Introduction

My name is Skylyn; I have brown hair like my mother and brown eyes like my father. My father is a colonel of an army or something; he deals with wild horses. My mother? She died when I was 5, so after that my father became the colonel. My father, he can be cruel sometimes. The only time I think I've ever seen him truly happy is when my mother was alive. When I was 15 I got my first horse. She was a paint horse, black and white with a blonde mane and tail. I named her lily. The other horses that my father has captured and tamed had their mane and tail cut to a short length and had the symbol "US" imprinted onto them. I forbade my father from ever doing that to lily, she didn't belong to the US.

Chapter: 1

The stallion

I was by the stables, petting the horses when the large wooden doors to the "fort" opened. I saw men pulling in a stallion by ropes. This was normal so I just went back to petting the horses. And a couple moments later I heard a gunshot. I snapped my head towards the direction. I saw my father on his horse, a pistol pointed towards the air in his hand, with smoke coming out of the tip of the gun, signally that the tip of the pistol was hot and could easily burn whatever it touched. "What seems to be the problem, gentlemen?" "We got us a crazy one here, sir." One of the men that were pulling the horse said. My father got an intrigued look on his face and got off his horse. He walked over to the stallion, and pressed the whip (or w/e it is) under the horses chin. "The army's dealt with wild horses before; this one will be no different." My father said. The stallion then took the whip in its mouth. The whip was snapped in half and the horse threw it to the ground. My father picked up the whip off of the ground and dusted himself off, even though there was no trace or sign of dust. He was arrogant like that. "Duct this animal, sergeant." "Yes, sir!" the men said and pulled the stallion to where he would be shoed and his mane and tail would be cut by Murphy. It was a shame to see this done to that stallion. Not wanting to see the stallion being stripped of his freedom I went to someplace in the fort which was my room. It was small, but, it was enough.

Moments later I came back out. I saw the horse tied to the posts, his mane cut shirt and his tail trimmed, but I didn't see the symbol "US" imprinted anywhere on its body, and Murphy on the ground with a black eye. The stallion still had one drop of freedom left, and he could use that to get out of here. "Not the stables. The coral." My father said. "Sir?" one of the men asked. "It's time to break that horse." And so they brought the stallion to the coral. They put a saddle on his back, and put reins on him, much to the horses disliking. One of the men got on the horses back and a moment later came flying off his back just as easily he got on the horse. And one by one as the men got on the stallion's back, the horse bucked and kicked, and the men went flying off and hit the dusty and dirty ground with a thud. "sergeant." My father said. "Yes, sir?" "Tie this horse to the post. No food or water, three days." My father said. "Yes, sir."

Chapter: 2

The Lakota Indian, little creek

And so, the stallion was tied to the post, all through the day-with the scorching heat- and to the night. I was in my bed, all I could hear was that horse trying to get away from that post. And then came morning, bringing the heat with it.

I was outside with my father. He was drinking water from his canting. The stallion stared at the water as some of it dropped out of my father's mouth. "We caught a hostile!" I heard one of the men shout. Two of my father's men were pulling in a Native American by his arms. They pulled the native up to my father and I–well mostly my father-. The native was thrown to the ground and he landed on his knees. His hands were tied behind his back. "Well, what do we have here?" my father asked, probably already knowing the answer. "We caught him by the supply wagon, sir." Came the reply. One of the men pulled the native by his hair and made him look at my father. "Ah, a Lakota. Not as tall as the Cheyenne." My father said. The Lakota glared at my father, but then he looked at me and his gaze softened. "Take him away, gentlemen." My father said. "Take him to the stockades." "Not the stockades, the post. No food or water, three days." My father said. "Father!" I said. How could he do that?! The Lakota was a human, not a horse for god sakes! "Quiet, Skylyn." My father said to me. And so they took the Lakota and tied him to the post.

The Lakota Indian was called little creek apparently. When my father or any of his men, I would sneak him food.

"Miss Skylyn." "Yes?" "Your horse." One of my father's men said. I turned around and saw him holding my horse by her reins. "Oh thank you, put her in the stables please." I said. And he took my horse and put her in the stables.

Finally came the night. I had my bedroom window open. I could see the stallion and little creek. Then came the sound of a horn. My father's men lined up in rows. I heard something about "hostiles heading north". "How long has it been, sergeant?" I heard my father ask. "Sir?" "The mustang. How long has it been tied?" my father asked again. "Three days, sir." "Good. Fetch my crop and spurs."

The day came and brought the sun. I was outside by the coral like the rest of my father's men. My father was on the back of the stallion as it bucked and kicked. No matter how hard the horse tried, my father stayed on its back. The stallion tried so hard, to get him off its back, but, my father stayed. The stallion then started to ram against the fencing around the coral, but my father did not fall off. And then finally, the horse gave up. It stopped bucking and kicking. The horse panted.

Chapter: 3

Broken? I think not And escape

"You see, gentlemen, any horse can be broken." My father said, and made the horse walk forward. I couldn't believe it! Did he actually break the stallion? "They're those in Washington who believe the west will never be settled." My father said. "And that the pacific railroad will never reach Nebraska." My father then looked at little creek. "The hostile, Lakota, will never submit to providence. And it is that manner of small thinking that say this horse could never be broken. Discipline, time, and patience are the three great levels." Then the mustang neighed and took the reins in its mouth. The horse started bucking and kicking again. The horse rammed into the fence and the strap on the saddle snapped and my father fell off, but still held onto the horse by its mane. The stallion then flung itself backwards and fell on part of the fence, it broke. The horse sent my father flying. My father's men helped him up. And the horse stood back up. The stallion hadn't been broken. "Get off me!" then all the horses in the stables started neighing and whinnying, even mine. I smiled, seeing that. "Soldier! Secure that horse!" my father shouted. Then my father took a pistol from one of his men and pointed it at the horse. What was he doing!?! Just about my father was going to the trigger, little creek, somehow got off the post he was tied to, and knocked my father's arm, making the gun fall out of his hand. Then he swung onto the horse, kicking one of my father's men in the process. The horse started running, with little creek on him. They passed some horses, breaking the post they were tied too. This was an opportunity for me to escape this place! I ran to the stables and got my horse lily. I got on her back and started towards the entrance. I reached the side of the stallion and little creek as they ran. We reached the large wooden doors, but someone was closing them,; Murphy. The stallion and my horse stopped galloping. Then the stallion pushed Murphy to the ground, and the stallion galloped through the entrance, with little creek still hanging on him. Tons of horses trailed behind them, including me and my horse. Then the horses went their separate ways from the stallion and little creek, and I. then little creek made a howling noise. What was he doing? Then a paint horse came into view. The horse looked like lily except it was brown and white and had a feather in its mane. Little creek jumped from the stallion and onto the horses back and stopped in front of the stallion, even me and my horse.

Chapter: 4

"Captured" by the Indian little creek

Then came two Indians riding on horses from behind the stallion, my horse, and I. they threw ropes around the stallion's neck, and then around my horse's neck! Then one of the Indians came up to me tied my hands together with rope. What were they doing!?! Little creek looked at me. "Might as well take you too." Little creek said. "Why?" I asked, agitated. "Well you are beautiful." Little creek said. I heaved a heavy sigh. First I was trapped in that fort, I almost escaped! And now I'm being "captured" by Indians. They then started pulling us in the direction of their home.

It was night when an Indian campsite came into view. Then they pulled us into a little ring. They took the ropes off the stallion first. Little creek took the reins off the horse. I carefully got off my horse. Little creek then turned to me. He took my tied hands in his and gently untied the rope.

((so? I'm going to continue this chapter later.))

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