//------------------------------//
// WEAK I 
// Story: Ten More Yards 
// by 5aszs 
//------------------------------//

“And Sycamore has a first down at the thirty-five yard line with nineteen seconds left on the clock! Can they pull off the win?!”

Atomic tossed the ball to the referee as he followed his teammates to the sideline where their coach was waiting. The Sycamore-Buccaneers match had been an entertaining, back-and-forth affair, with both teams trading touchdowns the entire game. The best players on both teams had been the quarterbacks, who had played remarkably and led their teams to multiple scoring drives. Alizarin and his team were currently in the lead with a score of 22-17, and Mr Cobalt’s team needed a touchdown to win.

“Alright guys, we’re gonna go for it on this one…….”

Mr Cobalt quickly explained the play to the team, and the spectators (who were mostly Sycamore students, teachers and a few parents of the players) cheered loudly as the two teams went back onto the pitch.

Atomic lined up alongside Starburst on the far left of the scrimmage line. He had been the primary receiver for most of the match and Atomic had not disappointed, making several key catches to help the team get to the position they currently found themselves in, and he knew that he had to step up and not let the team down.

“Hut!”

Atomic leapt forward from the scrimmage line and galloped across the middle of the pitch, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

And…….NOW!

Atomic hit the safety and cornerback with a double move, first darting through the space between the defensive backs (who both had outside coverage), before changing direction and sprinting behind the safety. This opened a huge amount of space for Atomic and he knew that Thunderhoof would be able to find him.

The play had so far lasted ten seconds and Sycamore’s offensive line had given Thunderhoof good protection, allowing him to remain in the pocket. When he saw Atomic lose both of his markers, he stepped up and threw the ball.

This is gonna be an easy touchdown…….WHAT THE?!

Atomic dove forward to desperately catch the ball before it hit the ground, but he was too late, and the ball rolled away from him.

The defensive backs that had been marking Atomic high-fived each other, relieved that their team was still ahead, and Mr Cobalt quickly used Sycamore’s last timeout to stop the clock with nine seconds left in the match.

“I’m sorry guys, that play was on me,” Atomic apologized as the team huddled around Mr Cobalt.

The other reassured him that they still had time to win the game, and Mr Cobalt looked through his notebook before calling the play.

“2, 4, 6, 8, who do we appreciate? Sycamore, Sycamore, go Sycamore!” the pupils cheered loudly, waving their banners and posters high in the air.

The two teams came back onto the pitch and lined up on the twenty-five yard line for what would most likely be the last play of the game.

“Hut, hut!”

Thunderhoof quickly dropped back with the ball and scanned the field. His primary option was Starburst and Thunderhoof saw that he was well covered with two defenders on him. He set his sights on the next receiver, but Atomic was being covered by a physical cornerback, and the two were pushing each other as they ran. Thunderhoof’s last options were Pablo and Pacific Sail (who were playing running back and tight end respectively), and Thunderhoof scooted forward as he prepared to throw a pass to Pablo.

Suddenly, the offensive line’s pass protection finally collapsed, and the two defensive tackles burst through and charged towards Thunderhoof. The young quarterback quickly took off towards the sidelines, checking which teammates were open as well as trying to escape from the defenders. Thunderhoof saw that Atomic had finally gotten ahead of his defender and had continued running along the backside of the end zone, and Thunderhoof saw that there was a gap in the middle where he could fit the ball in between for Atomic. He threw the ball just as the defenders finally caught up to him, and he watched the ball as it flew in the air.

Atomic, I’m counting on you.

The game clock had hit zero just before Thunderhoof had let go of the ball, and Sycamore students, teachers and parents watched with bated breath, praying that a Sycamore player would come down with the ball.

Atomic had been following the ball’s progress, and he realised that Thunderhoof had put too much power behind it and it would go out of bounds if he didn’t do something about it. He continued following the ball to the far right of the end zone, and as he was followed by three other defenders, Atomic prepared for the ball’s arrival.

The ball had finally passed into a reachable height for Atomic, but it was still headed out of bounds. He jumped up at the same time as two of the defenders and stretched his right foreleg out as far as he could. Atomic felt the hoofball’s strings and gripped them tightly as he came down, wrapping his other foreleg around the ball for protection as he landed on his back. 

The closest referee was standing only a few yards away from the end zone on the sidelines, and he checked that Atomic had control of the ball before raising a foreleg, declaring that Atomic had scored.

“IT'S A TOUCHDOWN! SYCAMORE WINS!”

