No one knew what to do with the colt. He was unpredictable. Dangerous. A coursing speed rippled through him, but something menacing came with. He was a wounded sailer in a sea of yearning, and no one wanted to swim to save him. She thought herself the same way. Different. A force to be reckoned with. A tornado- she came without warning and demolished without regard for whom she touched and whom she saved. But everyone else saw a damaged soul, a locked chest with a thrown away key. Maybe that key was in the sea.