“Hey!” The commanding soldier of the pack hissed to his comrade. “Your horse is following us!”

The soldier spoken to whipped his head around. And to his dismay, Harsha, his beloved horse, was trotting towards him. She had realized that her master had left without her, and no doubt decided to find him. But to the soldiers who could not risk being found in the grassland, a horse trotting behind them was as good a sign as any to tip off to their enemies that there were people hidden in the tall grass in front of it.

“Do something!” The commanding soldier growled, giving him a push. “We didn’t come all this way just to be shot down because a horse was following us.”

The soldier groaned. “Why couldn’t you have just stayed where I left you?” he mumbled.

He turned around abruptly and started walking back towards the horse. Soon, he got close enough for the horse to see him. Harsha ran to him in delight. He caught her and hugged her, hoping the enemy did not see them.

“Good girl, smart girl,” he whispered into her mane. Harsha neighed softly and nipped at her master’s neck. He sucked his breath and swallowed once in determination.

“Good girl,” he whispered again, stroking the horse’s strong neck. “I love you.”

The horse nuzzled affectionately. He lifted his hand and placed the cool metal barrel on the side of Harsha’s head. “Good bye.”

There was a thud as blood spewed everywhere and the horse fell to her side, taking her master down with her. The soldier’s face was painted with tears and blood, his clothing a bloody mess. His body shuddered with suppressed tears as he laid his head on the horse’s bloody one. Her eyes were wide open in confusion and shock.

The soldier slowly stood up. He took out his knife and sliced a chunk of his horse’s mane. He stuffed them in his pocket and turned around, rubbing his tear-streaked face on his arms. Crouching down low into the grass, he began moving back towards his fellow soldiers. He had nothing to lose now, for everything had already been lost.

In a puddle of blood lay a soldier on a battle field. A lock of hair had fallen from his pocket.