In a galaxy not so far away…
The chestnut had suffered insult by a Sith who had removed much of his heels over a period of time. The toe grew long and the heel was dropping ever lower putting pressure on the deep digital flexor. The hoof pastern axis began to lose its kilter and the insult made the chestnut suffer greater and greater pain. He was saddled and ridden despite saying that he suffered greatly and yet his guardian did not appear to listen. She could not or would not hear his desperate pleas. Until one day he could no longer hide his pain and he could no longer function. At this point she listened, purely because he was no longer useful. She was told by experts that he could recover, that time and patience were now required. The chestnut listened hopefully to see if his future was brighter. And then he heard the words that would send him into a deep spiral. The words that told him there was no force with him. The words “bullet”, and “shot” and “loss of use”. Then his place was taken by another and he was shunned. Hope was gone. He resigned himself to the fact that he had only a mere few dawns left to see in the world. He retreated within himself. The human race had proved him right. They were cold and heartless and selfish. His use was fulfilled, no more was he required.
A Meeting of the Jedi Council
The council had convened and there was much to discuss. As the year was coming to a close there was a sense of disturbance in the force. Master Madrid spoke “A chestnut gelding will soon come to us. He is in grave need of Master Yoda. A jedi padawan he will become and our number will become 5.” Indeed, Master Madrid had sensed the disturbance in the force nearly two weeks before the chestnut even knew that he was the topic of conversation. Before Master Yoda was even aware that the chestnut would face imminent death at the hands of others. And then things happened very fast.
Do or do not….
The chestnut, resigned to his fate, stood in the back of his stable facing the wall. He could no longer stand to see the world. He had abandoned all hope. Then he heard familiar voices. Two that he knew well and one that he had not heard for at least three months. There seemed to be some heated discussion. He sensed anger. He sensed urgency. But above all he sensed something that he could not quite understand. He felt a spark ignite somewhere deep down. Things were changing. This voice was doing something he had not sensed in years. This voice was fighting for him. It was believing in him. And then, could it be? Was he being called? Was that his name he could hear? Surely not. He continued to stare at the wall. But there it was again. This time he turned slowly, limping on his lame foot. Yes! There was the person calling him from his stable door. There was the smile that he had not seen in several months. He ventured over and tentatively said hello. The touch to his nose was comforting. The sense that all would be well, that he had nothing to fear. And then she was gone. He retreated back to his wall. Perhaps he had misread the signs.
What the chestnut did not realise was that for the next few days a storm raged and a war was waged. One where his life was at stake. The force fluctuated. Some days the light dimmed. Some days hope resurfaced. Then one day he heard what he could scarcely believe to be true. The battle for his life had been won. He was to be spared. But where he was to go was not yet revealed to him. He only knew that the friendly voice that had touched his nose that day was with him, leading him onto a trailer on a wet and windy day.