When he reached Thunder’s stall, his heart sank. The gate was open, the stall empty. Panic surged through him as he rushed outside, calling Thunder’s name into the crisp morning air. But there was no answer, no sound other than the wind rustling through the trees.
George searched everywhere—through the woods, across the hills, down by the riverbank. Days turned into weeks, and still no sign of Thunder. He’d posted flyers, made phone calls, and even offered a reward. But as the weeks dragged on, hope began to dwindle.