The chestnut stallion grazed on the lush grass in the meadow, seemingly unaware of the cougar that was slinking closer every minute. His ears twitched, but other than that he kept grazing. The wind rustled through the green stems and he lifted his head, looking left to right, smelling the air. The cougar had worked its way downwind and was now closing in on the stallion as he returned to his meal. The cougar knew that the time had come and prepared to lunge himself at the mustang, but, as if on que, the stallion looked between his legs at the cat and jumped aside as it landed in a heap where he had stood a second ago.

The chestnut reared and threw his front legs at the mountain lion, warning it to keep its distance. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to take the horse down now, the cat crept away as silently and as quickly as it had arrived. Once he was sure it had gone, the stallion dropped back on all fours and turned to the class of six youngsters. "Alright, what was my mistake and what was the trick?" Spuro asked them.

Muskrat, Zac and Dillon just lay in the grass in their usual trio and snorted as they shook away the flies. Muskrat was a bay and tended to lead the lazy habits of the three young mustangs, while Dillon, a grey, followed his lead in every way possible, eager to keep his new best friend, and Zac, a short, chubby black tabiano, simply tagged along because he was frightened of being left on his own. Spuro knew that poor Zac could have a chance if he strode for independance, but at the rate they were going at none of the three youngsters would make it through the trials. He still remembered losing his two friends on that horribe day, but at least he managed to spend another two years with Leon before he, too, was killed.

Pride, however, was a different matter altogether. He showed off too much, and so Spuro found his name amussingly fitting. But he let himself down at times; within the first month of being tutored he had taken to gambling , and although he was good, he wasn't good enough against the captains. Privates didn't have much to bet due to their rank, but the stubborn quarter horse mix found it eady enough to fritter away his break times, and Spuro made sure he trained for every second that he lost in a bet, hoping that he would learn someday soon and let him eat instead of exhausting himself. Because of this, the youngster was bony and poorly defended.

The two most promising students were Tay and Copper, a black stallion who had jumped straight into the tutoring after being arrested, like Spuro himself, and a chestnut who has spent his last year as a pupil under Spuro when he was merely an officer. It felt good to have some connections, it made Spuro feel more like a senior than if he was alone. Tay and Copper weren't supirior fighters, unlike Pride (then again, he got more practice when he should have been resting), but they listened to his advice and tried their best to act upon it, again, unlike Pride.

Copper was about to open his mouth to speak, but Pride shouted from the back, "You're trick was that he thought you weren't defending, but you knew he was there the whole time!"

"Thankyou, Pride," Spuro sighed. "And my mistake?"

"You were upwind, so you were asking for trouble," Tay replied quickly, determined to answer before Pride started glowing with vain again.

"There we go!" Spuro grinned, "It's very easy to turn yourself around while eating, that's why you have to lift your head and smell constantly to find ot which way the wind was blowing. If I hadn't asked Van to join me for the demonstration, I would be dead. Remember: defence first, attack second. Look before you leap, eceterah... Now go and have a break - except for you, Pride. James is coming round in a few minutes to check that you're keeping to the deal."

The five mustangs neighed in laughter as they ambled off to drink and graze, leaving the roan standing with his head low, opposite to his usual stance. Sure enough, James appeared a few minutes later to see the youngster going through the four defence positions. Spuro lumbered over to his friend and they watched the detention together.

James had been like a father to him so far, only better. The only parenting Spuro had received from his dad was the nagging sort, but James let him go at his own pace and didn't lay down the law - Spuro just worked it out for himself, and that was the way he liked it. He found it strange that James and his friend Nickle were the two horses on duty that reported, tested and captured him when he first came across the Band, and now they worked side by side every day. James had fought his corner when he had been accused of tretchary, and he was willing to do the same if ever the moment rose. The draft and quarter horse crossbred was his father, teacher and most of all his best friend.

"Alright, Pride," James sighed, "have the rest of your break, we need to go to the Counsil. Come on, Spuro."

Over the last few years there had been bumps along the way in developing the territory - flash floods, droughts, high winds, lightning fires, soil corrosion - but the workers had pulled through in the end and now the only areas that lacked fresh, cool grass were the gullies and the Counsil. At least most of the gullies had streams now so the sentries wouldn't suffer from severe thirst while they were on Duty. The Counsil was only a small patch anyway, consisting of boulders and platforms stacked against the wall of the ditch known as the Centre. The only reason the tiny, dusty meeting place was dry was because it was used constantly, and the ground was worn down by the relentless presence of hooves.

As they neared the Counsil, Spuro spotted Pirate, a scarred and mighty dunalino mustang, on his usual platform, high above the other horses, symbolising his reign of power over them all. Until he had been promoted to a captain, all he was allowed to refer to him as was their 'leader', or, in Band slang, 'the boss'. Spuro remembered his mother, Jade - he wondered if she was even alive any more -, telling stories about a cruel human named Boss. He often thought the two would get along well. But he had seen what Pirate had done to wild horses - it was all around him.

Even though he had sworn to be loyal to his leader, even though he appeared to be an upstanding captain, Spuro still remembered what his four friends had told him on his first day in the Band, and no matter how close he and the leader got, he would still hold a resentment against him for creating this man-like world of war, built by slaves for a single soul's revenge. The plan was to build up the Band's strength and attack neighbouring herds and steal the mares, later to split them among the stallions according to rank.

And it seemed that Pirate was getting restless.

"Ah, James and Spuro, good timing," Pirate greeted them, "I want to introduce you to somebody." The dunalino hopped from his ledge up to the meadows and waited for them. Spuro and James looked at each other, then followed obidiently.

"As you know," Pirate announced to the captains, who had all gathered to hear the news, "Tuco, Captain of Systematics, was killed with honour in the arena yesterday. He was a skilled fighter, and an admirable member of this herd. But he knew the risks, so when he placed his title as his stakes he knew that he might not get it back. When he realised that he had lost his place, he chose to die rather than live a life less than he deserved. So now, we are to welcome our new Captain of Systematics: Ghost."

Spuro's stomach dropped in horror. The champagne dun made his way through the group of senior stallions, receiving congratulations from all around. Only James and Spuro remained silent; even Nickle went to greet the new member, unaware of his brutal nature. At last the stallion turned to them.

"Well look who it is," he said in a low tone, glaring at Spuro beneath a smile, "Captain of Offencive Units, I have to say I never saw it coming."

"How did you get to become a captain?" Spuro thundered. "You don't deserve a title like it, you murdering animal!"

Ghost laughed it off easily. "Like you heard, I beat the previous one. And he could have surrendered, he chose to die."

"I wasn't talking about Tuco," Spuro snarled, "I was talking about Bramble. The captain was a good match for you, but my friend never stood a chance."

Ghost rounded on him, muttering, "May I remind you, that you are no savior, either. You've caused your fair share of casualties over the years, don't go playing innocent on me. I know the truth, and I always have." He pushed close into his face. "When Leon was left to my mercy, he told me all about your little plot. Too bad I have no mercy, so ending his life was worth it just to see you squirm right now."

"Enough!" James shouted, cutting between them before Spuro could retort. "You are both upstanding captains of the Band, if you want to fight, do it in your own time. But this is no way to behave." He looked at Spuro sadly. "He won the fight fair and square, Spuro, he won the stakes, too. And that means he earned the title. However, that is no reason for him to start accusing another captain." He glared at his former star pupil. "The second Tuco's last breath left his body, you became a Captain of the Band. That means you have more freedoms than other herd members, but that does not mean you can rub your aurthority in their faces. Any more arguements between the two of you will result in the me and Linx