Dia

Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it

I was pleasantly surprised by Sahin’s presence as he walked up. The colt seemed spooked and I hoped it wasn’t me! I mean, I’m really not that scary. Pretty? Yes. Scary? No. Who’d be scared of this piece of gold and cream? Hmm? No one in their right mind. But the way the colt acted, I had to wonder if he was hurt or had been hurt. I was reminded why I took Satitba away from the Brute all those years ago. Ok, only three years ago — but who’s counting?

I smiled at Conquistador. I hope it was as friendly as I intended it to be. The colt was cute and seemed sweet. He seemed exhausted, maybe he hadn’t quite learned how to run yet? It was possible if he had no one to show him.

I reached over and rubbed my head against Sahin’s shoulder in greeting. I flicked an ear at his question.

“Nah,” I drawled. My voice was upbeat. “Meh onleh chahld wus a daughta. Ah foun’ dis un jus’ naw.” I smiled back on Conquistador. “Nahce da mee’ ya, Conquis’ada… Con…” I paused, running the syllables on my lips. It wasn’t so foreign, but it was a not a familiar word. That was when the other mare arrived and I was unable to continue talking to the foal. She came between us and little Conquistador and flattened her ears. My own flickered back, but not held against my head. No, she was being protective.

I looked to Sahin and back at the other mare. I move a bit so I can see the colt. He is nestled into the other mare. I flicked an ear forward. Her words are to Sahin and I realized that even though the colt seems to think her a mother, the mare isn’t his. She brought the colt without permission.

That sounded like it might end badly.