In the months since Thunder’s disappearance, George’s life had fallen into a gray monotony. The once-lively farm had become a somber place, filled with the quiet sounds of work done alone. Without Thunder, even the simplest tasks seemed heavier, slower. The barn had felt like a tomb, each creak of its wooden beams a reminder of the horse that used to fill it with life.
Every day, George found himself staring out at the empty fields, waiting for something—anything—that might bring a sign of his lost companion. As winter passed into spring, George’s hope dimmed like the pale sunlight filtering through the storm clouds. Through the pain, George did his best to push away false hopes.