Quote:
Chromasia smiled down at him. "Hello, young child," she said.
Prisma sniffed at her mother's hay net, liking the sweet smell of alfalfa.
"No reason much," he said, waving a hand and walking towards the meadow. When he saw Don, he shouted, "Phillips!"
"Hewwo!" He replied.
"Any problems?" Don asked.
"I'm Chromasia. That over there is Prisma. What is your name?"
"Mumma, he don have a nim!" Prisma shouted.
"Is that so?" Chromasia asked.
"Not really, but...what were you doing with that colt? He's weak, under-sized, and he has whip lashes on his back. He looks to be only a day old or so, too," the man said.