Some time later, the screeching sounds came again, and the room stopped vibrating. We had stopped, making some of the less alert horses stumble again. I had quickly realized that by splaying my feet out, I could brace myself and stand comfortably still; Ghost had done the same. Little Shifter had been dozing for most of the trip, and I would have been doing the same had the dull brown mare not insisted on snapping at me every so often.
I heard noises from outside the room, shouting at others about something or other. Eventually, the ramp was lowered and light flooded the once dark room. I craned my head around as far as I could with the rope's restraining length, trying to see what was going on. Two-leggeds were swarming around the room in no time, untying the horses with equipment on them first. I watched with both fear and interest as they led them down the ramp and outside.
Finally, a couple two-leggeds came to untie me, and I decided I had better not fight until I was out of the room and on solid, unmoving ground. It was awkward walking down the steep ramp; I hadn't had this much trouble going up it. My hooves slid, as the ramp was damp now. The air was colder, and I imagined it must have become damp due to the warmth of the room. I was more than happy when I stepped off the ramp, and went in a circle around my two-legged, so I could see the commotion that was coming from inside the room.
Ghost was acting up.
You would think he would have been smart enough to wait until he was outside to fight, as I had done...or, was going to do. I was much more interested to see what the two-leggeds would do in response to his actions. There were two handlers on him already, and two more scurried up the ramp a moment later, one of them carrying a long stick with a rope on the end. The one without the stick grabbed onto a rope that was swinging freely from the horse, and the one with the stick approached Ghost.
He raised the stick, and lowered it quickly across the silver stallion's rump. A loud crack came as it hit his flesh, and Ghost stopped moving for only the briefest of moments. He then reared as high on his hind legs as the room would permit, and spun around, kicking one of them two-leggeds directly in the stomach. The two-legged was launched backward into the side of the room, and Ghost charged down the ramp, dragging the other two still holding onto the ropes with him.
The one with the stick again slashed him across the rump, and again the crack sounded. Ghost screamed in rage, rearing on his hind legs again and lifting the two-leggeds with the ropes into the air. He came down, and then went straight up again. And again, the stick-two-legged brought the stick down upon him, this time on his shoulder. Ghost must have decided it was time to give up on the rope-holders, because he suddenly turned on the stick-two-legged with flattened ears and an open mouth.
Just as he was about to sink his teeth into the two-legged's shoulder, it brought the stick down viciously upon Ghost's face, repetitively. After several beatings, the silver stallion finally subsided in his sheer fury. His head lowered, and he followed dociley as the two-leggeds led him past me; he was bleeding from many a places.
I would never see Ghost again.
