The night was eerie, quiet, and still, but then the whinnies of horses pierced it like an arrow.
Under the black shadows of night galloped a black Andalusian. His hooves kicked up mud and dirt as he ran, splashing onto his rider.
Though his face was hidden in the shadows, one could tell the rider was young and scared. Following close on his heels was a group of about five more men, all riding horses and carrying crossbows. Arrows flew by the young man and his horse, narrowly missing them.
The two friends leaped out of the woods and onto the wide-open spaces of Pinta Country.
The boy’s horse whinnied to tell him he was just as frightened as he was.
To comfort him, his rider patted his neck.
They ran, ran, and ran. During the process, the Andalusian jumped over creeks, streams, and haystacks.
More arrows sailed by them as the enemy steadily drew closer.
In an attempt to lose them, the boy steered his horse toward dark, overgrown figures before them. Teeth clenched, he yelled at his partner, “Go, Joey! We can do this!”
Just like that, the horse threw his head and moved faster.
The two reached the overgrown woods, but right when they did, the boy cried out in pain. By accident, he violently turned his horse’s head, and he tripped over a tree root.
Whinnying, both horse and rider went down. As if they were drunk, they somersaulted down a hill.
The boy flew from his horse’s saddle and crashed into a puddle, while his horse quickly got up on all fours before he could smash into a tree.
The enemy lost them when they galloped into the woods.
Joey stayed quiet until the pounding of horse hooves died down. He then quickly turned his head toward his rider. Bucking slightly, he hurried to the puddle to check on him. What on Earth just happened? Why did they suddenly go down?
Joey saw it. The puddle of water surrounding his rider turned a dark red, indicating only one thing. An arrow had shot the boy.
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and then Add to home screen.