Atomic quickly pushed himself up as the defenders let go of him, and his teammates piled on top of him, all of them cheering estastically. Sycamore’s defensive unit ran onto the pitch and joined in with the celebrations, hauling Atomic up and carrying him.

“You’re the greatest!”

“Best catch I’ve ever seen!”

“We won!”

Atomic had a huge smile on his face, and he waved to the fans as he was carried off the pitch, his smile becoming even wider when the foals cheered and waved back.

“Atomic.”

“You guys played one hay of a game, I’m proud of all of you,” Mr Cobalt said, high-fiving his players.

“Atomic.”

“ATOMIC!”






“Huh?”

Atomic turned his head away from the window and saw his history teacher Miss Chrysanthemum frowning down at him. At the desk next to him, Thunderhoof shook his head apologetically and mouthed that he had tried to warn him.

“Is this lesson boring for you?”

Atomic shook his head and apologised for being distracted, and the teacher went back to the front of the class and continued the lesson. Atomic opened up his textbook to the page that the rest of the class were on, and he was soon fully focused on the lesson.

“Come in.”

Maverick and Moon Dust came into the classroom and informed Miss Chrysanthemum that ponies on the hoofball team needed to come with them to the field for practise. Atomic, Thunderhoof, Blaze, Mustang and Pablo immediately put their belongings away and headed out.

“Alright guys, good luck and don't forget to read Chapter 8, we'll be covering it next lesson.”

Atomic was the last to leave and he closed the door quietly.

Maverick grinned. “You guys ready to win today?”

“Yeah,” the others replied, and they walked through the corridors towards the back doors. Pablo walked behind the others quietly and alone, sparing a few glances at the others.

When they reached the field, the colts were surprised by the field’s new addition; two goals that were on opposite ends of the field. The field had also been converted into a football pitch with all of the necessary markings on the field, including thick white lines that bordered the pitch. The team were currently warming up on the field and Mr Cobalt shouted at the arriving colts to take their kits and get changed quickly.

Banoffee Pie ran over to the colts as they headed towards the changing rooms.

“Thunderhoof! Blaze! I need to tell you something.”

Thunderhoof and Blaze trotted over to Banoffee and the three ponies spoke quickly before Banoffee went back onto the pitch.

“What was he telling you?” Atomic asked.

“He said that I’m gonna be playing the first half and Blaze will switch with me for the second half,” Thunderhoof replied.

“At least you both get to play,” Moon Dust commented.

Ten minutes later, the colts had gotten changed into their kits and pads, and Thunderhoof helped the others fasten their helmets.

“He got us a decent kit,” Maverick remarked, checking himself in the mirror. Sycamore’s home kit consisted of a maroon red as the base colour with a yellow stripe down the middle and the jersey number in white. The shoulder straps also had yellow stripes on them, and the helmets had the school logo (a sycamore tree) on both sides.

“I’m just glad he didn’t spell my name wrong, that would’ve been embarrassing,” Thunderhoof added.

The colts quickly left he changing rooms and went on to the field. Their teammates had already been split into their respective units, and the kickers were practising kicking from the twenty-five yard line.

“Three laps of the field as your warm-up!” Mr Cobalt announced, and Moon Dust quickly took charge of the warm-up.

When they had finished their warm-up, Mr Cobalt called everypony over and informed them that kickoff would be at three-fifty instead of four o’clock and that the Buccaneers would be arriving soon.

“There’s a play I came up that I want to practise, so let’s hurry up. Offense and defense, twenty-five yard line please.”

The two units waited whilst Thunderhoof and Mr Cobalt discussed the play. Thunderhoof quickly ran back onto the pitch and told his teammates the play.

Thunderhoof received the snap and took a five-step drop back, the offensive line giving him good protection in the pockets. He scanned all of his options and threw a screen pass to Pablo, who was able to break a tackle and take the ball to the thirty-seven yard line.

“Sir, they’re here!”

Next to the canteen was a gate that connected the field to the front of the school, and the Buccaneers’ head coach unlocked the gate to let his team through.

Sycamore’s hoofball team went quiet and watched their opponents make their way onto the field, noting that there were several coaches accompanying them. 

Coach Storm Shaker was the first to reach Me Cobalt, and the two quickly shook hooves.

“Which side of the pitch do you guys want?” 

The field was quickly split into two to accommodate both teams, and as the bell rang ten minutes into pre-game practise, pupils flooded towards the field to watch their team.

