Chapter Five

The old frail man cried out, raising his arms in a W and threw them around the surprised mare's thick stocky neck. His face buried itself into her flaxen mane. Elly stood with her head above the man as muffled sobbing began. Her head turned to me while I hid in the house's shadow. The half moon peeked from behind dark clouds.

Quiet sobs, Persian words spoken above a whisper, pouring out from lips, the ramblings of an old man's feelings. His right hand came up to the mare's neck pushing aside the long mane and methodically brushed her neck as if he was a groom of some sorts. He paused and wiped away his cheeks.

The sobbing ceased and new unfamiliar words came from the old man's lips. His fingers intertwined with strands of mane feeling softness between his fingertips. Elly lowered her head onto his shoulder. More muffled words came out from the old man still buried in her mane. I shifted uncomfortably next to the corner of the house straining to hear the words. My fingers tapped against the rifle's metal frame. Index on the trigger.

The balding man broke from his embrace and stepped back from the mare taking a hold of her chin with both his hands. He spoke a few important words meeting her eye to eye then planted his lips on her nose. They stayed there for an eerily long time. Elly's tail swished. I wiped my eyes and took in a slow breath. Her ears remained pointed in my direction.

His lips came off and he began to carcass her forehead. He spoke words to her, each one enunciated with underlying passion. Every syllable was pronounced with great importance. It had to be a prayer or a blessing. Was this something in Islam? Was he speaking Arabic?

Elly's big nose came to his forehead, followed by a burst of air blowing his fading hair into disarray. The old man broke into laughter and stepped back. His hand grasped the door knob and swung the door wide open. He gestured to Elly come in with a joyful smile.

My m4 rifle came down from my shoulder. I took in a deep calming breath.

Elly stepped up to the door, floorboard creaking under her weight. Her head pivoted to my direction, ears searching. She blinked twice and exhaled in a huff. I waited for the words to come. The old man followed her hint, staring towards my direction. Perplexed, I glanced behind myself.

A bright orange light burned into my eyeballs. Blinded and cussing I stumbled into the side of the house brandishing my rifle. My back against the cold bricks. A hearty laughter pricked my ears.

"Ah! American." A thick foreign accent came from somewhere in front of me. I covered my eyes with my arm. Did he speak English?

"Sorry I can't see shit. Can you turn off that damn light." I jabbed my finger where the voice came. I expected to hear Elly's voice at any moment.

The orange light disappeared. My numbed eyes, granted relief from the burning sensation. Reddish shapes slowly fading from view.

"American, Come." The man's voice called in front of me. I rubbed my eyes. Did he not hear what I said? Is he partially deaf? I blinked, continuing to rub. The red fuzziness left my vision. I opened my eyes to a wall of darkness. Two blurred shapes, one big and long and one tall and slender was a distance away, both moving.

The rifle slid back on my shoulder. Using the side of the house as a crutch, I limped along the brick wall, left ankle off the ground. Step by step, I reached the dinky porch to stand next to the mare and old man as they observed.

"Nice to meet you. My name is Corporal Sm-" I cleared my throat. "James" I held out my hand.

The old man's face flashed with emotion. Was it fear? Surprise? Shock? Was he reacting to my limping? Was it my rifle? His eyes betrayed nothing. Seeing an american soldier in full combat gear must be frightening to a civilian like him.

He reached out and shook my hand.

"M-y Nam. M-y Nam?" He repeated himself. He broke into Persian gesturing to himself.

I shook my head.

"Ok! Ok?" He asked or was it rhetorical?

Through all this, Elly remained silent beside him. Why wasn't she saying anything? Did the two of them already talk before? Yet she said she only met him a few hours ago. Something was amiss. She stood expressionless, except for the occasional flick of the ears.

The old man followed my gaze. He glanced to his side at Elly with confusion all over his bearded face. He clicked his tongue.

"Ummm." The awkward silence was broken by the man's lips. The old man put his hand on my shoulder shaking his head. "American come" He asked, guiding me through the open door.

The rush of warm air on my exposed skin, the lights on the ceiling blinding me for the second time, every window covered with curtains, yes this was a man's safe haven. A home in a city under siege.

Everything a man could accomplish in one's life covered the brick walls and floors in this one oversized living room. Trophies and awards scattered on the wall or placed inside glass cabinets. Faces of his loved ones, occupied a prominent position over hand carved dresser followed by extended family and dear friends.

On the wooden floor placed end to end, a small gap between itself and the walls was an authentic persian rug. Something I've only seen in pictures or on TV. At the far side of the room stood a nightstand made of oak with an ornate lamp on top. The lamp's incandescent bulb was brightly lit with a shade.

Beside the night stand was a well-worn sofa chair with an opened book laying page side down on the seat cushion. Beyond the chair and stand was a darkened hallway leading to what I believed to be the rest of the house. The doorway to the kitchen was on the opposite wall to the outside door. If one could sit on the sofa chair, they could see into the kitchen while in the living room with ease.

Once Elly's tail passed through, the door closed behind us. The old man deadbolted then put a 2x4 across the door. Once done his cheerful mood greeted us or should I say me to his home. While he spoke Persian to me, Elly moved on to the open space in the middle of the living room.

My eyes drifted across her form, It was one thing to see her under the moonlight, another to see her in this brightly lit room. Her flaxen mane groomed and brushed seemingly hours ago as long as my arm almost touching the floor. Her tail brushed as well, beckoned to be braided, was free to whip the air if she pleased. Her coat glistened with a tiny bit of sweat where my thighs and ass sat on her. Following my gaze, her eyes met mine. Elly snapped her head away.

