Don't Play With Fire Part Two: A New Home By: EeveeFFwriter Disclaimer: I still own all of these characters! Wanna use one? Ask me first. Chapter Five I re-materialized in a crowded, noisy place. Wood and metal bars reached up towards the ceiling leaving little room between. The lack of space alone discouraged any jumping or as impossible as it seemed for a sturdy ponyta climbing. The ground beneath me was an uneven mixture of moist clay and crumbly sand. I assumed the sand was there to soak up the excess moister and avoid rotting our hooves, however, there was so little of it that the effort was simply wasted. Both the sand and the clay were a monotone gray, which matched very nicely with the bars. I wondered if they planned it to be this depressing or if it just happened. Humans of all ages peered and stared at us through the bars as if we were merely possession and not living creatures. A few had kind features and understanding faces, but most wore greedy frowns or cruel smiles that twisted up the lips. After awhile I was forced to turn my head away in disgust. These human creatures had no sense of modesty, of privacy, that I could see. They simply stared and jabbered. There were about a half dozen despondent creatures locked in the pen with me. I recognized one or two from my herd, but the rest were strangers. They looked so downtrodden that I opted not to get aquatinted or approach any of them. Not when the circumstances were so bleak and unpredictable. I'd rather not feel the pain of losing more even if the friendship was newly made. A gray rapidash sidled towards me slowly pausing to browse on a piece of dirty hay or scratch his leg. The whole time he kept one eye on me and one eye on the humans staring in. I assumed that he didn't want them to notice that we were to talk or plan. His mane was a dark gunmetal gray and set in a short ridge that ran down his short, powerful neck. His tail was a few shades lighter towards the end and resided in a short fashion that was almost a bob. Like the rest of him his horn was stubby as was his black zebra stripped legs. His eyes were a dull brown, but hidden underneath the plainness lucked a sparkle of intelligence. It was like a 'gator that lurked just beneath the surface of scummy mud to snap at the unfortunate prey. I wasn't sure if I was the prey or not but I watched carefully. "Hey boy, what's your name?" He asked after a short pause and gave a fugitive look around. His voice was deep and I attributed it to the fact that he was at least two years older than I. Barging on he said in a low voice, "Mine's Smoky." I pondered briefly whether or not it was wise to take up this conversation. In the end my need to talk to someone, anyone won out. Still numb from shock and slightly confused I decided it was much better than being lonely, "I am called Windstar." "Windstar? Whew, your mother had no lack of imagination, huh. Do you have a nickname at least? Windstar is much to formal in my opinion." He boomed good- natured and I was beginning to wonder if talking was worth this. "No," I said levelly answering in intrusive question. After all, who was he to judge my name or poke fun at it? Already he was starting to annoy me, "It is just Windstar. I assume you can remember that." I knew the last remark was a bit harsh, but how do you tell someone nicely that they are an unfeeling idiot? He blew it off as if he didn't know what I meant and continued on in his bland, loud way. "Well, let's see. Windy and Starry are girls' names so we can't have you going by that. You're no sissy that's for sure. Perhaps just Wind or Star? Wind doesn't sound quite right so how about just Star." He jabbered on paying no attention to me and asking himself rhetorical questions. Nodding to himself he sound satisfied that he had mutilated my perfectly good name into a ball of gas stuck in the sky, "Star it is. Sounds much better that way. Short and simple." Hoping to change to subject to a more productive one I asked glancing around from beneath my eyelashes in case the people were watching, "Where are we? The last thing I remember is being hit with a red and white sphere on my shoulder." He sidled up closer without actually appearing to do so. He seemed to be making up his mind how much to tell me. Something about my ignorance had severely unsettled him enough to reconsider association. He dropped his voice and replied, "You don't know. I took you for one of my herd, but I see I was mistaken. The name should have tipped me off. Our herd has so many youngsters that it's natural that I don't know them all... Still, I should have known by your speech. You must have been captured in the secret valley outside of what use to be Cinnabar Island." "Cinna what island? Where is that?" I questioned with a confused look passing across my face. There was more than one herd that the human's had pilfered? It was bigger than ours? That's not what the ancient runes had told. I had had the impression that we were far superior to all others and the chosen ones of the Gods. This