“Woah, they really did that?!”

Atomic pointed out the banners for Thunderhoof, most of which had encouraging messages on them teamed with the school’s emblem.

“Guys!”

Chestnut came galloping through the field to Atomic and Thunderhoof, and they trotted to the sidelines.

“You guys looking forward to the match?”

“We’re looking forward to winning,” Atomic replied with a grin.

Chestnut held up the camera he was holding. “Good, because the school paper wants me to get pictures for next week’s article.”

The sidelines quickly became packed with Sycamore students cheering for their team, and even a few teachers had come out onto the field to watch the match.

“Sycamore! Sycamore! Sycamore!”

The pupils’ cheers started to gain volume and even some teachers joined in with the chants. As Atomic caught a ball from Thunderhoof, he high-fived a few of his classmates standing on the sidelines, assuring them that they would get a good show. He spotted Amber standing towards the back of the crowd and waved at her, giving her a huge smile that she eagerly returned.

At three forty-three, the four referees (all wearing black and white striped shirts, black caps and had yellow flags tucked into their sleeves) for the match arrived and they quickly ran onto the pitch, apologising for being late. The colts cleared the pitch and stood at their respective benches on opposite sides of the pitch. On the other side of the pitch, a few yards away from where the Buccaneers were, a table had been set up by two teachers with a whiteboard and marker on it to keep score.

Mr Cobalt sprinted over to his team and told them to gather in front of him.

“There’s one more thing that I forgot to announce; our captains. For today’s match, Thunderhoof, you’re leading the offense and Maverick, you’ll be the defensive captain. Special teams, I’ll decide who your captain will be next week.”

The team applauded and Atomic patted Thunderhoof’s back, confident that Thunderhoof was the right choice for captain.

“If the two captains could come onto the field, please,” the head referee announced, and Thunderhoof and Alizarin joined the referees at the centre of the pitch.

Thunderhoof sprinted back to his team. “I won the coin toss, and I chose to receive the ball.”

“Alright, hooves in.”

The colts all placed a hoof in the middle.

“I know we’re going up against a team with a lot more experience, but I want you all to work together, play hard and give it your all. No matter what happens, when the final whistle blows, I want each and every one of you to come off the field knowing that you tried your hardest. Sycamore on three. 1, 2, 3-”

“SYCAMORE!”

Both special teams ran onto the pitch and lined up in their respective formations; the Buccaneers all standing in a straight line on their thirty-five yard line, and the home team waited to receive the ball in a 5-3-2-1 formation, with Stormcaller waiting at the back of the pitch to catch the ball.

The whistle was blown and the Buccaneers’ kicker powerfully bucked the ball. Sycamore’s special team quickly moved back to keep progress of the ball, and Stormcaller dropped back to catch the ball at the three-yard line.

Stormcaller saw the large gap to his right and headed straight towards it, reaching the gap just as he passed the fifteen-yard mark. Ahead of him, two Buccaneers players had gotten past their blockers and they quickly brought Stormcalller down for a return of twenty-six yards, which meant that Sycamore's offensive would start their opening drive at the twenty-nine yard line.

Mr Cobalt opened up his notebook and showed Thunderhoof the first play he wanted the offense to run, and Thunderhoof relayed the information to his teammates. Sycamore’s offense ran onto the pitch where their opponents were waiting for them and both teams lined up on the twenty-nine yard line, with Thunderhoof taking position directly behind the center.

“Hut, hut!”

The center snapped the ball too hard and it bounced off Thunderhoof’s hooves, forcing the quarterback to chase after it and fall on top of it to avoid turning the ball over to the linebackers that had caught up to him. 

“Dammit, we lost seven yards,” Mr Cobalt muttered, flicking through his notebook desperately to find another play.

Both teams went off the pitch and returned to their coaches.

“Right, Pablo, you’re getting the ball for this play,” Mr Cobalt announced, giving out blocking assignments to the rest of the offense.

When the next play began, Thunderhoof handed the ball off to Pablo. Sycamore’s running back had an instant impact on the game, carrying the ball fifteen yards before he was pushed out of bounds.

The pupils cheered loudly for Pablo and he lapped up the attention, juggling the ball with his hooves. 

“Pablo, come on! Stop showing off and get over here!” Thunderhoof yelled.

Thunderhoof had to drag Pablo away from the crowd, and the running back smirked as he joined his teammates.

“They love me.”