"Come Come" The old man took a kind hold of my shoulder and guided me past Elly as she stood silently. Her ears nearly reached the ceiling..

"American come." he spoke. He walked past me and beckoned me over to the sofa chair. The Iranian sntached up the opened book and pointed to the chair. "Okay?" He asked. I hesitated. Behind the chair was a dark hallway which I assumed led to the rest of the place. This whole house will need to be secured and I shouldn't rest until I checked every room. I raised my hand.

A heavy nudge hit me right in between my shoulders. The old man chuckled, his eyes lighting up. One glance behind me, Elly's head was lowered, aimed for my back.

I limped over and sat my dirty, hair infested uniform on his clean, obviously favorite chair in the house. My rifle was placed on the floor within easy reach.

"Nice place." I leaned into the cushions. My sore muscles welcomed the relief. This beats laying on hard ground any day of the week.

"Ok Ok" The old man replied with a grinning teeth. He spoke more words to me in Persian with his hand tapping on my shoulder. I gave him a vague smile.

"Thank you." I said.

The old man nodded with a smile, glancing at the mare taking up most of the open space in the living room. He spoke a word then left to the kitchen which was in a state of disarray. Pots and pans banged in their protests of their owner's handling. His shadow crossed the doorway more than once.

Heavy footsteps moved away on a creaking wooden floor. The chin strap dug into my cheeks while I shifted my body to sit up. In the middle of the room, Elly's head nearly scraped the ceiling as she pivoted to face the kitchen. She curled her neck, lowering her head down by a good foot. Her ears gravited to the sounds of the cook in the kitchen. Ever since she stepped inside, she has not said a word. Did I dream she could talk? Then why the silence? What reason did she have for holding her tongue?

Seeing her conform herself to a room not made for a horse her size made me feel small in comparison. It was not a feeling I experienced as much before. Being six foot tall myself, I usually towered over others and never had the little man syndrome until today.

If I was her, I would be feeling claustrophobic here. A couple steps and her body will hit the wall and anything else in her way. Tables and chairs would be a dangerous obstacle for her legs if she got caught in one. I don't know how she could manage her size in here and not complain about it. If she took the effort to lie down on the middle of the floor, she would have plenty of space on all sides from her nose to her tail. Yet last time I asked her to lay down, she gave me more than a handful.

"Well this is a rather nice place you found." I blurted out. One glance around the room at the well kept furniture told me all I needed to know.

Elly did not move a muscle, staring at the kitchen's doorway. Coming from the kitchen, metal banged and scraped against metal.

"I could stay here for the night till morning till my platoon shows up. You think my squad will like to hear how the accommodations are." I smirked.

No, they would kick my ass for it. Jackson would and so would his buddy Lawrence get together to try to gang on me for just the fun of it. I am amazed I haven't gotten my teeth kicked out from those two assholes. I should learn to hold my tongue.

"You think the old man wouldn't mind having more company over? Say my whole squad? We got blacks and latinos, sadly no Arabs but hey what can you say? Do you think he would enjoy our company? Because I have no way in hell to explain you to my commanding officer." I said.

Elly turned her head from the kitchen door to me. Her mouth opened and the lightest of sounds came from her lips.

"What?" I said. My ears did not catch it.

"Do hush!" She repeated, nostrils blowing out a puff of air.

I scowled. Call it nervousness or a young soldier's jitters. I could not relax. My nose started sniffing. A tantalizing smell drifted into the air. The amora pushed away any sleepiness I had. A fresh cooked meal, my mouth watered, oh how long has it been since I had one, two weeks ago or has it been a month? I can't even remember.

Elly's hoof tapped the floor. Her attention still was on me. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" I asked.

Elly shook her head.

"Look its fine." Without thinking, I rose to my feet. Sharp pain shot up my leg followed by low pitch gutteral sound from my throat. My rifle clattered to the floor, both my hands holding onto the arm rests.

In an instant, Elly flung herself within my reach. Stretching her neck out, her forehead pressed into my chest.

"Damnit I don't need your help. " A small sprout of bitterness rose inside me. It was plucked away that instant. I balanced on my good leg, hands removing themselves from the chair. My eyes glared at the rifle on the floor out of reach. Elly backed away.

I looked at her face. "Can you…" Unable to say anymore. A man must have his pride.

Elly moved over, her massive size came up to me and she picked up the weapon and placed it back in my hands. The familiar grips and rubber texture felt good, real good. Her warm breath blew on my exposed skin.

"Its fine." I look down, feeling shame. I will go check out the house while you watch our host."

Elly made a gentle nod and backed away, giving me space, hooves stepping on the persian rug. For her size, it was the most appropriate yet I think it was more she wanted to keep me in sight. She stopped in the middle of the room, eyes still on me. The feel of humid air came from the kitchen, as was the boiling sound and a pot screaming it was ready. //fix this paragraph in the middle and beginning

I limped myself out of the room with my m4 rifle at the ready. I caught a glimpse of the old man's back as he stirred a pot in the kitchen. No time to gaggle, I made my way down the dark hallway. It was time to clear this house, room by room until I was sure it was safe for us. I'll start with the bedrooms.

First bedroom had standard fare with a bed and a dresser in a spartan walls. Dirty clothes were piled on an unmade bed. The opened closet held only a few articles of clothing. I limped over to the next room.

The next bedroom seemed more livable if piles of boxes on the bed and stacked against the walls weren't there. Stacks of water bottles and can goods sat semi covered behind the bed. The closet was stuffed full of blankets and sheets.