conversation had rudely blown my beliefs out of the water. "You don't know anything do you? What with being locked up in a tiny valley all your life? It is off the coast of Pallet. You don't know where pallet is, do you? Don't you remember the roundup Team Rocket had just four years ago? You may have only been a foal at the time, but surely you must remember that." "No," I shook my head to emphasis my answer and hide my confusion, "Never. It hasn't happened before. If it had Fireheart would have told us, warned us, or made a plan to save us." Smoky looked at me sadly and replied gently, "It has happened before and it will again. Your herd must be the one where they were experimenting with an extract of butterfree's sleep powder. It is rumored that the extract mixed with the right ingredients can make one forget specific things. We, at my home plain, have always known our fate. Now you know yours." Chapter Six "Why are we here then?" I asked feeling foolish and befuddled. Why did the human's want us exactly? Smoky gave me a level look as if he was sizing up my intelligence and demeanor before replying in a carefully neutral voice, "They have captured us to do work for them. To be slave to their whims and desires with unquestionable obedience." "What kind of work do they want out of us?" I persisted ignoring the cautioning look I received and feeling like the most annoying colt in the world. Even more so than my younger brother who use to follow me around like a second shadow asking to most ridiculous questions imaginable. "All sorts of things. They use us for hauling stuff that is too heavy for them. They even make useless competitions for hauling logs around cones. They also use us from track racing. The richer ones bet on the winner and the first three to cross the finish are awarded prizes. Or rather their masters are. There is also harness racing, carrying, and much more. Some even keep us a pets." I wondered what a pet was while he continued on with his little rant, "The very worst, however, is when they make you battle against other pokemon for money. You don't want to be bought by a trainer. Never would I wished that on anyone." I chewed that over and was about to wander away from Smoky to do some serious thinking when two human males started up a conversation near by. It had caught my attention and as I listened closer I realized why. They were speaking of Smoky and I. Excusing myself from Smoky's company I edged over to get closer. My ears were cocked towards them, but I looked at them from the corner of my eye lest they realize I was observing them. It seemed that some of Smoky's excess caution had worn off on me. "What do you think about the black un, Chris?" The first man said casually studying the wooden rail. He was dressed in tight blue jeans with a red flannel shirt. Boots made of leather covered his feet and a cap covered his head. It had a picture of an electrobuzz on it. His frail human skin was weathered and tan although I judged him to be fairly young, just coming into his prime. His blue eyes were trained on the grains of wood below his hands, however, his voice was kind enough. The other man called Chris looked over at me. He had a cruel mouth that twisted into a smirk and his eyes were hard as onyx and just as black. His neat black hair was parted back and his fair skin was smooth and pale. "Maybe there's some potential there. He looks like he may make a decent racer at the least." At the end of his sentence he spit a chunk of chewed up something across the aisle. "Well then, what about the stocky gray one? He has the makings of a good cow horse mark me that. Looks manageable enough unlike the rest of these wild basterds." The other man suggested this time referring to Smoky. "If the bidding don't go to high I'll definitely get him. Possibly the black one too." Chris slurred slowly and added pushing himself off the rail, "Let's go look at the rest of these pathetic mudders. There has to be a few more good ones." I wondered what the bidding was and what a mudder was. My thoughts were cut into when a speaker blared over my head and two wranglers approached the pen. All the horses around me started milling nervously and rolling their eyes. Exhaustion had driven them to rest, but now they were getting worked up again. I could practically taste the air of unease. A rope sailed passed me with a sharp whistling sound and latched onto another ponyta's neck. He reared and fought but eventually the humans won. In fact they won every time as the ponyta's were evacuated whether it was meekly or in a blazing fury of teeth and flames. Soon only Smoky and I was left. They had a few casts at Smoky. Each one missed by mere centimeters as he dodged aside. Giving up for the time being on him they turned their unwanted attention on me. I tried imitating what Smoky did except I was far more clumsy and inexperienced. The first loop whooshed by, as did the second. Soon I had the hand of it and the men were spitting out colorful words at me each time they missed. "Hey