Sycamore’s coach decided to call a running play again and the two teams ran back onto the pitch to resume play. As he watched the defense line up in their formation, Thunderhoof noticed that most of the defenders were standing closely behind the defensive line, and he realised that the defense were most likely going to blitz. This would make the running play ineffective, and Thunderhoof decided to do something he had heard his favourite quarterback (La Salle) do.

“Er….27 post, 9 go, 20 protect!”

Atomic, Starburst and Pablo looked at Thunderhoof, clearly confused. Thunderhoof repeated the commands again, but his teammates were still confused.

“Delay of game, offense. Ten yard penalty, repeat first down,” the head referee announced after blowing his whistle.

The students and teachers booed as both teams came off the pitch.

“They were gonna blitz us, I was trying to change the play. I was telling you two to run go and post routes, and you were supposed to an extra blocker for me,” Thunderhoof explained. “I completely forgot about the game clock!”

“Alright, it's fine. We still have twelve minutes left in this quarter to score, we’re fine.”

In his notebook, Mr Cobalt made a note to call a team meeting next week to come up with codes for different plays. He also added that he needed to meet with Thunderhoof to come up with a group of backup plays he could call at the scrimmage line.

Thirty seconds later, the two teams lined up for a first and 20 at the thirty-five yard line, with eleven and a half minutes left in the first quarter.

“Hut!”

Mr Cobalt had decided to call a play action, with Starburst as the primary receiver. 

Thunderhoof took the snap and quickly dropped back. The four receivers for the play (Atomic, Starburst, Pacific Sail and another wide receiver) set off on their respective routes. Pablo was also doing a decent job blocking, helping to keep the pocket clear for Thunderhoof. The quarterback’s primary option was running in open space and Thunderhoof stepped up and threw the ball.

Starburst arrived at the thirty-yard line and caught the ball, using his height as an advantage to jump higher than his defender. He quickly balanced himself when he landed and galloped straight towards the end zone, outpacing the nearest defenders to score.
Sycamore pupils and teachers cheered loudly as Starburst celebrated in the end zone, throwing the ball down hard. As his teammates ran over to him to celebrate, the teacher holding the whiteboard at the score desk wrote ‘6’ underneath Sycamore. 

As the offense came off the pitch, Starburst was mobbed by the other players, receiving high-fives and pats on the back.

Mr Cobalt was one of the flast to congratulate Starburst. “Good job, keep it up.”

Both teams’ special units came onto the pitch for the extra point attempt, and the kicker’s nerves were as clear as day. He slowly lined up behind the placeholder (who was also the team’s punter) and tried to calm himself.

Sycamore’s placeholder quickly handled the ball and the kicker bucked it with his hind legs, immediately turning around to see if his kick was good.

As the ball flew between the uprights to give Sycamore a seven-point lead, the special teams came off, and two minutes later, the Buccaneers had returned the kick to start their drive from the nineteen-yard line.

“Let’s go defence, let’s get a stop now,” Mr Cobalt called out as Sycamore’s defence went onto the pitch.

The Buccaneers’ first play was a good one; the offensive line were able to hold back Maverick and the other defensive linemen to keep the pocket open for Alabaster, and he delivered a clean pass to a receiver for a first down at the thirty-yard line.

The next snap saw Alabaster hand the ball off to the running back, who was able to gain six yards for a second down, before another rushing attack by the offense saw the Buccaneers move downfield to the halfway line.

“Their pass and rush protection’s a lot better than I thought it would be, they’re not letting anypony get through,” Maverick said to his teammates on the sidelines, breathing heavily as the defence came off the pitch.

“We need to counter their run game, let’s go for it for this one.”

Mr Cobalt told the defense to blitz Alabaster and both teams returned onto the field. Alabaster stepped back and surveyed the offense, trying to decipher what sort of coverage they were playing. He quickly realised that his running play would be ineffective against the defense’s likely blitz, and he quickly rushed forward to stand directly behind his center.

“Blue 42, blue 42!”

Alabaster’s commands had their desired effects instantly; the wide receivers shifted further away from the offensive line, and the running back moved a few steps forward.
By changing the play, Alabaster had saved his team from a potentially huge loss of yards, and the outcome of the audible were almost instantaneous. As soon as the ball was snapped, Sycamore’s defensive line, linebackers and half of their secondary rushed forward, leaving a huge amount of space for the wide receivers to run their routes. Alabaster was able to stay calm in the pocket, and he threw a perfect pass, which was caught by his tallest receiver, and he ran the length of the pitch for a 50-yard touchdown.

