Thistle made good time over the hard packed road, bounding along at a surprisingly fast clip, one more curve and she would be in the final stretch. She could see the bell tower on the schoolhouse, and could imagine her teacher, Mrs. Gardner, at the entrance scanning for stragglers. If she could top this rise she might just hold the bell in time for Thistle not to be called tardy!

Then she hit the gravel, her overinflated hooves began to slip as she went into the turn. She locked up and skidded into the grass, having spun a full 180 degrees around. Fortunately she did not fall over, or dump her saddlebags. She stopod there for a moment panting, then she felt it, as well as heard it.

Hissing came from all four of her hooves, sharp stones, as well as other road hazards had taken their toll. She slowly walked out of the grass. Something snagged her tail with a pop. Lifting it up, a discarded horseshoe fell to the ground.

“Nuts!” The disgusted filly began to sink down. In the distance, the late bell rang.


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When you're late, the troubles start! =^^;