kid, watch out. They're going to throw all together." Smoky's warning come too later. I twisted around the first loop and the second slapped hard against my neck raising a welt. The third went up and over my head settling uncomfortably around my neck. It tightened to the brink of unbearable and they lead me out of the corral with persuasive yanks. I learned quickly that a rope was not something to fight with if you valued breathing. Within the span of a few minutes I was secured and led into a noisy ring. People surrounded me as I blinked in the bright light that was raining down from the ceiling beam above. The crowd was making an awful din with all of them screeching and yelling at the same time. Nervously I tossed my head jerking at the bridle, which was firmly wrapped around my face. The man holding me murmured softly and patted my shoulder with gentle reassurance, Surprisingly I felt like I could trust him for all it was worth. Trembling, I leaned against him as the man on the wooden pedestal to the left started blabbering out unintelligible words. His words set off the entire human crowd for they were waving their hands madly and shouting for all they were worth. I was beginning to think that this was a council of war rather than the selling of property. There was certainly enough physical damage done to each other with fists. Within a few moments, maybe less, the utter chaos died down a bit until there were two people left. One I recognized as the man Chris. His hard face was cloaked with intense concentration although the sneer had not left his face. Beside him sat the other man in the electrobuzz hat. His eyes scanned at the competitor across the room and a small smile played across his lips as Chris battled it out. It was then that I realized they were together. At least the auctioneer shut up after slamming his wooden hammer down three times and shouting one word, Sold! It was then I truly realized what transaction had taken place. I was sold to Chris the cruel. Chapter Seven After a long, tedious ride crammed in a large trailer with three other horses including Smoky, I was set free into a paddock. Another horse was put in with me and then Smoky was placed next to my pen with another. His usual cool demeanor looked severely shaken and his ears were cocked in alertness although the dull look in his eyes had returned full force. I introduced myself to the other unfortunate in the pen with me. He was polite if distant and nervous. He named himself Iceshadow. He was from my herd if a few years younger and was a solid black just as our sire was. His mane was a slate gray mingled heavily with pale blue. He moseyed over to pick at the bare grass on the other side of the fence. "So you made it thus far, huh, kid? That was the easy part let me tell you. Buckle down for when that bratty human starts our 'training'." Smoky said without preamble but still keeping a wary eye on Iceshadow and the mare he was sharing his pen with. They both seemed fairly listless and harmless to me. The intelligence had resurfaced and I found myself wondering just how smart he was and just how much he actually knew. His mud brown eyes regarded me for a second before he rambled on in an unhurried way, "I suppose you'll be put to the track. I get to work with the stupid cows. Oh how fun that will be. Fast work for the both of us." I listen to his morbid chatter with half an ear. My eyes wandered around the surrounding pens and buildings. There was scant grass and most of it was outside the fences. In its place was dried hay. The sweet smell drifted around heavily and I thought wryly that at least he wasn't stingy. The wooden corrals were chest high and looked to be very sturdy. I shoved an experimental should against one and it didn't move as I had hoped it would. The top pole was but one of many, however, it was improbable that the others were loose if this one was tight. I considered testing another when two men came sauntering around the corner of a nearby building. The first left off leaving the other on a direct coarse to our pens. Padding by his side was an orange creature with black stripes that froze my heart with fear then made my pulse quicken in anticipation of battle. Rearing up in a screaming fury I was fully prepared to trample the young arcanine, for surely it was a puppy since it lacked the distinct size and grace of a fully-grown dog. My challenge was harsh and full throated scarring the daylights out of those around me. The young monster dog lunged forward and I readied myself to trade blows until death. Okay, so I was being dramatic, but before me was a killer and instincts took over. The anticipated battle never came however, for the furry creature stopped shy of the fence and called out in annoyance shrilly, "Shut yer yap, will ya? Gawd, ya make 'nough noise ta blow out meh eardrums. Landsakes." Puzzled at his refusal to fight I dropped down to all four feet and regarded him thoughtfully. He didn't seem inclined to attack or lunge at my throat, but just in case I backed up