The crowd fell silent as the Buccaneers celebrated, with some pupils booing loudly. The extra point attempt was good and the Buccaneers allowed the clock to run, meaning that at the end of the first quarter, the score was tied 7-7.






“We’re not gonna let them beat us at home, are we?!”

“NO!”

“Then let’s go out there and get the win!”

“YEAH!”

Mr Cobalt watched Maverick led the defence back onto the pitch, pleased that the young defensive tackle was a natural leader. He watched the two teams line up on both sides of the scrimmage line, and the teacher glanced at the game clock. After the first quarter, both teams had slowed down in terms of scoring, with Sycamore scoring two field goals whilst the Buccaneers only scored one. However, the last drive had seen the home team unable to take the lead, and with four minutes left of the match, the Buccaneers led 15-10.

Alabaster dropped back and waited for his pass targets to get open.

“OOF!”

Mr Cobalt had moved Maverick onto the edge of the offensive line, believing that he could do more damage there. When the play began, Maverick had pushed past the left tackle and delivered a crushing sack to the unsuspecting quarterback fo a loss of seven yards.

On the next play, Alabaster performed a clean hand-off to his running back, but he was stopped after a gain of two yards by Moon Dust, and this set up a third and 15 on the Buccaneers’ thirty-yard line.

“Come on guys, stop them one more time,” Thunderhoof muttered on the sidelines, hoping that the offense would get onto the field with enough time to win.

Alabaster allowed the game clock to continue running, and when he only had three seconds left to begin the third down, he called for the snap. Unfortunately for Sycamore, Alabaster scrambled to his right and completed a twenty-yard pass to his tight end for a first down.

“We’re not gonna have enough time to score,” Mr Cobalt gabbled, and he quickly called a timeout, stopping the game clock at two minutes and fifty-nine seconds.

“We can get the ball back, we just have to stop their pass game,” Maverick told the other defenders as they came off the pitch.

On the other side of the field, the Buccaneers’ offense appeared relaxed as they huddled around their head coach. Atomic watched Alabaster point to different parts of the pitch, apparently giving out routes to his receivers.

“Hey, Maverick, come here a sec!”

Maverick quickly came over.

“What’s up?”

“Look at what they’re doing!”

Atomic and Maverick discreetly watched their opponents’ timeout, and when they prepared to go back onto the pitch, Maverick grinned.

“Atomic, you may have just won us the game.”

Maverick dashed back to the other defenders and told them what he’d seen. The referees instructed the two teams to come back onto the pitch to resume the game.

“Hut!”

Alabaster faked the handoff to his running back and waited for his primary target (the slot receiver) to get open. The quarterback timed the pass perfectly and threw the ball across the middle of the field.

Before the snap, Maverick had assigned Banoffee with covering the slot receiver, and the cornerback easily kept up with his opponent. When the receiver jumped to catch the ball, Banoffee rose up above him and snatched the ball away.

“YES!” Sycamore’s bench yelled.

Banoffee carried the ball for another seven yards before Alabaster finally tackled him at the forty-three yard line.

Banoffee was mobbed by his teammates as the defense came off the pitch.

“Didn’t I tell you we were gonna get a stop?!”
Maverick said, and Banoffee grinned.

“Alright, settle down now everypony.”

Mr Cobalt waited for silence before choosing a play for the offense to run, and Atomic was pleased to hear that he would be the primary receiver.

Sycamore’s first play at the halfway line went well; Atomic was able to catch a five-yard pass and added a seven-yard carry to the play to set up another first down in the Buccaneers’ own half. On the next play, Thunderhoof threw a screen pass to Pablo for a gain of two yards.

The Sycamore pupils raised the volume of their chants. “Let’s go Sycamore, let’s go!”

The game clock had just gone under the one minute mark when the two teams lined up opposite each other on the scrimmage line.

“Hut!”

Pablo took the handoff and quickly got the first down, running out of bounds at the eighteen-yard mark.

The offense quickly came back onto the pitch and Thunderhoof spiked the ball, stopping the clock at twenty three seconds.

Atomic caught up to Thunderhoof as they went off the pitch. “Thunder, tell coach to get me the ball. My defender's not covering me properly on the corner routes.”

“He isn’t?”

“Nope.”

Thunderhoof told Mr Cobalt the news and he then called a play action, instructing Atomic to run a corner route to the end zone.

This is my chance to win the game for our team. I can’t mess this up.

Both teams lined up on the 17 yard line for the first down, and the centre snapped the ball to Thunderhoof.

