The familiar shaking of hay nets made the spotted buckskin's ears prick up. His owner was early, much earlier than usual. Soren poked his head out of his stall, shaking some shavings off his face from his previous slumber. His ears swivelled, checking out the sounds around him in the barn, yet his gaze was fixed on his owner. The sights and smells of the equipment being loaded into the float this early meant only one thing--they were going out somewhere.
When Cole walked out of the tac...
