They walked along at a leisurely pace for a bit when, suddenly, Trumpeter reared up, then came down hard into a bolt. Sasha quickly reined him in, standing in the stirrups as she pulled him back and brought him down to an easy walk. “Whoa, boy! No racing today. We’re just going for a walk. Take it easy,” Sasha said, patting Trumpeter on the side of his neck, but he abruptly pulled away.
“He’s in a mood,” Sam commented sarcastically, reaching down to pat Angel. She nodded her head.
“Yeah, pull back a bit, Sam, just in case,” Sam’s mother said. “Angel might be spooking him.” Another horse walking so close beside Trumpeter could be triggering his nature to race.
Sam laughed. “Anything spooks him, Mom. He wants to run. We’d better go back and get Dad.”
His mother shook her head. “No, he’ll be fine. The fresh air will do him some good.” A second later, Trumpeter tried to bolt again, but Sasha was quick to pull back on the reins, bringing him easily back under control. “On second thought, maybe a quick run will do him some good. Hold tight to Angel. I’ll see you in the practice field.”
“Okay,” Sam replied uneasily. His mother had taken Trumpeter for a run upon many occasions, but it seemed different this time somehow, and he didn’t like it. But he did as his mother asked and held tightly to Angel’s reins, bringing her to a stop.
Suddenly, his mother leaned forward slightly in the saddle, holding tightly to the reins and yelled, “Yah!”
Within a second, Trumpeter’s front hooves raised high into the air as he lunged forward, landing about six feet ahead, as he sprinted into a dead run with his tail flying wildly in the breeze straight out behind him. He stretched his long neck forward as the wind blew through his mane.
It was really a beautiful sight, watching Trumpeter run—as if watching poetry in motion. His muscles flexed, undulating at an incredible speed as he leaned forward. Trumpeter was a horse that was born to run. Within a second, they were already in the practice field ahead in the distance. Showing off a bit, Sasha turned Trumpeter quickly around and waved at Sam.
Sam laughed and made a clicking sound with his tongue, giving Angel the signal to trot, and she happily obeyed.
Then, in the distance, Trumpeter suddenly reared up, taking Sasha off guard. She fell backward off the horse, landing with a hard thud upon the ground as Sam watched in horror. Trumpeter came down hard onto his mother’s leg, crushing it. As he dug in to bolt again, he knocked her back hard onto the ground and her head banged into the hard ground, jolting her.
“Mom!” Sam yelled. “Yah!” he yelled and leaned forward, urging Angel into a full run toward his mother, lying lifeless on the ground as Trumpeter ran off into the woods. With Angel running at full speed, he was at his mother’s side in seconds. “Mom, are you okay?”
“Sam, honey, go get Dad,” his mother said calmly, but when Sam looked down at her leg, it was lying at an unnatural angle to the side. A bone was protruding from her leg and blood was quickly pooling onto her faded blue jeans and she was losing consciousness from the pain.
“Mom, I’m not leaving you!” Sam replied, sliding his arm under her shoulders. He looked up, and Trumpeter was bearing down, barreling right toward them as tufts of earth kicked up from the ground behind him with a wild look in his eyes. Angel stood still, looking around nervously, then back down to Sasha and Sam. “Mom, I have to move you.”
“Honey, I can’t.” Sasha bit her lower lip, trying to hold back the pain. The pool of blood on her jeans was now spreading down her leg.
“Mom, he’s coming back,” Sam said into her ear, trying to think quickly. He looked up, and Trumpeter was leaning forward, sprinting toward them at full speed with bloodlust in his eyes.
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