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The Black Stallion: The Black's POV

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I was so tired. The men had kept me moving across the desert for many miles. I fought them the whole way. I wanted my mares and my kind master. These men had no thought for my wishes but drove me where I didn’t want to go. I grew angrier and angrier every step.

Finally we reached a town. There was a great expanse of water, more than I had ever seen in my life. The many people and the water drove me wild. Someone wrestled a cloth over my eyes. I was furious. I reared and struck out, hoping to catch the man who had done such a thing. I shook my head mightily, trying to toss the cloth off. I could feel my beautiful black hide foaming. I was getting tired, but I wasn’t about to show them that. I bared my teeth and snaked my head out blindly, but the ropes that held my halter held. I rose again and screamed. I could feel myself being pulled forward, and immediately braced my legs. Swish! Burning pain lashed at my rump. Startled, I dashed forward, feeling a body fall as I trampled him. Suddenly I did not feel sand under my feet, but a hard surface that rang as my hooves found purchase. I felt myself exoriably pulled upwards and finally to a flat surface. I struggled but my strength was fading. Now the men seemed to pause, and I did too, wondering what would happen next. The cloth ripped off my face! But before I could do anything, the whipped slashed my rump and I jumped forward into a dark cave. The door was slammed shut and panic enveloped me. I tore about, kicking and striking at the was a stall, I figured. I had heard of such things, but I was a wild horse of the desert. I didn’t deserve to be shut up in a dark place! I screamed several times to be let out but no one did.

Eventually, I exhausted myself and calmed down enough to cool down. Soon I felt the floor moving and panicked. I tried to kick the door down again. I did not like the feel of the moving stall. It made me feel a bit sick, but I was determined to get out of there! I screamed and kicked again but it was useless.

The dark-skinned man that captured me from the desert took care of me. He never spoke to me but threw me hay when he thought I needed some. I was hungry. All the antics I’d been doing burned energy, energy I needed to replace. I was still very angry with him, and he had to be quick to drop a bucket of water before I attacked him. Only my thirst drove me to be careful not to knock the bucket down. He swore at me a few times, but I didn’t care. He stole me from my mares! He kept me captive in this stall on a tossing sea. Yes, it was a ship that I was on, as I figure out finally, now that they left my top door open. There was nothing to be seen in the distance but water. I worried about where they were taking me, but I soon dismissed this. My whole energy was focused on getting out of this wretched place. I banged on the walls long into the night before finally standing in exhaustion. I did not lie down, for I wanted to be alert in case anything happened. And besides, I would allow no man to come into the stall, so they did not clean it out. The floor soon grew dirty and I disdained to lie down on the straw.

One night as I was peering out at the stars, I smelled a new person. A boy slowly approached me. Hah! He was not going to touch me! I whistled angrily at him and pinned my ears back. Then I turned and blended into the darkness. The boy came up to the door. I could have bitten him then and there, but there was another scent mixed in with the boy-scent. Something sweet? He put white stuff on my door and went away. I checked to see he had gone before smelling the white lumps. It seemed harmless. I carefully nibbled one thoughtfully. Oh! It was very sweet! And very good. I hungrily ate the rest of the lumps, and turned to my hay with satisfaction.

Every night after that the red haired boy left some white lumps on my stall door. I waited until he went away again to eat them. Sometimes he did not see me, as I was too restless and kicked about my stall. My hind foot had a splinter in it, but I did not care. I was still too angry at my captivity, although the boy was becoming a familiar figure. He spoke quietly and kindly and did not make any sudden movements. I decided the fellow wasn’t so bad after all, but he was a two-legger, and that kind cannot be trusted in the least.