slightly and tucked my chin down towards my chest to protect it. "See what you've gone and done? Already you're scarin' them horses. Behave yourself Skip me boy or I'll leave you home." The man scolded although his words were tough his tone was light and not in the least reproachful. He kept a wary eye on me the whole time as if I was the dangerous one. "It ain't my fault Master." Skip whined with his large ears flat. The human obviously didn't hear him or understand him. The dog shot me a look filled with hateful daggers before retreating back a few steps. The man approached me in a slow way. Softly he whistled a nameless tune and held his hands where I could see them. I retreated back beside my companion Iceshadow and stared at him from under a stray wisp of mane. He eased himself against the rail continuing to whistle and placed his booted foot on the bottom rail for balance. Who wouldn't when all you have is two legs and you tip over so easily? He fumbled in his shirt pocket with a hand before pulling something out in his closed hand. Slowly his fingers uncurled revealing a wrinkled palm and something in lump shape, the color of snow. It smelled good and sweet. I feared a trap but curiosity won over fear and I found myself inching forward towards the man. He held his hand still as I drew closer. Stretching out my neck and fearing it would not be enough to reach the morsel I was forced closer. Brushing the foreign object with my velvet nose I deemed it good enough to ingest and poked further. Lipping it carefully I pulled it into my mouth. The flavor was indescribably pleasant and it washed over me. Sugar it was called as I found out later. The man touched my nose with his hand while I was occupied startling me. I jerked my head back and eyed him reproachfully. He laughed and then murmured in a soothing voice producing a piece of apply from his bountiful pocket. My caution was overcome by greed and I returned to him. Soon, many treats later, I allowed him to stroke the ridge of my nose and scratch my ears where the mane parted. "Poor, na•ve kid. Star, you have no idea of what you are getting yourself into by trusting that human." Smoky tsked from behind me. Briefly I wondered if he understood what he was getting into by not trusting this human. Chapter Eight "Listen, we got off to a pretty rough start. I'd really like for us to be friends rather than enemies." I coaxed with my head over the top rail. The growlithe had been annoying me with his skulking and hateful dirty looks. I'd bridge the gap between predator and prey just to get him to stop. He, however, was not in the mood to bargain because he snapped at a passing fly baring his teeth at me in the process. "Friends?" He questioned snidely with a hint of scorn his black eyes flickering between the corner and me. It was discovery he feared yet he didn't want to seem weak by looking away, "Ye belong ta my master's master and therefore ye belong ta meh. Why would I wish ta make friends with a dumb horse slave that is so far below meh?" Technically, he too was a slave so that would put us on an equal plane if the laws of fairness were right. Unfortunately life is not fair and this was one of the infinite instances. He had more freedom than I did and in turn, he had a slight bit of power over me. While I was trying to figure out his flawed logic and what had brought him to it footfalls reached my ears. "Skip, git your dirty, flea-ridden carcass away from that horse this instant!" Chris bellowed catching sight of the orange dog. Skip played his part as the suck up dog whining cutely and rolling a beseeching eye for forgiveness. Chris took no notice of his act striding over and aiming a kick at the dog, "Hank, keep that dog of yours away from them. Those wild ones spook far too easily for my liking. I paid good money for them and it would be a waste if one were to be injured." "Yessuh." Hank said meekly with his eyes averted. He snapped his fingers and Skip ran to him. Hank patted the fluffy head and assured, "He'll be good." I noted that he'll be good wasn't the same, as he'll go away. Hank used them interchangeably and Chris didn't notice. He dismissed it and approached the fence. Smoky, Iceshadow, and I cowed away to the back. Even Ginger Root, the placid mare, backed away. "Have you stared yet Hank? I want to get to work the star spangled banner over there right away. He has the makings of a good race horse, but he needs to start training now if we want to enter him next season." "Got to him yesterday." Hank said slowly before I realized that they were speaking of me. Hank fished around in his pocket and pulled out an orange cone. Taking it for a carrot I stepped forward slightly but caution and fear held me back from rushing in. "Good. What are you plans for the gray one? The chestnut? The other I plan to have as a harness racer. He seems to have the temperament for it." Chris continued, identifying us by color. Would I be Star Spangled or Blue from now on? That was not a thrilling prospect, but there was no way to