sprawled out on his side; his breathing quite labored his usual champagne palomino coat stained black with dirt, only a few patches of the beautiful color shining through. Then there was his mane, the normal platinum colored hair was stained red. I raised a shaking hand to my mouth, an effort to keep the sobs I wanted to release at bay.

"No," I whispered as I rushed forward to him, ignoring the throbbing in my ankle as I went. This couldn't be happening.

Quickly dropping down next to him, I shoved his mane back to assess the damage done, I wish I hadn't. There on his neck from midway down into the slope before his shoulder was a giant gash, I could see muscle. Bile rose in my throat as I stared at it, I wanted to be sick. He must have hit a sharp rock edge as he went down.

I hurried to undo his cinch on the saddle and tried to get it off of him, something, anything to make his breathing easier. With the laceration on his neck the way it is, it's very likely he can't get up because he most likely can't raise his head, and when he can't raise his head; he can't raise his front end, preventing him from getting up.

Snatching my sports bottle from my saddle bag, I went back to his neck and started using the water to clean the cut. The second it hit, he groaned and tried to raise his head.

"Major," I said, my voice shaking slightly. "Put your head down, I'm trying to make you better." As I was saying it, I took my hand and placed it on his face shoving his head down. He fought me a little bit, and then stopped.

"That's a good boy; you have to let me do this now." I kept rambling on like nothing was wrong; in a situation like this it's imperative you stay calm, a horse can pick up on emotions in a second. If you're panicked, they're going to think they need to be panicking too. "You're going to be okay," I continued as I pulled off my outer fleece shirt. Crumpling it I pressed it down onto the laceration and applied pressure to slow the bleeding. "We're going to get you all patched up, then everything will be fine, I promise."

Somehow, I felt like I was lying to him… Lying to myself… That was when the floodgates opened, I was scared and I had no way of contacting anybody I realized as I patted my pockets and discovered my phone was missing. I was miles into the woods and off the trail.

I started sobbing harder as I leaned down onto Major over his neck, everything from the past months flooding out at once. The loss of my parents, the move, the fear of the monster that had told me he would be back for me someday, everything. It all just came at once.

And with that grief, came anger, I had such a cross of emotions I was at a loss. My teeth gnashed together as I sat up and chucked my sports bottle away from me. I began pounding the ground at that point, voicing the same question over and over again. "Why?" the mantra that was on constant repeat. Why did my parents die? Why was I forced to move here? Why did he kill them? Why?

I didn't even hear someone come up behind me.

"Chelsea…?" Somebody said quietly, I froze. My sobs instantly ceasing, how did somebody find me so fast?

I stood then, slowly turning not even bothering to wipe the tears from my face, they'd already heard it. Why try to hide it? I stood close to Major ready to protect him at a moment's notice; nobody could take him from me, they'd have to get through me first.

It was him, out of anyone I'd least expected it to be; it was him.