I blink, opening my eyes for the first time. My big brown eyes scan the room, and it takes them a moment to adjust to the low light. Where am I? After a while, I can see a bit better, but my eyes still aren't used to being open. Hay is scattered sparingly around my hooves, and the air is filled with dust. At first, I think I am all alone, but then I feel warm breath on my forehead. I start, scared. Then a warm, comforting scent fills my nostrils, and I know there's nothing to fear.
My mother leans down and nuzzles my ears, urging me to try standing. I look down at my lanky legs, and almost laugh. Stand? On these little twigs? I try to make a snorting sound, but it doesn't sound quite right. Wait, "twigs"? What's a "twig"? Taken by surprise, I look back down at my legs, and try to stretch them a little bit. In the dark, I can't quite tell what color they are, but they look dark, kind of like my mama's. I sigh, and move my legs so they are stretched out in front of me. My muscles tense, preparing for my feat.
"Look, the filly's trying to stand!" a little voice squeaks. I turn my head so fast that my skin tingles from the movement. On the other side of a tall wooden door, a child stands watching. Next to her, a gruff, hunched looking man stares on.
"Shh, be quiet!" he whispers, although to my sensitive ears, it sounds more like yelling. I cower lower, but my mother makes a small whinny, again encouraging me to stand. I grimace as I pull my front legs toward me, and apply pressure. Pushing, I gain a few inches, but before I can even feel accomplished, I flop back onto the floor. Mama looks at me with sympathy in her eyes, and I try again. This time, I try standing first with my hind legs, but again I fall to the floor.
I land on my back, and it takes a long second to roll back on to my stomach. I almost shriek as a pointy piece of straw pokes into my back, but the pain is gone almost as fast as it began.
I try standing again and again, but each time I land on the floor. I neigh with frustration. Why is this so hard? I regain my bearings and try again. I place my front legs in front of me, and push hard. Suddenly, I've gained multiple feet, and I am leaning on my front legs. Using my haunches, I push on my hind legs, and within seconds I am on all 4 feet. I'm standing! I whinny multiple times, spreading my excitement.
My mother looks down, and says, "Good job! I knew you could do it!" I open my mouth, trying to form words, but I just don't how she did that. I try again and again, but I just make a strange assortmant of sounds. Mama snorts, amused. I frown, how is this funny?
Ignoring her, I look around at my surroundings. Now that I am so high off the ground, I can see so much more! Mama and I are enclosed in a large rectangular area. There is light wood up to a little past my head, but then it transform into metal green poles. It looks like the entire building is filled with similar looking stalls. I look to where the little girl was, but am surprised to see a tall man in her place. He wheres a light gray suit, at least what I make out to be gray, and his dark hair is neatly brushed. His small eyes bear into mine, and he speaks.
"It's a filly! A filly!" he roars, angry. I flinch at his harsh tone, and instinctively, I run for my mother. As I reach my leg forward, I stumble and drop to the ground with a thud. I whine, scared. My mother gives the man a scathing glare before turning and leaning down next to me. The angry man turns and stomps away, his heavy footfalls echoing through the building.
YOU ARE READING
Filly
General FictionThe fictional story of Mississippi Victory, a newborn filly destined to become a great racehorse. She is the reincarnation of Ruffian, one of the best racehorses of all time.