tell them different since they didn't seem to understand pokemon. The humans talked some more and I turned doubtfully to my companions. Ginger Root was looking around bleakly with her dull chocolate colored eyes. Her brown mane was sagging, as was her head. Over the last week, she had gone from being extremely spirited to the poor broken thing that she was now. Her food went untouched if I didn't remind her to eat it and her coat that was once a fiery orange had dulled to chestnut. A yell brought me back out of my thoughts and to the humans' loud conversation, "I don't care one whit! The chestnut will not get any babying here. From you or anyone else. Time is money. She needs to be ready for the steeplechasing. Use some medicine for Christ's sake! That's what it's there for." With that, Chris stomped off in a fine fit of fury, aiming a kick at a passing meowth, and hollering the whole way about ungrateful wretches. The feline added a yowl of protest to his noise and Skip started barking making a ruckus. Chris' bossy wife stuck her head out the window screeching like a banshee and demanding to know what all was going on. She also scolded him about booting her favorite barn cat and he snapped back that the thing was ugly anyway. Hank shook his head and donned his baseball cap like a helmet. He walked up to the fence and addressed us four legged occupants calmly, "Gotta pick up the pace a bit like oh Master Chris ordered. Sorry we didn't have more time to get to know each other all that well. Just so I don't have to call y'all Horse, I'll give you some names. I'm sure Chris will give you some nasty, intimidating names in the future when you start winning, but you'll remember mine first." So I was getting a name? Two names? I, again, wished that the humans weren't so dense otherwise; I could tell them I already had a name. "You." Hank pointed to Ginger, "I'll call you Firefly. You remind me of those pretty little sparkly bugs. A nice pretty orange one." Firefly? I suppose there were worse names in the world, but humans had such limited imaginations. Who wanted to have the name of a stupid bug with a life span of weeks and the intelligence of an onion? I was glad it wasn't I. "You will be Smoky." He continued pointing incidentally to Smoky. It was then that I realized I had not idea what Smoky's true name was. Smoky was just a nickname he had acquired. "You're much too nice for a dirty name like Soot or Ashes." He stopped to study me with his pale eyes. I could practically see the wheels turning in his head. He was struck by an idea and I could see it. I'm not sure how to explain it to someone who has never witnessed someone struck by an idea except to assure you that there is no pretty light bulb floating over their head. His body did a strange jerk and his eyes seemed to light up with inner enlightenment. A broad, proud grin covered his face and he pronounced me Galaxy. It could have been so much worse like Smoky's 'Star'. I could live with the name Galaxy. Chapter Nine My training came and went with surprising swiftness. Hank was a patient teacher and I a quick student although we didn't cover the gates as well as I'd have liked. Soon I was running mock races with the other to-be racers Chris had bought. I won most of them once I got the hang of it and victory was nice. Except that it wasn't really victory because I hadn't run in a real race just yet or won one either. Winning was nice like I said and it wasn't something I'd experienced much before coming here. At home I was always pushed aside or simply not interested in competing. Here it wasn't an option. Smoky's voice directed my mind towards him as it took on an impatient tone. His training as a cow horse hadn't been going nearly so well and let's just say it wasn't for lack of understanding on his part. He simply didn't have any inclination to co-operate. The people thought him slow and stupid so I suppose his act was working as he intended. Even with his brilliant plan, I could see Hank wearing away at the edges and weakening his resolve. That human just had a way about him that made you want to work. "...Tomorrow." Smoky said peering closely at me with bright, calculating eyes. He was waiting for a reaction and I had no idea what he had just been saying. "Sorry, what were you saying again?" I demurred politely and he snorted at my open admission to ignoring him. I could practically guess what was running through his head. It was something along the lines of 'that Star, he'll never pay attention or damn that boy. I'm giving free advice here.' I've heard both many things before too. "I said," He started with impatience, "Tomorrow is when your petty little career takes flight. Listening now? Good. They will probably load you up in a pokeball; it's easier that way, to transport you there. No trucks I'm afraid. Don't be surprised to find yourself in a strange stable with strange horses. Hank will be there with you and his mutt Trip. Chris as well although you'll see little of him I'm sure." Trip was Smoky's nickname for