The wounds were still bleeding. Some were infected and exuding puss. He had scars all over, from head to tail. He jumped. He bit. He wheeled around ready to take flight. He was always looking for an escape.
The carriage door slammed. The children, a boy and a girl, and a man were paused next to the carriage.
The pony took off across the field. The man was huge and intimidating.
The pony got to the other end of the field limping and shaking more than before. He did not see the man. But the children were still there. They were staring at him. They were staring at him as if they were mesmerized.
The pony's handler went into the field. He tried to run away but she surprised him as he was staring at the children. She brought him out of the field, and she was not kind to the pony like the children were used to. Their world revolved around horses and how they were valuable for so much more than money. They were loyal and companions.
The girl tried to come near the pony but he shied away. He did not like to be touched. His skin hurt too much for it to feel good. The pony was bruised all over from being hit, whipped, and kicked. Anything making contact against his skin hurt like salt water in a bleeding cut.
The girl backed away. Her face was scrunched up. The boy knew that she wanted to cry, but she would not do so in front of such cruelty and people where it could be used against them. They were not only had wild magic from their mother but were trained by Lady Kel and Uncle George. They knew how to use a Yamani Mask and manipulate to get what they wanted
The boy stopped looking at his sister. He returned his attention to the pony.
The pony was quaking with fear. Every time his handler came near him he got hurt. All women must want to hurt him since he was always hit by one. He couldn't make himself stand still for even this human girl-child to come near him if could get away.
His handler tied him to the fence and walked toward the barn, no doubt getting the saddle and bridle that only aggravated his wounds.
The pony looked back at the boy. The boy was still watching him intently. Never before had the pony seen that look on someone. His face was not angry like most humans. His face was one that showed kindness, something the pony was not at all used to seeing
The boy walked closer. The pony felt something try to settle his mind. It was the boy he realized. The boy is part People.
The boy waked closer. He moved so slowly he felt like he was not moving a foot faster than a sleeping slug. But finally, finally, he reached the pony. His hand slowly went to the pony's muzzle and just let it barely rest there, giving the still frenzied pony a way to escape even though he was tied.
"It's ok now," The boy said. "My name is Rikash. She will not hurt you any more. You're mine now."
As the boy repeated this over and over the pony's trembling slowed and came to a halt.