Once two horses pulled the Plough, and the ploughboy stumbled behind over clods and lumps of meteor, but now only the patient gelding walks the furrows of night, and both the boy and his mare are gone.
This is how it happened.
The boy goaded the mare once too often, perhaps, or maybe a shooting star stung her hindquarters, but in any case, one night, with the Plough wheeling over Lincolnshire and the land far below huddled under snow and ice, she stopped hauling the Plough, and turned her head over her shoulder.
"Get up," the boy said. He leaned into the frame, one hand gripping the lash tighter. His gaze took in the mare's broad, sweaty back.
"Why?" said the mare.
The gelding nipped her shoulder. "We must."
Ears back, she said, again, "Why?"
"The humans." The gelding glanced back toward the boy. "The humans will be angry."
"In the name of Pegasus!" the mare said. "Look at the size of us compared to the size of them! For pity's sake, grow a pair, would you?"
Opening: BuffySquirrel.....Continuation: Anon.