Wind and rain were no match for him. Storms and whirlwinds he bore with a silent determination. He was training; so that he could become the best in his chosen field.

Day in, day out, he sat there, watching the horizon while foals played around him. While birds and that infernal cat climbed up to his head, only to laze and goof about; he sat there.

And he would stay there; until he was covered by moss if he had to! and all for the brief glimpses of her while she passed, and her greetings to him.

“Good morning, Tom.”