My Little Pony
...
The young girl, who's name is Cossette, screamed as the carriage was rattled violently along the path, the horses fueled by fear and dispair. She braced her small form against the floor of the carriage, her hands flat against the seat and the side of the door. The girl wished the coach-man would control the beasts. She called his name loudly, demanding he pull over. But when silence met her words again and again, she wondered if he had been the loud thud on the roof awhile ago.
She knew she could do nothing to calm the horses, and jumping out into the snow would be like jumping out into the mouth of the wolves. So she closed her eyes tightly, folding her head into the lap of her red dress.
The horses turned a corner sharply, neither of them knowing where to go. But such a turn made the carriage they pulled turn, and it fell over on one side, throwing the passanger along with it. One of the horses was snapped back to the ground at the impact, and it broke three of its legs. Making loud, miserble whinnys, the horse on the ground tossed its head, kicking his left front leg in vain. The other horse stood still, unable to walk with the reigns tightly around its body. This horse stood with huge eyes of fright, its large heart racing under its sweaty chest.
Luckily for the girl, she had her hands over her hand when she was sent to the opposite side of the carriage, so the only damage she had was a large bruise on her arm, and a few cuts of her legs. She also had a long tear on the bottom of her dress. Tears filled the little girl's blue eyes, and she climbed up the seats and opened the door outward, then drug herself out with her hands.
Looking around, Cosste d'Auverge saw the wheel-and-hoof-tracks were already vanishing under a fresh, God-knitted blanket of snow. She put her hands around her face and called for her coach-man. But no answer came.
Turning towards the horses, she walked over and put her hand on the standing one, and gently un-reigned and un-hitched it. She ran a hand down its flank affectionately, then checked its sex. "You poor boy.." she cooed. The horse flinched under her touch, but did not try and bite her, so the girl climbed onto the horses' back and grabbed hold on its mane. She clucked softly, and the horse started walking briskly down the road.
Because they were leaving it behind, the horse on the ground let out a loud, pained neigh, the snow already burrying half of its body.
But the girl did not look back.
Cossette steared the horse down the path, eyes searching the forest for any more wolves. The wind stirred her hair like pasta in water, white flakes like dandruff slicking to each strand. Her cheeks were turned red as the chill sucked away her body-heat, her nose ran warm snot which itched as it turned solid against her skin.
The horse started limping half-way down the road, causing the run to be rough and painful on both ends. The girl made the horse stop and she walked behind it as she had seen stable-men do, and she picked up each foot in turn, clicking her tongue and saying softly, "Pick up!" From each foot she removed at least three rocks or pieces of wood. Though the horse probably felt better, the girl did not get back on because its feet had also began to bleed.
She took the horse by the reigns and lead the way, her eyes wide with fear for the unknown.
...