The end hallway had a small door to the side. I opened it with a rifle ready revealing it to be a closet with jackets,hats, and other related items. I closed it and limped on.

The end of the hallway held a door barricaded by a heavy old chest. I peeked through the glass seeing nothing but darkness. Was worth a try and I jiggled the handle making sure. It was locked. Going back through the hallway, I slipped quietly into the kitchen through a doorway . I walked in using a counter as a convenient crutch, rifle on hip.

The old man, singing a tune, jumped at the sight of me. Around him were small groups of chopped colorful vegetables and meats along with a bowl of cooked white rice. My stomach growled, inadvertently.

The old man shuttered in on words in Persian. The shocked look on his face made me grin at least to relieve his worries from me sneaking up on him. He grabbed a fruit off the counter and placed it in my hand.

"Sorry sir, I was...uh just checking out the kitchen." I motioned with my head to the rest of the kitchen with its tacky interior. It reminded me of my grandparent's place.

"Ok Ok? He responded. "American…" then the rest was said in Persian. He made a extraged gesture to the food he was preparing.

"Ok" I nodded my head and looked past him. A small white interior door was on the other side of the room. My curiosity peaked. Moving through the kitchen I opened the small door. A foul odor greeted me from inside. A toilet and small sink with no plumbing for days. I immediately shut the door.

The old man waved me away, saying more words I could not understand. There was only one thing left to check, the backyard. I opened the outside door.

The smell of gaseous fumes greeted me and the ratcheting noise of a gas generator running nonstop. The sun and neglect had rendered this yard dreath of vegetation along with sandy everywhere. I stepped outside and closed the door.

Kitchen window held many boards placed so tightly together that not one bit of light escaped. The old man was resourceful. Next to the outside walls, a rusted metal trash can, the bottom held in place by sand, completely covered in black soot and buried remains of what I could guess was trash. The smell of still hot coals lingered behind. I found a spot against the wall and relieved myself.

I hope he didn't mind. It has been weeks since the air force took out the city's water and sewerage.

Six foot walls surrounded the backyard, low enough for a guy my size to hop over if I had the inclination. My bad ankle prevented any attempt to do so. With the racket the generator was putting out drowned any noise from someone sneaking over the wall. This could be a real threat to those inside who weren't aware. Thankfully I wasn't planning on staying the whole night here unless...Elly had something in mind. I think she would have told me so. If she would talk.

I sighed and kicked the sand, aimlessly looking at the night sky.

Somewhere out there in this urban environment my platoon would be hunkered down somewhere for the night. A few watches would be set out in nearby buildings in overwatch while the rest would take a snooze together in one room. There wouldn't be much talking, not at night when half of the guys want to sleep and are in the same room. Time seemed to move slower when I was with my platoon though the danger was real and present.

They were a good bunch of soldiers, my buddies, men who you could depend on to save your life. They were also annoying shits too. A moment wouldn't go by with someone at least asking me for the Iranian candy I found off of dead militia in an earlier patrol. They all wanted a taste and asked why I was being rude for not sharing the loot. I guess I was lucky I was the first one to stumble across a dead body with a sweet tooth. I ate my stash in private. No shame for me.

I pulled out the fruit out of my vest pocket and examined it closer. The old man handed it to me like it was a peace offering or just a way to make me go away. The texture had a certain fuzziness to it from what I could feel with callouses on my hands. I sniffed the strange fruit smelling nothing but gas fumes.

Fuck it. I bit into the fruit taking out a sizable chuck, skin included. Saliva mixed in with the fruit chucks as I grinded the pieces into smaller and smaller chunks. The taste was nothing I had to describe it, bitter with bits of juices sweetness. How in the hell do they eat these things? Did he give me one of the bad ones out of the batch? I took another bite.

The north star was clearly visible in the sky. I threw the empty husk of the fruit over the wall, out of sight out of mind. Let it rot in the streets.

I gazed at the six foot wall one last time wondering to myself, if I did jump that wall where would I go, back to my platoon, back to the war? Three hours it would take to get back to my unit if I hustled. Twice that for my injury.

What would that even mean if I had never gotten separated in the first place. All it took was one firefight, one snap decision and I was alone. It was my mistake and from that is when I encountered her.

If I go back now, what story would I have to tell? There would be none to tell. With all the shit they went through noone is going to believe the story that I met Elly.

Why would they, as I have already been gone for several hours now if I had a watch. Sadly the one I had a week earlier broke and since I was a corporeal a watch wasn't high on "my need to have list". That is my CO's words spoken as is, for an entirely different situation.

As I see it, my platoon will have to do without me for a couple more hours. Until I figured out what story I could tell them why I was gone for so long. Was I making an excuse for myself? A reason not to go back? I leaned my back against the outside wall. Elly was that reason. I had to know where she was taking me and who her friend was. Then and only then could I come back and give my CO a good excuse and intel that he would gladly accept. Yes Corporeal Smelly wasn't a fuckup, not today, not tonight. For once there was something to look forward to. The corners of my mouth attempted a slightest of smiles. A few more hours with her made life seem worth it.

I stared up in the sky, fingers flicking against the rifle's frame. Peace at last. My eyes' lids began to close. A sudden buzzing in my eardrums awakened me. I popped off the house, gripping my rifle as I searched with my eyes the backyard's wall.

What the hell was that?

Through the constant racket of the generator, a buzzing in my ear made its presence known. When two competing sounds clash together in disharmony leaving the receiver reeling in agony like needles poking their eardrums.