the surely growlithe. It had come about when Skip had somehow managed to trip over his puppy paws while driving the cows with wild threats, taunts, and the like. He hadn't forgiven the stiff bout of laughter from us horses and appreciated the nickname almost as much. "Here they come now." Ginger snorted from beside me. She had gained some confidence although I noted she stayed by me almost all the time. She was more adjusted and lively now and it made me wonder if I should let her cling. The sheen had come back to her coat and her flame burned brightly. I wished her mental health was doing as well as the rest of her. Sure enough, Chris, his oldest daughter Kathie and a stranger were striding up. The strange young man had a bridle in his big hands as well as a thin whip. Chris pointed to me as soon as they reached to fence. He commanded something sharply and the young man nodded his shaved head in agreement. Suspecting that something was up Ginger and I retreated to the corner of the pen as far away as possible. The man approached careful not to make any fast movements revealing that he was knowledgeable of horses and their habits. That could spell trouble. Strapping the bridle on and slipping the bit into my mouth he gave my neck a pat and Kathie a smile. The saddle and all the rest were next. As soon as I had tacked up he took the lead and led me forward towards the other two. Ginger paced nervously behind me. The young man grabbed her as my reins were handed over to the girl. "Are you sure you want to try to ride him?" The stranger taunted in a friendly way but his smile was mocking, "Girls are better suited for geldings more so than high spirited stallions. It's not to late to back out." If he were looking for evidence that his little statement had scared her it would be a long wait. She bit her lip in vexation and her dark brown eyes flashed in annoyance as she retorted sweetly, "I'm sorry you can't deal with your own shortcomings, but that doesn't give you the right to pin them on me. We'll find you a nice, quiet gelding with some years on him if you'd like." The young man scowled deeply and retreated. It seemed his wits were as dull as his bland features for he had no witty comeback. Kathie patted my nose gently then swung up on my back. It jerked a bit at the unaccustomed weight but it was a lot lighter than having one of the exercise boys up there and I wasn't complaining. That and the metal bit pulled my head down from its place between my teeth. I was fine up until the moment that she dug her spurs into my tender flesh. The horrible pain of sharp metal being embedded in my taunt skin and muscles was excruciating. It was sharp, cruel, and not ending. I gave a bit of a jump to loosen it and Kathie tried to remove it but the steel was stuck fast. The more I tried to dislodge it the more painful it became. Soon the pain was so maddening that I jumped and crow-hopped which soon turned to real bucking. I tripped around the corral making Iceshadow leap out of my way and stumbling aside when Smoky warned me of the fence I was about to plow into. With one finally jerk and heave the girl spilled from my back taking the hateful spurs with her. They were sticky and dark with blood. My blood. She arced then gracefully tucked into a loose ball before landing on the ground with a thump. "Kathie!" Chris shouted running into the corral his spurs jingling noisily and spooking me further. I shied halfway making the thick lather of sweat that streaked my back and neck fly everywhere. Chris turned on me furiously cursing and shouting, "Damnable horse!" I'll give you to some passing trainer after that stunt. One that won't give a rattata's ass whether you live, die, or are ill! How'd you like that brute?" Meanwhile Kathie had gotten up and was dusting herself off carelessly. Her dark blue jeans were dusty and a little torn as was her shirt but no real damage had been done. She shot her father a contemptuous look and said icily, "No you won't, Father. He'll mine and I have the papers to prove it. That was completely my fault. Hank warned my not to wear the spurs, that Galaxy here wasn't use to it, and I ignored him. Why waste a good horse just because of a measly little accident in which I wasn't even hurt? Especially when the horse couldn't help it. Honestly, that temper will be the death of you or at least your business." "You should sell him to a rodeo. I heard they pay good for buckers of that quality." The boy hooted, "They want those first class broncos." I didn't know what he meant by the terms 'rodeo' and 'broncos' but they sounded evil and the tone he said them in was hardly reassuring. Chris' reply did little to hearten me. It seemed he was angry with his teenage daughter for speaking to him as such and I was the scapegoat, "I might just do that one of these days. You hear that horse? Better watch your step from now on." Chapter Ten I had won. Not by much to be sure. Only a nose had declared me the winner as I sped under the finish line with a pack of racehorses on my