The foal paused, in his prancing, to blink surprised glowing eyes up at Rafael.

"Oh," he said, rather softly--and his brisk galloping about fell into disappointed stillness. "You're leaving? ...Okay. Goodbye."

The foal glanced around, then snorted and picked his feet into a trot, heading back to Booker to ask him all about this strange encounter.

________________

BRING OUT YOUR DEAD