Mina bolted for the stables, heart pounding.

After two long weeks of restless anticipation, today was the day   the foal was born.

Her favourite stallion, a sleek bay Thoroughbred she had lovingly named Cookie, had been bred to the duke's prized grey Irish Draft mare, retired from work but still the jewel of the herd.

And there he was     a beautiful, almost-black colt, still wobbling on unsteady legs. His shoulders were already broad, his legs impossibly long. He's going to be huge, Mina thought with a grin. At least sixteen-three hands, maybe taller.

She had been waiting for this moment ever since overhearing the news that Cookie was to be a father.

Before the maids could catch her up before sunrise     and ask why she was anywhere near the foal     she hurried back to her room. Sleep was out of the question. By mid-morning, she had Cookie saddled and the two of them were flying across open fields.

They stayed out for hours, racing, leaping and weaving through the tall grass until the sun hung low and painted the sky gold. Mina only realized how late it had gotten when her stomach grumbled     dinner would be served soon, and she was nowhere near the manor.

"I'll teach him myself when he's old enough," she whispered into Cookie's mane between jumps. "But until then... please don't ever leave me. You're the best boy."

She straightened in the saddle. "Alright, let's take the jumping route back. We'll make it in time."

The gardener had been persuaded (read: bullied) into setting up obstacles along one of Mina's favourite paths, and Cookie took the eagerly.

"Keep it up, boy     almost there! The next one's at least three feet.... steady-Steadyyy!"

Then, barely four strides out, another horse veered into her path. She yanked back on Cookie's reins harder than she ever had before.

The words were out of her mouth before she could think. She was yelling.