The Race
The boy slipped in and out of a light sleep. He daydreamed of riding Lightning through the clouds into battle. But in his dream he was a mighty warrior and Lightning was a full-grown stallion. Both of them wore the paint of battle and the markings of their victories. The boy's spear was chiseled to a razor sharp point and the hand rubbed leather of his shield reflected the sun's rays, blinding any enemy who dared to look into it. They rode with the speed and power of one thousand buffalo.
Suddenly the ground began to shake. The sound of hoof beats echoed through the soil. The boy, still half asleep, squinted his eyes looking into the distance. He was trying to see what was causing him to awaken. He sat up staring out over the plains. He rubbed his eyes vigorously, trying to pull himself out of a daze.
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Chapter Three - The Race