heels. First, I was finally first. That had been my second race so far and I had needed to win it very badly. Perhaps that was why Silverstreak, a rising champion, had came in second. He was nice enough for a rival and experienced enough in the ways of cruel men to know of my need. He himself had been sold three times until he landed under the care of a poor, but kind trainer. The kindness had been rewarded for Silverstreak lost few races. More problems had arisen when I was taken to the track for my first official race. The pokeball had made me a tad sick and some drugs were administered. The vet had deemed it as normal and assured Chris that this sort of thing happened all the time. Especially with horses new to the confinement of pokeball and the strangeness of stables other than their own. Chris wasn't appeased in the slightest. He cursed me anyway and uttered the same dire warning as before. It seemed he had taken a personal hatred to me and I wasn't sure why. True I had thrown Kathie off but she herself had pardoned my actions as excusable. So I was sick. How could that be helped? I'm not in charge of how my body feels if something that loathful is thrust upon it. Then I had stalled at the gate when it was thrown open and all the other horses streamed out straining to get in the lead. Kathie took the whip to my flank and that got me going quick enough. Catching up was tiring, however, and by the end of the race I had only gained on one horse that seemed to be as slow as I was. It was then that the shadow crossed my path. I shied taking out the poor horse behind me. We fell in a heap. I felt a rider crushed beneath me as I struggled to get back up on all four hooves again. When everything was untangled and the other horse had risen to him feet there were two riders lying on the ground. The other horse's rider groaned and slowly dragged himself up. Kathie groaned but she didn't move. Her face was scrunched up with pain and a shallow cut adorned her pale face. I curiously limped over and snuffled at her face. She pushed me away weakly with one hand. Then Chris came out screaming like a banshee. He shouted horribly causing the other horse to shy and toss his head wildly. I jerked back and almost accidentally stepped on Kathie. Appalled, I backed up carefully and watched for a safe distance of a few yards. She was taken away on a stretcher as Chris plagued the paramedic with non- stop questions. The man snapped and reported that she had fractured a few ribs, whatever that means, as well as sprained her wrist. There were multiple bruises and cuts, which you'd have to been blind not to see, but some how they were deemed unimportant. At least not important enough to mention to Chris. Not that I'd want to answer to him when he was yelling like that. He has a way of unnerving people with his voice especially when he's shouting. Chris had hit me after that. He waited until all the other people left the stable that night and then he hit me with his fist. It hurt and I supposed that he had hit as hard as he could. I stepped on his booted foot on accident and he acted like it was on purpose. He screamed and hit me again and again until I got off. After that he restricted himself to cursing at me from outside the stall. He once threw a currying comb at me. Luckily it missed by centimeters and bounced harmlessly off a water bucket with a loud, hollow boom. I suppose it should have made me angry, but instead it confused me. Why was he doing this? It was a waste of energy and his balled up fists hardly hurt at all. That brought out Hank and Skip. Hank looked tired and his eyes were blood- shot. He tried to reason with the frothing Chris anyway. He said that it was my first race and I was allowed a mistake or two. Chris gave him hell about the 'mistake' I made, but he continued blithely in the voice of reason. He also pointed out that I just need some more practice and time to adjust. Chris spat at those words. I mean he literally spat and it hit the wall before oozing down to the dirty floor. More favorable replies were thought up by the tired Hank and rejected by the idiot Chris. In the end it was Kathie who saved me. "Galaxy is Miz Kathie's horse. Ya can't sell him without her permission." Hank said with finality. Chris growled and stalked off in a snit. To drink himself silly I'm sure. He sure did like that stuff the humans call liquor. It made him mellower, but it seemed... unnatural to me and I rather have him flaming mad. At least then, I knew it was him talking and not the booze. Chapter Eleven I was on healing leave for the injury I had sustained during a race and I had been shipped back home for a short break. My ankle had sprained one and half- lengths from the finish line in a big race. I stumbled and managed to stay upright until I crossed it winning first place. I had learned the hard way what happened if my rider went down. I did not want to incur Chris' wrath again. I was well into the season by now and had the hang of it. I had won the majority of my races and even loud Chris