I moved my head a few degrees to the left. The buzzing grew in my left ear. I jerked my head to the right. The buzzing left my left ear and was completely in my right.

It's coming from inside the house. I about faced, bringing up my rifle to my shoulder, finger on trigger. I made my way to the outside door. My hand reached out for the door and felt a vibration through the door knob. Something was happening inside the house. Not even the noise of the generator could drown this out.

Pointing the rifle at the door, I reached out and yanked the door knob. The solid door hesitated for a brief instant then popped open. A deafening chorus of instruments roared at me. The lights inside blinded me. Laughter came from within as white spots left my vision. The old man was chopping away on the counter while dancing a jig of his own. Across from him, sticking her head through the doorway into the kitchen was Elly, a willing audience in the cook's show.

My shadow fell across the old man's back. He stopped his jig.

"American" The Iranian turning around, shouted over the radio, holding a kitchen knife in one hand and a weird looking green vegetable in the other. His words were drowned out by the music on the radio. His expression on his face gave me the impression of an older friend.

I pointed to my ear and the old man laughed. He waved me on, gesturing towards the doorway where Elly was. The old man went back to his chopping while singing along with the persian music. I flipped the safety back on and shut the door behind me. At least our host could keep it down, there is enough noise in here to be heard from the street.

An inch sized green object flew through the air. Elly's head ducked, flinging her mane up. The green object hit the kitchen wall beside her, bouncing off and landed in front of her. She picked the green mosul off the floor. I could imagine the sound of her molars grinding the piece into bits if it were not for the radio.

Another green morsul flew and hit the wall a good foot away from her. Unfazed, Elly reached out and picked it up too. She glanced at me, chewing with her lips. Her mane was in total disarray.

What the hell was going on here? Don't they know there is a war going on.Not that I cared to mention it. The two of them had something going on here. My lips seemed to want to smile for no apparent reason. Music blared into my left ear as I trekked across the kitchen.

The old man gave a yelp. Two green blurs flew by my face, one after another. Elly dodged the first one by shifting her head to the side, her neck slammed against the doorway, mane flinging in every direction. The second morsul smacked her forehead, bouncing off spinning in the air, hit the wall and dropped to the floor. The old man roared in laughter.

Elly regained her composure and picked up both pieces. She withdrew from the kitchen. I could only grin as I entered the living room.

Elly approached, her mouth coming up to my ear in a nonchalant way, chin resting on my shoulder.

"You must rest." She whispered. Her breath tickled my ear.

My hand instinctively came up to hold her cheek.

"I have checked the bedrooms, doors and windows. The back yard is fine though the perimeter wall is low enough for a man to climb over. Other than that, this place is secure. No one is here except the three of us."

"I could have told you that, with my nose."

Yes you could have but didn't. There was one burning question I had to know.

"Why are you so quiet? In here?" I asked.

Baffled, her chin came off my shoulder, eyes glaring at me. A look only an inquisitive person can give or I can say horse. She flipped her head to the kitchen then back to me. Her lips came up to my ear.

"I have not spoken in his presence. To him I am only a horse that has wandered off the street. I choose to hide my true nature from him. Men have a tendency to change their minds when given the opportunity. "

I nodded, her whiskers tingling my ear. When I first saw her, I had the same thoughts. She was a prize worth claiming. I didn't consider anything else. Maybe that is why she had to be so brutal. I chewed my lip. She had to put me in my place. Could I blame her or...

"Will you sit?" She nudged my shoulder.

I complied. The cushions greeted my back, rifle leaned against the chair on my right. Chin strap undone, my helmet was tossed aside and I leaned far back. Her ears were the only thing in my view besides the peeling ceiling.

Her hooves clip-clop on the rug as her head came into my view. Warm breath bathing my face.

"Are you going to watch me while I sleep?"

"Why must you ask such a question?"

I smirked.

"I don't know. I thought I ask-"

Elly snorted, a wave of warm air blasted my face. Her hoof tapped the floor. That was one way to put it. Her way of expressing herself nonverbally seemed to be evident; she was quite capable of getting her message across, even to a soldier like me.

I closed my eyes in her close presence. I could sleep anywhere, even under the watchful eye of a mare such as Elly with a loud radio in the background. As long as she doesn't pull me from my chair. She had no reason to I hoped.

Suddenly a loud voice bursted from the kitchen. Both of us stopped immediately and swiveled our heads to the kitchen doorway. A young man's singing voice from a recently turned up radio, now sang an emotional song with instruments playing in the background. I looked back at Elly. Her attention was towards the kitchen and the man who inhabited it.

Before my eyes, out came the man of the house clapping with his deep voice reverberating to the radio. His voice rose and fell to the young singer's rhythm. Each note matched the singer in volume and in spirit. He hummed, He clapped, he strobed forward into the living room between Elly and I.

He ignored me and my blunt look of confusion and shock. His back turned to me and he reached out to the only other one in the room, Elly.

Oh How can a mare show herself! The look of disbelief on her face and body was blatantly obvious. For a mare of her stature to be confronted with a strange man's unexpected performance, she had to be spinning her wheels to make sense of it all.

The old man danced. He did his little jig in between us as he made his way over to Elly now in a state of disarray. His voice was good, his dance was not. A smirk came across my face as the old man reached for the mare.

Elly stood her ground in a room too small for a horse her size. She intercepted his hands with her nose pushing his hands back with gentleness. The old man only laughed. His hand cupped her nose and he turned around facing me.

"American" He shouted over the music.

"Yeah" I watched in anticipation. What was he going to do?

