"Why are you crying?"
"Hello?" it said again. It was definitely the horse talking.
It was wearing a funny little pack on its back.
"What have you got in there?" you ask.
"That is not for you to know yet," she said (it was a she,
you could tell). "Anyway, I hear you have to find four friends.
Well, meet friend number one. Me."
"Why are you crying?" a voice asks. You turn around. You see
a brilliant white horse in a stall. That's funny. The last time you
looked there were only black horses.
