Chapter Text
Somewhere in Europe, 1918
A soldier ran through the fog with the American flag in his hands. He heard the sounds of guns firing and artillery shells exploding in the distance. There were sounds of men crying in pain, yet the soldier couldn't see them.
"Spirit?" the soldier shouted. "Where are you, boy?"
He heard nothing but the sound of battle.
"Spirit?"
A whistling sound was heard and the soldier looked up. The last thing he saw was an artillery shell slam into him.
***
New York City, New York, January, 1919
The soldier woke up in a panic, flinging around and falling out of the bed he was in. He groaned as he lift himself off the ground.
"Uh, not again," he said.
He sat himself on the bed and saw a letter he received the previous afternoon. It was from his superior officer from the war, Brigadier General Douglas MacArthur.
"It's okay, Billy, it's okay," he told himself.
He focused his mind on reality as he closed his eyes.
"Your name is William Jacob Anthony Hill. You were a sergeant in the 84th Infantry regiment. You survived the war. You're home now. You're-"
Hill's eyes shot open.
"Spirit."
He put on his coat, grabbed his cane, and headed to the stables. He passed by each stall until he found him: Spirit, the Kiger Mustang that Hill grew a friendship with back during the war.
Spirit woke from his sleep, seeing the shell-shocked Hill in the middle of the night. He neighed, worried for his friend.
"I'm sorry, boy," Hill said as he petted Spirit. "I just had to be sure you were here."
Spirit pulled Hill close to him and rest his head on him. Hill silently patted Spirit's left side.
"I'll be fine. It was just a nightmare."
Hill saw a window in the wall of Spirit's stall. He went over and wiped away some of the ice on it. He looked and saw the snowflakes falling onto the ground.
"Oh, I didn't get a chance to tell you this, but I just got word from MacArthur. I've been honorably discharged from the army and they've given you to me."
Spirit snorted.
"Don't worry. I promised to give you your freedom when we figured what to do when we head to my grandfather's farm when winter is over."
Spirit snorted again.
"Can you please stop doing that?"
Spirit began to tap with his hoof on the ground.
"Oh, I see. Well, I guess I have to apologize for waking you up. Can this make up for that?"
Hill pulled out a peppermint hard candy and Spirit ate it.
"Hey, be careful or you'll take my hand with it."
Spirit snorted at Hill, who playfully snorted back.
Hill yawned. "Okay, I'll see you in the morning. Good night, Spirit."
Spirit pushed Hill with his muzzle as Hill walked out of the stall.
"Okay, I'm going."
Spirit laid down in his bed of hay and went to sleep. Hill went to his room and fell back into his bed. As he laid there, he began to wonder about the future.
"I'm sure that there won't be much trouble from here on. Besides, what could be worse than going through a war?"
***
Two years later, Miradero, California, June, 1921
Hill fell down on his back as a horse trotted around him. The horse neighed like it was laughing at Hill. Spirit charged up and neighed angerly at the horse. The horse lowered it's ears and trotted away. Spirit went to Hill, grabbed his cane with his teeth, and pulled Hill up on his feet.
"Thanks, boy," Hill said as he petted Spirit.
"Billy!" someone shouted.
Hill turned and saw Al Granger ride up to him.
"What is it, Al?" he asked.
"It's Athena."
Hill's eyes widen. "It's happening? Now?"
"I'm going to get Fannie and be back as soon as I can."
Spirit had already ran across the plain toward the herd. Under the shade of a tree was Athena, Spirit's mate. She neighed happily to see him and groaned in pain. Spirit was concerned and laid next to her, comforting her. Later, Hill arrived and fell on his knees next to Athena, panting heavily.
"Did you really have to make me walk all the way here?" he asked.
Spirit snorted.
"Hey, who's the one with the limp and cane?"
Spirit snorted again.
Athena neighed, breaking up the argument, even if Hill was the only one talking.
"I'm sorry, girl," Hill said as he petted Athena's neck. "Fannie will be here soon to help."
Soon, Al and Fannie arrived. Fannie examined Athena.
"It's time,” Fannie said. “Al, Billy, I'll need your help."
Five minutes later, Spirit and Athena were officially parents of a newborn colt. The colt had a coat of brown fur, with a black mane, tail, and four socks on each leg. He had a white mark that began at the forehead and went down to his nose. Athena got up and went to a patch of grass near a pond. The colt flopped around, trying to get on his feet. Spirit gave him a push and the colt got on his feet, galloping to his mother.
Spirit went to Hill and neighed, lowering himself on a knee.
"What, now?" he asked. "But you just became a father."
Spirit stared at him.
"Okay, fine. You're the boss."
Spirit neighed as Hill got on him.
"Hey, don't over think it. You saved my life, but I'm the one that got you back home."
"So, you going to name the newborn first?" Al asked.
"I can't think of one right now," Hill said. "Maybe an afternoon ride will help me think of one."
"Okay. I'll be seeing you when you come back."
Spirit snorted and ran off with Hill.
"I still don't get why Billy talks to horses like they speak back to him," Al said.
"Kind of reminds you of someone?" Fannie asked.
"The girls?"
"Speaking of girls, they sent this telegram saying there coming in the three-fifteen train."
"Today?"
"Yeah. So, shouldn't we be heading for the station?"
Al's eyes shot wide as he realized his wife was right.