The Iranian stood in between Elly and I, his hands now to his sides. A new song came on the radio with a new singer making his presence. The singer's voice carried emotion through the room, shaking the old man's shoulders. The few instruments joined in and started their beats.

The old man brimmed with a big smile, standing on his toes, chest out, he broke into a dance.

The old man danced twenty years past his prime, his arms flailed about. Elly sidestepped away from the dancing old fool. Her attempt to elusive maneuver a swing limb ended up with her smacked in the face. My cheeks bluged outward.

Elly jerked her head back in a stunned I didn't know this could happen look, on her long face. Her eyes blinked in rapid succession. Her ears laid back then snapped forward. She shied away as the dancing figure came in.

Laughter poured from my mouth. My hand beat against the sofa arm rest. Even an intelligent horse like her could be surprised. How worse could this get?

The old man, spurred by my laughter, sped up his dance. His eyes gleamed as he worked his feet in rhythm with the radio. One foot down, the other around, hands clapping. It was his way of doing it that made me think it was the local culture around here. I started to feel embarrassed for the poor man.

The old man spun in front of Elly with an expression on his face. His eyes fully on me. I shut my mouth, feeling nervous.Was I a captive audience now?

Elly's hoof tapped the floor behind him. The old man's face lit up with the biggest smile.

"Forget it old man, she is just humoring you." I smiled back. Maybe he would get the hint.

The old man grinned. He spun on his feet and faced the mare with her head and neck aligned with her shoulders. Did he take my words as encouragement? He wasn't going to try to dance with her was he? She was easily 10 times his weight and four times his size. How the hell was this going to turn out? I sat up and leaned forward.

He approached her, coming to the side of her neck. His hands reached out patting her mane. His lips moved yet the music drowned his words out.

My gaze switched from the old man to Elly. What was she going to do? Stomp on his feet? I chuckled. She is much too big for this room and the ceiling was inches away from her ears.

Elly had other ideas. She curved her neck, bumping the old man's chest with her nose. The old man exclaimed in surprise. He wavered on his legs, determined to keep his balance. He grasped the mane in his hands and pushed against her with the strength he had. Elly relented.

My eyes followed them as the mare moved sideways. The old man pushed Elly to the wall, corralling her between him and the pictured covered wall. He turned his head to me smiling. His arms strained as he changed from pushing to now pulling.

Elly's neck curved to the pressure and she sidestepped with him as he walked backwards.

My eyes couldn't believe it. I could barely hold my tongue. He must think he is a genuine horse whisperer. The old man stopped Elly in the middle of the floor and turned to me. He spoke words to me I could not understand. Elly showed only a blank expression. How long is she going to play dumb?

The music went into a lull, the instruments went silent. The man stood motionless as if he was waiting for a signal. The music rushed back in a higher pitch. The singer matched it with his deep voice. The Iranian fool now took her head in his arms and pulled forward. The unwilling mare locked her front legs giving not an inch.

Exasperated, he tried again. His face flushed. Yet she still did not move. The size difference was too great, did he not understand that? If only he knew she wasn't a dumb horse. I can't even tell the old man what is up as I didn't know Persian. Elly would have to speak up to set him straight and she was not talking.

The old man stepped back from the mare with his frustration showing through his hands. Elly, ever the stoic actor, gave him a sideways look.

A loud slap echoed in the room. My jaw dropped. The old man had stepped back and landed a whopper on Elly's rump.

For a split second, Elly's mouth opened showing her teeth, ears went flat, tail twitching. I recoiled back into my seat. Her eyes held fire. The very same fire before she pounced me. Her feet propelled her forward away from the old man. She circled the room, hooves lightly stepping on carpet. She came around to the old man and passed him. Her teeth slammed together. Those pincers hurt like hell.

Unable to move, my eyes followed as the mare circled again. Energy irritated from her body. Her muscles tensed underneath her coat. One quick motion could send the old man flying.

She circled the room again, passing by my chair for the third time in a room too small for her. She stopped when her long tail came into my view, her rear facing me. She glanced behind herself with a quick turn of her head. She paused and lifted her head high, nose pointed to the ceiling.

Moments passed, our eyes glued to her still form as if she wanted our full attention. My lips beckoned. Could this be?

She began, her feet moving in place. Hooves hitting the carpet, two by two. Her tail raised slightly. Without missing a beat, she stepped sideways, two by two. Another sideways step while keeping her nose up, tail raised. Her hooves kept their rhythm. Another step to the side, she was on a roll. She was bouncing to the front to back, mane and tail joustling with each upward motion. One, two, three steps to the side, she reached the middle of the room. She spun 180 degrees, hooves not missing a beat, tail and mane flying. She faced me, still in her pose. Her tail raised higher. Hooves beating out a two by two beat. I began to count them in my head.

She took a half diagonal step towards me, to my left. Then half diagonal step to the right. Keeping up her momentum, she moved closer and closer. Every three beats, she took half step forward. My eyes glued themselves to her feet. I have never seen such a display before, not from any dressage horse. She came closer. If I could, I could reach out to touch her. Another half step. She was so close. I leaned back, too close for comfort.

Another half step to the right and she stopped completely, head dropped before me and she bowed her head. Hooves slightly apart on the beaten persian rug. I was without words.

She shook the mane out of her eyes while the music played in the background. Clapping came from behind her, I forgot about the old man, standing to the side out of my view blocked by her body. I imagined the shocked look on his face seeing Elly in her dance. He must think I had something to do with it.

How could I explain to the old man, that the one before him is no ordinary mare! How can I tell him that she is far more than he can see?

