Julieta led the white mare with dark spots to the riding arena. The countryside stable was peaceful in the morning light.
The mare stopped. Ears pinned back. A loud snort echoed through the arena. Julieta reached into her pocket for a crunchy apple.
She offered the apple. The mare turned her head away. Julieta's shoulders dropped.
She sat on the hay bale. Traced the fence post bark with her finger. 'Maybe we should try again tomorrow.'
The next day, Julieta brought a soft brush. She stroked the mare's neck, but the mare stepped back.
A blue butterfly fluttered past. Julieta decided to try something new. She hummed a quiet tune, the same song her grandmother sang.
On the third morning, Julieta sat cross-legged beside the mare. She let the mare sniff her hand.
The mare leaned her velvet nose into Julieta's palm. Her hoof tapped gently. Julieta giggled.
Julieta saddled the mare. This time the mare stood still. The dark spots seemed to dance in the sunlight.
They trotted into the arena. Wind rushed through Julieta's hair. The mare gave a happy snort. Julieta laughed.