"You deserve this more than me," she whispered, as she hugged me. The bit was tight on my mouth, the girth straining my stomach; but I didn't mind. Kate was proud of me.

I also remember the day it changed, around two months days after we came back from the competitions. I was in my stall, warm and dry from the heaters both below and above. Kate and two other men were arguing outside. It was disrupting my rest.

"You can't sell him!" Kate was saying, her blue eyes flashing briefly. She never used that tone, not even when I refused jumps or did a collected trot instead of extended.

One man sighed. "We have been though this, Miss Almonquist. The Akhal-Teke belongs to Glacier Peak Stables, not you. I'll sell him any time I want." He was tall, and could be considered handsome. Dressed smartly in a dark blue suit, he had not a single piece of hay on him.

Kate looked down, her black hair fell out of her hairnet. I wanted to run out and comfort her.

"Now," the other man, who was quite short, said. "You say he won gold in dressage and cross at the Olympics, Mr. Tranger?" He asked.

The taller man nodded. "And silver in jumping," he added quickly. "However, the vet didn't know whether he will recover fully from that fall. His bone healed, but his muscled have all deteriorated."

Kate had walked away. I would have called out to say goodbye, if I knew that this was the last time I was going to see her.

Let me know if you guys want more.

That night, I was left alone in my stall. However, I could not sleep, even though the barn was dim and the other stallions quiet. As the hours passed, I paced my stall, anxiously pawing at the bedding. From the open barn door, I watched at the eastern sky paled, then pink streaks rose from the horizon. Around me, the others horses woke; and began nickering among themselves.

"That's him there, the pretty cremello." A human voice said. I glanced back towards the door. The same short man from last night approached, along with two others. They all carried crops.

One man snickered. "Wonder how much he'd go for. Not more than a grand, I'll say." He had a angular and light face, with dark eyes and hair.

His companion, on the other hand, was darker in skin tone, and had the same eyes. "I just want our commission, Mark. Grab the stallion and let's go."

The short man waited at the entrance, as Mark and the other man forced a rope halter onto my head. I snapped my teeth, and attempted to bite Mark's arm. A painful swing of the crop in his hand closed my mouth.