Elly glanced to her right eyeing the old man. I slid over to see him standing next to the wall closest to the kitchen hands together. Barely able to see him through her mane. He spoke a word, pointing to me or was it Elly?

Elly turned her gaze to me and with a toss of her head she walked backwards to the middle of the room. She stopped. Her hooves rearranged themselves into a pairs, front hooves together while the rear hooves far apart in a stance. This isn't something I have seen before? What was this?

She remained in her stance still as a statue. Nothing moved except for her blinking eyes and sides. Moments passed. I glanced over at the old man. He was calm, eyes totally on Elly. A thump hit the floor and my attention shifted back to Elly. Her hind legs began to move to her left carrying her rear. Her front legs barely moved, as her rear moved in a circle like the hands of a clock.

When she faced the old man, her front hooves split wide apart, her head dipped down low between her forelegs and her back hooves lashed out barely scratching the wall with a snap.

Her momentum carried herself forward to the old man standing by himself. Her head swung side to side as she came over, passing by him only inches to spare. Her hooves tapping the floor. Her body was like a tightly wound spring.

One two three I counted the beats of her hooves. Three distinct beats made with four legs and not one of them out of sync. The old man clapped, his mouth cheering as Elly passed by me in a pace slower than a walk. I forced myself to smile. You are showing off aren't you? I didn't know you were such a dancer.

She dipped her head as she came around the room. Tail tucked firmly in place. Hooves making a thump striking the carpeted floor. She moved to the middle of the floor, stopping in place. She faced the old man, her side to me. Three beats to the rhythm. Three thumps of her hooves striking down. Her head tossed high to the ceiling. Her legs shifted.

I blinked. Two beats and she was moving her hooves fast. Left side striking first then right or was it the other way? Her legs were a blur to my own eyes. Then her legs slowed seemingly after every two beats. Her neck arched, her nose pointed to the floor. She came forward towards the old man.

The unsuspecting man clapped to the new beat or did she match him? His voice was loud and brass. He backed away into the wall as Elly came for him. Her nose reached out and touched his arm.

He stopped clapping, Elly didn't stop. Her nose nudged his chest then his right side. Confusion washed over his face. He moved from her touch, sliding along the wall to the kitchen doorway. She quickly cut him off with her head moving in the way. I couldn't help but chuckle. Maybe you could tell him what you want? That is if you spoke his language.

The old man stepped off the wall and Elly curved her neck around to his back pushing him away from the wall by her nose. Hesitant, he made way to the middle of the room guided by her touch. His eyes were on me like I was the ringleader of this whole dance. If only he had any idea!

Her hooves never ceased their rhythm. Side to side they hit the floor. Elly circled the man with her nose pointed inward.

Instively I rubbed my face. The old man eyes lit up. Do you think I am giving her commands? His face disappeared from view as Elly came in between. This is Elly you're seeing, this is not something you have ever seen before. A lump grew in my throat. Was I talking about myself?

His joyous face reappeared. His foot began tapping on its own. What a mood change. He must have a clue.

Elly snorted. She circled the room once more. Her hooves suddenly changed rhythm in mid step. Three beats this time and not one bit slower. I was impressed. Even a layman like me could feel the beat.

The old man turned to face her as she came around. Hooves tapping. Tail swinging. She approached him shaking her head up and down, tossing her mane like a dress.

He wisely stepped aside as Elly brushed against him as she passed through. A familiar feeling that I have experienced often. She did not go on past yet instead turned herself to behind his back. Her nose pressed into his back between the shoulders. Her hooves stopped their rhythm.

The old man attempted to escape. She blocked his path with her long neck and body pushing him inside her circle while she revolved around him. Her nose pressured him on the shoulders and side. The old man surrendered by letting his arms fall to his sides.

Elly broke from her circle and squared up with the old man, aligning her body with his, feet apart. The old man looked my way with a curious look.

I nodded. I think she wants to dance with you. That was my best guess. My words, unfortunately, would never reach him but I hope the meaning would. A small part of me was glad it was him up there and not me.

The unsure man looked at Elly, his face softening. Elly snorted then nodded. He smiled, wrinkles stretching on his face. His arms stayed by his side. His foot tapped once.

Her hoof tapped in reply. The old man chuckled and pulled his arms behind his shoulders in one big stretch. He cocked his head while puffing up his chest, arms swung back and forth. He leaped.

He landed in front of her, grasping her mane. Elly flinched, raising her neck. Oblivious, the old man tapped his feet in quick succession while leaning against her.

Elly stepped back dragging the man with her. He laughed and released her mane and spun three times in front of her. His body swayed side to side while his feet tapped to the beat, arms wide open.

Her flaxen tail slapped her side. Same as her tongue licked her lips. Wherever the man moved, her eyes followed, favoring one eye over the other.

The old man shuffled his feet, inching closer to the suspicious mare. His foot came up to his knee and he kicked out. He reached out to her, with his closest hand and grasped her mane in his fingers.

The drums kept to the beat, the music rolled. The dancing man swayed to the left, pulling her after him. To my surprise, Elly went willing, following the man's steps. With a shake of her head, she moved her feet to her own beat, countering the man's shuffling feet.

The old man drew her along in a large circle on the floor. Man and mare went around the room. He tapped and shuffled while she beat her hooves up and down. The drum picked up its beat. The human's tempo increased and so did the mare's.

Two dancers locked together, slave to their own rhythms. //music

The old man, with the biggest smile, released the mane and spun himself towards me, arms out. Elly, dodging his arms, sidestepped with him. Her legs strained to keep up.

