"What about this one grandpa?" A little boy eagerly pointed at a small gray pony with a bushy tail and wide brown eyes. Alex Davis stood next to the old timer chatting about the war which had ended nearly two years ago. The former army private took the distraction as a chance to look around the auction area. He angrily watched as a middle aged man yanked up the head of a tall pinto mare.
'He doesn't know,' Alex growled in his head, 'that horse could have been a war hero! She coulda saved lives!'
"I'm not sure Tom," the old man answered his grandson gently, "he's cute, but you'd outgrow 'im in a year." The two continued down the line of horses. Alex had no idea why he was following them around. Maybe it was because the old man was one of the few that understood him? But that seemed stupid to the younger man, he only met him about ten minutes ago!
"Is this one of the war horses grandpa?" The little boy asked nodding to a horse. Alex's head shot up and he glanced at the horse. It was a small bay gelding who's ribs showed plainly through his dirty coat. He head was down and his eyes were sad, his knees bent and buckling over. This couldn't be one...right?
"He might of been anything," the old man looked kindly at the little horse, "he's got a kinder look than many of these others. Some feeding up and brushing and this old fella will be like himself again! I'll take down his number." The two walked away again, leaving Alex to look at the old horse. The poor creature raised his head and pricked his ears at Alex, pulling against his lead rope with surprising strength. He whinnied and pawed the ground in what seemed to be excitement.
The action brought a rush of memories back when he was training for the cavalry, the dreaded bootcamp. Without realizing what he was doing, he reached forward to touch the horse. The animal seemed comforted and closed his eyes, leaning against his hand. Carefully Alex brushed his tangled forelock away.
Smack in the middle of the gelding's forehead was a brilliant white star, nearly glowing and perfectly pointed. Alex gasped in shock at the marking.
"S...Sammy?" he whispered. The horse snorted. It was! It was Sammy! The horse that had faithfully carried Alex through bootcamp all those years ago! The horse that sweated and worked harder than any of the other horses did and without complaint. He looked different, older even though he hadn't exactly been a young horse back in camp.
His coat no longer shone with brilliance, his eyes no longer sparkled with mischief like the time he had stolen a stable boy's hand towel. He looked slightly happier now, no much happier, but he was the ghost of the magnificent and proud horse he once was. Alex was furious at whoever allowed him to become this way.
"I'll get you Sammy," he murmured in comfort, "I promise old friend."
...
"Next we have number 26, a bay gelding named Sammy. We'll start at the bidding at $60," no one said anything, "$60 for a war hero?" The old man called out sixty, Alex called out sixty-five. They continued like that for a few moments before the old man called out calmly, "One hundred." Alex couldn't afford that, and watched as the auctioneer sold Sammy to the elderly gent.
"Good try Private." The old man held out his hand as he walked up to claim his prize. Alex was gently stroking Sammy for what he knew would be the last time.
"Please take care of Sammy," he said tearfully, "he saved my life once." Saying no more, he disappeared through the barn door with the horse calling to him frantically.
Alex never saw Sammy again.
A/N: *sniff* It was hard to write the ending, but it had to be done. The ending was basically Alex being able to move on with his life and leave the war behind. Leaving Sammy without a fight was his way of saying, "I did all I could in the past. Now it's time to look to the future." Please review and message my lovelies! Love you all!