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Ellen pulled her hood over her head, trying to blend in. No use. People shot dirty looks, snickered, pointed... Everywhere she went, she was teased. Tears slipped down her cheeks. She wiped them away with her sleeve, but the fabric slipped from her hand and fell down to her elbow, showing the scars on her wrist.
Raz watched, smiling. "this is Ibn Al Asad Amir. it means "son of the lion prince" in arabic. I bought him as a colt from a Bedouin when my family was in Saudi Arabia. He is 5 years old now." he said, stroking the magnificent horses head.