Laughter came from the old man. He stepped up to the mare and side stepped away from my chair. Elly obligated, matching his pace while moving sideways. More laughter came from him as he stopped in the middle of the room and kicked with his good foot.

Elly twisted her body in the tight spin, mane and tail whipping the air. The old man stayed just out of reach, clapping as she came out her spin. The biggest smile seen on his face.

BIt of sweat glistened on her coat. Air rushed out of her enlarged nostrils as she faced him again, ears forward.

The old man stomped his feet, leaning back, he moved away. In an instant, he switched direction moving sideways catching her unprepared. Her legs tangled beneath her with a sudden change of direction. Her body propelled itself towards him with her straining hind legs. I watched in awe, she saved herself from tripping by force of will alone.

The old man reached out as she came rushing in and hooked his arm around her neck. Instinctively, Elly curved her neck around him, her chin on his back. His feet left off the ground.

The old man's face was painted with shock and a little awe. My mouth dropped. My eyes widen. Before me, Elly carried the man while twirling on the floor. Her mane was a cushion for him, her tail just a tassel swinging through the air.

Her hooves striking the ground precisely where she intended. Her slow rotation to keep her human companion from harm. One, two, three, they twirled towards me. Mare and man spinning together as one. United in their dance. The old man gave up his struggle and held his arms out wide. His mouth shrieking in pure release.

The dancing mare stopped. The old man's feet returned to the floor. His eyes sparkling with tears. In his excitement, he grabbed my hand and shook it roughly. His words pouring out of his lips.

He stopped himself and pivoted on his feet to Elly and wrapped his arms around her neck in a quick hug. He released her and left the room without a second glance. The radio ceased after a burst of static.

My hands clapped themselves. I could not believe my own eyes. Words were stuck on the tip of my tongue.

"That was...unreal." I spitted out.

Elly bowed her head, her sides heaving, glistened with patches of sweat.

"I didn't know horses could dance- I mean- like how you were doing." I stuttered.

Her tail swished side to side. Her ears focused on me.

"You were good- really good- no, great even. The way you moved." I said

Her ear flicked to the side. Her head gave a weak nod. The blue eyes of hers gleamed with reflections. Mane covered her nose and mouth.

"You made it seem so easy, like you were, there like a dancer. You were dancing-"

"Humans dance with their bodies, I dance with my feet." She interrupted.

She paused, blowing mane from her nose.

"It is how one moves one feet that makes the dance work. Bigger strides for the horse, smaller strides for the human."

I stared into her eyes.

"When I partner with a human, unlike stallions, I guide them through with touch of my nose or gentle pressure from my body." She said.

Elly stepped closer.

"Generally, it is the horse that leads and the human follows. Through the dance, we are unequals, one following the other. We never change our roles until it has ended safely. Stallions, can change their role in a dance at any moment, even on a whim.

It requires skill and a strong sense of timing to keep up with a stallion who knows how to lead and follow, sometimes both at the same time. Many mares have embarrassed themselves falling to the ground with their own tangled legs."

She chuckled. "Though most stallions are nothing of the sort, refusing to give up the lead."

"I-...um...I don't know what to say." I said.

"Say nothing. Once your ankle has healed and you are ready. I will show you." She gestured with her nose to my leg.

I smiled. My hand rubbed my knee, thoughts scattered and unclear. Where did she come from and how come she has not mentioned a word of it to me? Was it anything like earth?

Elly leaned in and sniffed my uniform.

"You have a new peculiar smell on your uniform. Some kind of oil you humans douse yourselves in?"

I pointed across the room. "It is the generator out back, giving out some bad exhaust."

"Ka to." She said, Did I hear that right?

The mare's ears swiveled to the direction of the kitchen. Her head turned and so did mine.

The old man entered from the kitchen, carrying a tea cup in one hand and a plate of croissant in the other. Sticking out from his jean pocket were several kinds of long green vegetables like celery or cucumbers. The assorted veggies rubbed on his elbow as he set the tea cup and croissant on the nightstand.

"Ok you" He spoke with a heavy accent.

I nodded, trying to think of something to say to the man.

Elly's presence did not go unnoticed. The old man quickly turned to her standing close by and pulled the vegetables from his pocket.

A cucumber, a dirty carrot, and a wide disgusting orange colored fruit maybe? He leaned over and jammed them at Elly's nose. Elly, did what any horse would do, jerked her head up and stepped away.

The old man persisted, stepping between us, jabbing a cucumber at her nose. He repeated a single word as he approached. The long slender cucumber poked at her big nose. Elly threw her head back again, going in reserve, leaning on her haunches. Her ass firmly planted against the wall on the other side of the room.

"Gah" The old man exclaimed. He rambled on in long sentences too fast for me to even pick up the words. He turned his back to Elly and waved vegetables in front of him.

"Hey old man. I don't think it's a good idea." I gestured downward with my hand.

His eyes squinted, cheeks puffing. His wrinkles seemed to merge together. He huffed and turned back to Elly now wedged against the wall. He switched the cucumber for the carrot and walked directly up to her. Elly's ears went flat. Her hoof tapped the rug.

The carrot touched her nose. She bared her teeth.

"Na kheyli mamnoon. negaresh dar bara khodet." Elly's voice thundered off the walls of the house.

The vegetables fell to the floor, rolling on the persian rug. Mumbles followed by a gasp for breath. The old man, white as could be on his brown skin, turned and fled. My eyes followed him the whole way till he disappeared into the kitchen. Silence reigned.

