It was just before dawn and the early morning chill made her shiver. She slipped out of her sleeping bag, pulled on her boots and a lightweight jacket, and stepped out of the truck. Misty nickered for her breakfast, but Wind Dancer was lying down again. He seemed to be sleeping. Ali watched him nervously as she grabbed the feed buckets and hung Misty’s on the fence post. The mare needed no encouragement to eat. Ali carried the other bucket into Wind Dancer’s pen. To her surprise, he rose quickly to his feet and shook himself from head to tail. He looked a little stronger. “Well, look at you,” she said as she walked around the gelding, taking note of his appearance in the pre-dawn haze. His ears were still flopped out to the side like they’d been since he’d first arrived. Though he didn’t seem all that alert, Ali sensed an improvement in his outlook. She lifted her hand and snapped her fingers to check for a reaction. Wind Dancer’s ears twitched at the sound. “Good boy,”
