*Eleanor's POV*
"Trot!" I commanded. But the horse just kept walking. "I said TROT!" I tried again, firmer.
But he wouldn't speed up. I sighed.
"Hey! Make your horse go faster. Mine's gonna run into yours," the kid behind me complained.
"I'm trying!" I seethed.
One of the instructors came up to me as my horse decided now was a good time to graze. The instructor must have been new, since I didn't recognize him. But he looked oddly familiar.
"Mind if I... try?" he slithered in a thick British accent. An accent I somehow recognized.
He led the horse out of the circle the six of us students were riding in. He helped me off the horse. He jumped onto it and said, "TROT."
The horse don't like being told what to do. Taking the new guy with him, the horse started galloping.
"STOP! STOP! STUPID HORSE!" he screamed frantically.
"Whoa!" I called, cupping my hands around my mouth to make the sound go further. It took a lot of strength not to bust out in laughter. As if the horse suddenly couldn't take another step, he stopped.
The instructor led the horse back to the stable. I followed him, not really sure what I was supposed to do. The shadows of the stable overtook us, and the mysterious instructor turned to face me. A smirk was wiped across his face.
"So, Eleanor is it? I think you'll enjoy this," he mused. Before I could react, the man's firm hands were on me. And a wave of recognition flew over me.
This was Louis. Tomlinson.
BOOBEAR!
Then a piece of cloth covered my mouth and nose, its fumes choking me. Within seconds, the world was black.
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