I glared at Elly, now standing defiantly on her side of the room.

"Why didn't you tell him you could talk? You almost gave the poor man a heart attack."

"Some humans do not want their expectations altered."

I straightened myself in the seat.

"You certainly changed his understanding, including his whole entire evening. He won't even be able to look at you in the same way again." Nor any horse.

"I did not intend to. He was being persistent and rude about it."

"You could have gave him a hint."

"How so? "

"A nudge or a touch of his arm, I mean like you do with me." I gestured to myself.

"Like I do with you?" Her mane shook followed by her body then finally her tail. "That is so unmare-like." Her horsey accent came back. "I would never do such a thing." She turned to face the kitchen. Her head lowered, to nibble a spot on her left foreleg.

"Better than his heart. How did you manage with him earlier?" I said.

Elly stopped grooming and glared at me. Her ears intently focused.

"He is a kind old man living alone in this house. The time I was here with him, he never ceased talking. I could not even speak a word before his lips would move."

Elly paused. She tossed her head upwards, mane falling from her eyes.

"With you being here, has him thinking that I am your horse that you have found and brought back."

"How do you know? I can't understand a word he says." My fingers drummed the nightstand. A movement caught my eye, it was the old man emerging from the kitchen quiet as a mouse. His face filled with curiosity.

"He even offered to buy me for a considerable sum." Her woman's voice came back with such annunciation of her words.

My mouth opened slightly and no words came out. Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it. Please don't say it. You're going to hell.

"Was that before or after he knew you could talk?"

Her hoof slammed the floor. Elly's 1500+ pound body swiveled on the spot towards me. I jumped in my chair.

"Must you insult me?" She asked with a whiff of irritation.

"I wasn't trying."

Her glare tore into me. Does she know?

"Sorry, I was only trying to tease you. I mean we do this shit all the time in my unit. Just a bunch of guys kidding around. At least till our superiors tell us to cut it out." I gestured with my hands.

"I hear. Do I look like one of your companions to tussle with?"

"No you don't." You're a horse, a mare to be precise.

I slouched in my chair, feeling no sleepiness, not even a hint of it. Was it her that kept me awake or this situation? Because I damn well know I could sleep anywhere.

My hand reached over and grabbed the pastry. The fattening buttery flavor slipped past my tongue and down my throat before I could take a breath. The old man certainly could cook. I took another quick bite. Under her gaze, I covered my mouth with my hand without thinking.

"He was perfectly happy treating me like a horse. Did you not see that? I intended to keep on observing without a word. You can know so much about a person when they don't think you are a social being. Take your hand off your face and enjoy that hot drink and bread he has offered you for me at least. I would have asked for more yet in this world horses like me do not exist So therefore I will play that part and remain silent."

The old man eyed Elly as she spoke. She is fantastic isn't she the way she can move her lips and a voice comes out when everything in your life tells you it can't happen. The look of admiration on his face was a pleasant surprise. The shock hasn't worn off yet for him.

"Even now?" I asked.

Her tail twitched as she stepped towards me. "Lose the reins, keep the horse. Keep the reins, lose the horse." She spoke.

What did that even mean? The old man's head disappeared and the banging of metal against metal started in the kitchen again. For a moment Elly stood there, her mane long as it was smooth. I remembered the texture it had in my hands. Strange thing to be thinking about when she stood on the other side of the room.

"Remain here human." Elly straightened her legs, and raised her head almost contacting the ceiling. Her hooves moved across the creaking floor. She turned herself around and headed for the outside door.

"Where are you going?" I asked. She did not answer as her teeth had grabbed the 2x4 and dropped it to the floor in front of her. She mouthed the handle and twisted it. The door swung open and she squeezed herself through, her tail was the last thing to be seen before she disappeared outside.

I got up from the chair, putting weight on my bad ankle. The familiar pain came shooting up my leg. I limped over passing the kitchen doorway. A quick glance, the old man was putting stuff in a metal bowl. I reached the door and went outside.

My eyes took moments to adjust to the darkness. The cold barely touched my warm body as I limped off the porch. The familiar clip clop sound echoed from the street up ahead in the abandoned neighborhood.

"Elly." I called out, realizing I left my rifle back inside with an Iranian who I've only just met. How do you know he doesn't have a weapon already?

The draft mare stopped and turned her head to me. The moonlight accented her coat beautifully as she stood in the street.

"What say you?" She spoke in a weird tone.

"Why are you leaving?" I asked.

"Do you have a problem with me leaving?"

"No I didn't say I have." I said.

"Must I remain by your side?" Her head tilted to the side.

My tongue froze. Damn her!

Elly chuckled, head held high. "Men are such simple creatures. They are only what they can see."

I glanced down to my throbbing ankle.

"You are in no such condition to ride so I, myself will go up ahead to find a safe route we can take. Without a rider on me, I can cover ground quickly and in case of encountering those young men from earlier I can gallop away without fear of you falling off my back as so."

Her sides expanded as she took a breath then exhaled.

"I will be back for you once it is done. I say human do stay off that ankle as it needs to heal if we are to ride together. Go sit in that comfy chair and take a long needed break. Do you not need such a thing? Rest well and worry not, Bijowin."

Without another word, she turned and went off into a canter down the street. Her hooves echoed on the deserted street as she disappeared into the darkness.

I strained my eyes seeing nothing for a solid minute. The old man came to the door with a puzzled expression. He carried a bowl full of vegetables and fruits, better than the ones he had in his pocket earlier. I shrugged, shaking my head with a smile and went back inside, closing the door.