He isn’t covering me properly, just as I predicted.

Atomic quickly got open in the end zone, and he turned around, expecting the ball to be heading his way. But the ball had never left Thunderhoof, and the quarterback was helped up by two teammates.

The next play saw the defense stop Pablo from gaining any yards. With twelve seconds left of the game, the home team had to overcome a third-and-fifteen at the twenty-three yard line.

“Hut hut!”

The offensive line were finally able to keep the pocket open for Thunderhoof, with Pablo providing additional pass protection. The quarterback stepped up and threw the ball to Atomic.

In the end zone, Atomic pushed past his defender and jumped up for the ball, confident that he would come down with it. But the Buccaneers had other ideas.

And I get the touchd-

In a last-second attempt to hold onto the lead, the cornerback marking Atomic batted the ball away before the receiver could catch it. Pablo instinctively sprinted forward to catch the pass, and fortunately came down with it. Atomic, Starburst and Pacific Sail immediately provided blocks for their teammate, and just as the game clock hit zero, Pablo scored his first (and the game-winning) touchdown.

“This is the end of the game. Sycamore wins 16-15.”  

Pablo threw the ball up in celebration, and he was carried off the pitch by the others, the Buccaneers walking off dejectedly.

The celebrations were paused to shake hooves with the Buccaneers. Once that was over, the referees declared that Maverick was the player of the game, and he was given the match ball.

Chestnut snapped several pictures of the school team, deciding that the photo of Pablo being carried off the pitch was the best picture for the front page of the school paper’s next issue.

“I know you guys wanna celebrate, but lemme just say something to you,” Mr Cobalt said, pushing his way onto the pitch to get to his team. He eventually made it to them and stood in the middle of the huddle.

“You guys played one heck of a game today, and you should all be proud of yourselves. I know I am. You left everything you had on the field and got the win!”

Sycamore pupils ran onto the pitch to celebrate with their team, and the field was quickly overrun with foals and teachers alike.

“Atomic. Atomic. Atomic!”

Amber tapped Atomic’s shoulder and waited for him to turn around.

“You were amazing. I knew you’d win!”

“I wasn’t amazing, but the team was.”

Amber shook her head. “You’re being too hard on yourself. Without you, the team wouldn’t have won.”

A few yards away from them, some students were chanting Pablo’s name, and he eagerly sang along, declaring himself the greatest.

Atomic watched the celebrations and groaned. “We’re never gonna hear the end of this.






“She’s ready to see you.”

Two hours after the match at school, Atomic, Amber, Thunderhoof and Syracuse had travelled to Amber’s home on the other side of town, and they were about to speak to Amber’s social worker and the head care worker of the foal’s home.

“Have a seat. Tea or coffee?”

“Black coffee, please,” Syracuse replied.

“So, Amber tells me that you would like to take her to a hoofball match?”

“Yes, to the Dragons’ match on Sunday to be precise,” Syracuse replied.

“Do you have the tickets with you now?”

Syracuse nodded and took the four tickets out of his bag, sliding them across to the head care worker. Once she had determined that the tickets were genuine, she pushed them back to Syracuse. The secretary came into the room with Syracuse’s coffee, and she put it down on the table in front of him.

“So you would collect her at ten o’clock, and bring her back at nine?”

“That’s correct.”

“Okay, I just need to sign here and here.”

Syracuse read the two pages the head care worker had given him (informing him that he was responsible for Amber’s well-being and he would be held accountable if anything went wrong) and he signed the bottom of both of the pages.

Five minutes later, the meeting came to an end and Amber said goodbye to the others, assuring them that she would be ready on Sunday morning. The journey home in the carriage was silent.

“Storm Shaker talked to me,” Thunderhoof suddenly said.

“What did he say?” Atomic asked.

“He just said that I played well today and wished me luck for the future.”

“He’s probably wishing he didn’t start Alabaster over you,” Atomic said, and Thunderhoof nodded.

The carriage stopped outside Thunderhoof’s house and Syracuse paid the driver as the colts got of the back.

“Maybe I should try and get Nick Foals to sign my jersey.”

“I got lucky last time. But there’s no harm in trying.”

“Atomic, your dinner's getting cold. Hurry up and get inside!”

Atomic and Thunderhoof agreed to meet up tomorrow afternoon to play outside, and the two said goodbye and headed into their homes.

Atomic sat at the dining table and Tea Tose put a plate of pasta down in front of him “So, how was your day?”

“Great.”