couldn't say that I was a looser. Kathie had gotten much better and she rode me everyday in training. The human vet said that she was to take it easy until she was fully ready to run with me. Not that I minded all that much. Racing was exciting and honorable, but Kathie and I both needed a break. I was winning, and it was not through the sympathy of others. Smoky leaned companionably over the fence. His body was all lean muscle now and it seemed that Hank had breached his walls. He did what he was told although he admitted that he enjoyed the barrel racing a lot and hadn't expected it to be so much fun. He had won one or two competitions so far. Mostly small country fair type things but Chris had always been impatient, or at least that's how it seemed to me, and I figured that Smoky would be moving onto the big leagues soon enough. Iceshadow was gone somewhere or other at a race. He, like I, had been chosen as a racehorse and that kept him on a busy schedule from race to race. Ginger was gone though. I came back to find her stall completely empty and her manger taken away. In her place was a surely gelding named guess what, Star. He bit me the last time I tried to introduce myself and I missed Ginger's quiet shadowing. Smoky said that she was sold in my absence to a cute little girl with pigtails, but I wasn't so sure he wasn't just trying to save my feelings. "Now, the goal is to get the fastest time just like it is in racing. Instead of going straight, you..." Smoky jabbered on oblivious to whether or not I was actually listening to him. He was a nice guy, but boy could he talk- endlessly. A strange staggering motion caught the corner of my eye. I turned my head in the direction I glimpsed it so I could see it clearer. The creature was a half- grown meowth that was all legs and head. It was plump by the standards of the barnyard and there was a bright pink ribbon tied around its neck. The real barn cats were feral and wild, but something about this one scared. It scared me so bad I was trembling and my neck was lathering up. Its walk was jerky and uncoordinated. Once or twice, it slammed into a solid object before staggering on as if it hadn't seen nor felt it. Slowly it weave across the yard with pupils dilated and teeth bared in a perpetual snarl. My new mate in the pen with me watched it with wary eyes before high-tailing it to the other end of the paddock. He was frantically pushing against the bars with his shoulder heedless of the sharp spears of wood digging into his chest and the blood oozing out slowly. Smoky took one look and was silent. He gauged the distance and soared over the fence. Well, actually he clipped it with his heavy back hooves and the bar fell down. My pen mate jumped the damaged fence and galloped off. Smoky watched from a safe distance. Although the two older horses had fled, I stayed to watch with morbid fascination as the feline crashed into yet another wall. Blood leaked down its face and the meowth batted it away with a torn paw. I looked away for a second to make my escape when Smoky shouted that it was behind me. Whirling I caught the cat under the jaw with a hard left hoof. It somersaulted backwards with red blood pouring out everywhere, but when it landed it painfully rose to it's feet. Snarling and hissing it circled around me, driving me into a frothing panic. It wasn't the first time I had cursed having horse instincts, which seemed to kick in irrationally, but this was no mere shadow passing overhead. Diving forward at my ankles, the meowth's claws were within millimeters of my flesh as I danced back snapping my teeth at the creature. It attacked on without seeming to notice the blood it was loosing or the horrendous injuries that had been inflicted on it. My head snaked forward again missing and withdrawing before the terrible claws could work their way into my nose. Adrenaline raced through my vein and my heart was beating so fast that I could hear it throbbing in my ears. It was because of that rushing sound that I almost didn't hear Smoky call out, "Don't you bite it boy. That's a victory for the enemy right there. Don't bite unless you plan to be like that for the rest of your time living!" It seemed as soon as it began it was over. The meowth dropped down in mid- attack and writhed on the ground in agony before laying still. A thin trickle of blood mingled with the think foam rimming its mouth. That is when the scream sounded behind me. Turning and full of adrenaline I lashed out missing the little girl by inches. She screamed even louder. Her dirty blond hair flew out behind her as she ran scream in hysterics at the top of her lungs. "DADDY! Kathie's stupid horse KILLED my FLUFFY! And it tried to KILL MEEEEEEEE!" I had always disliked Melissa, Chris' youngest foal or as humans called, them 'kid'. Personally, I think kids are really goat babies. Goats were fairly smart, but why would you call yourself a goat if you were human? Anyway, my mind raced in fear and dread of Chris' retaliation. Author's Note: Enjoys e-mails a lot!