..Emmeline Winter stood, axe in one hand, the other raised in front of her; across her open palm, a shallow cut glistened bright crimson. "By Winter's...hand the blade is brought..."She made a tight fist; blood dripped steadily, adding to the small puddle already on the floor.The end of the spear line ran right across it."It is our blood that binds."The beast snorted disgust and disbelief. "Who are you ... to still defy me..."The axe rose, its blood-smeared blade glinting in the light. The young. His being of such weight and according to having touched an animal several times his size and weight, he awoke to finding himself as a Jutland colt, and young enough to wean.When the horses came back to the barn, the one mare who liked Stan, let the colt lip nibble at her teats, the sucking out of what little milk she made, made for more, more, more and more.Days and weeks passed as Stan, obviously excited about his new self, did wean and stood trying hard to masturbate, if only to walk all. More

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