Disclaimer: I own all the characters in this story. "Child of the Mustangs" was actually inspired by the Elizabeth Hall book called "Child of the Wolves."

And now, I present to you, "Child of the Mustangs."

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It was a brisk, spring afternoon on the High Hopes Ranch in Nevada. The month was May and already, the wilderness near the ranch was full of life. Herds of mustangs bolted by, little foals running alongside their dams. Birds were feeding their young chicks. And the ten broodmares who lived on the farm as well as the five donkey mares were no exception to the miracle of life that was upon them.

Standing in one of the ranch’s fenced pastures was a pregnant donkey mare. She was nine summers old and a silver gray color. Her sea green eyes looked upwards at the blue sky as she thought of the life she was carrying within her. The humans who owned the ranch called her Cornelia.

“Oh, Victor,” she whispered as she smiled sadly at the puffy white clouds that sailed in the sky like boats. “If only you could’ve lived long enough to see your foal being born. I know that you’ll be so proud of him or her, and you’d be a great sire to that foal.”

Victor was a donkey just like Cornelia, a dull gray. His muzzle, the tips of his ears, and his pasterns were a steel gray. He’d been an old stallion, at the age of twenty-four. Despite the age difference between Cornelia and Victor, they’d fallen in love when she’d come to the High Hopes Ranch two autumns ago, after she’d been bought from...him.

His name was Robert Quinn, but the donkey usually referred to him as just “Quinn.” Cornelia was sold to him when she was one summer old, by her mother’s owner. At first, he was kind; he fed, groomed, and cared for her properly. But that was when his wife, Anna, was alive. But when she died in a car accident one year after Cornelia was bought by Quinn, he turned harsh and evil, ultimately blaming his wife’s death on the young donkey. He whipped, starved, and changed her named to “Fea,” which was Spanish for “ugly.” At first, Cornelia didn’t know this, but when Quinn’s guard dog Dyke, a mix between a German Sheppard and a wolfhound, told her this, she was furious with Quinn. She yearned to strike at that wretched man, to bite and kick at whatever she could reach. But she couldn’t; her mother told her that no matter what, you must never attack your owner. So, Cornelia endured Quinn’s abuse for three years. Then, one day, when she was five a police man arrested Quinn for animal cruelty, and Cornelia was finally free of him.

She had stayed with an animal doctor for nearly three moons and was given to the High Hopes Ranch, and there, she met Victor. The two had mated last June, but in August, Victor got extremely ill. At first, the ranch’s owner, Mr. Dolan, thought he’d pull through it, but sadly, it wasn’t so. In September, his illness had gotten worse, and on October the third, Mr. Dolan had Victor put down. It was a dark day for Cornelia. Her mate was buried not to far from the ranch’s entrance.

And after all that’d happened to her, Cornelia was all right. Though her mate was gone, she had friends here, and a foal was on the way for her.

“Cornelia!” a voice exclaimed. The silver gray mare turned to see one of her friends, a rime gray donkey named Phoebe. Like Cornelia, she was in foal, but the sire of the unborn foal was known as Hugo, who was younger than Victor, and still alive.

“Hey, Phoebe,” Cornelia said, her sea green orbs meeting Phoebe’s hazel ones. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” the other donkey replied as she came alongside Cornelia. “You still miss Victor, huh? Wish he were here?”

“Yes, Phoebe. But I’m glad for you; your mate Hugo is still alive.” Hugo and Phoebe had been mates for four years.

“That’s right.” Phoebe glanced towards the rest of the donkey mares. There were four other jennies, or female donkeys, on the High Hopes Ranch asides from Cornelia and Phoebe, known as Nancy, Henrietta, Miranda, and Tabitha, who was the newest. Just two days ago, Nancy had given birth to a lanky, dark gray colt, named Bernard by the humans. Bernard’s sire was Victor, just like Cornelia’s unborn foal as well as the unborn foal of Miranda. Four days before that, Henrietta had her second foal, a colt who was named Maverick, sired by Hugo.

“Want to go and chat with the other mares?” Phoebe asked. Cornelia shook her head and replied, “No thanks, that’s all right.” Phoebe shrugged, muttered a “Suit yourself,” and trotted off to converse with Miranda.

A small yet firm kick from the unborn foal within her womb made Cornelia glance at her stomach. “You’re almost ready to come out, aren’t you?” she humorously whispered. “Well, when you’re born, you’ll be a strong one. I can feel it.” She smiled at this.

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Later that afternoon, when the sun was going down, the two stable handlers, Lizzie and Kyle, came to the pasture to fetch the donkey mares.

“Take Cornelia in first, Kyle,” Lizzie ordered. “Mr. Dolan says that she’s getting close to giving birth, and if it’ll be tonight, then I don’t want her giving birth out here.” “Yes, Liz,” Kyle said as he hooked a lead line to the pregnant donkey’s purple halter, whispering in an encouraging tone, “Come on, Cornelia, you sweet girl. Let’s go inside to the nice warm stable.”

On the High Hopes Ranch, the donkeys were put in a smaller stable, separate from the fifteen horses that were there. Cornelia was led inside; where she saw the empty stalls of Phoebe, Miranda, Nancy, Henrietta, and Tabitha (the stalls of Miranda and Nancy were on her left and her stall as well as those of Phoebe and Tabitha was on the right). On the far left of the stable was the stall of Hugo, one of the two breeding donkeys on the ranch, and on the right, was Victor’s old stall. Cornelia thought the humans would leave it empty in his memory, but shortly after the passing of Victor, Mr. Dolan went and bought another donkey stallion. His name was Elijah, and his stall was next to Phoebe’s. He was known to be exceptionally rude to everyone, even to his own kind.

“Oh, look at the fat mare hobbling in,” Elijah sneered as Cornelia was led into her stall, his brown eyes filled with malice. The mare tried her best to ignore him as he continued. “Hey, Cornelia, did you gain a ton or—”

“Shut up, Elijah,” Phoebe snapped as she was led into her stall. “She’s pregnant and she might be having her foal soon. So show some respect for her. Or else.” She bared her teeth at the last statement. Elijah rolled his eyes and muttered an apology.

Glad to be in her stall, Cornelia laid down and let out a sigh of relief. Tabitha, who was in the stall on her left, peered through an opening and questioned, “Hey Cornelia, do you feel any… you know…contractions?” The silver jenny shook her head. “No? Well, I don’t mean to startle you, but I heard Mr. Dolan say that your foal might arrive sooner than you expect.”

“Oh, Tabitha,” Cornelia sighed. “I don’t believe in silly things like that. Superstition, I think of it to be.” Tabitha glanced at her in suspicion, muttered something under her breath, and then moved away from the opening.

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Later that night, when everyone was asleep, Cornelia awoke to feeling the unborn foal kicking. At first, she grew nervous, but when the kicking slowly began to subside, the jenny relaxed and laid her head down, but then, the kicking within her resumed, again. Nervous, she whispered, “Phoebe!”

“What is it?” said the rime gray jenny, looking out of the opening with sleepy eyes.

“Ph-Ph-Phoebe, I-I think it’s c-c-coming!” Cornelia whispered with fright. “It’s t-t-time!” The rime gray donkey’s hazel eyes widened with shock. “What? Are you sure? Because I think it’s just—”

“Yes, Phoebe, I’m sure! Quick, Kyle’s in here; go wake him up! Hurry!” She grunted in pain when a contraction shook her body. Seconds later, her water broke and she brayed out in fear.

Meanwhile, Phoebe looked out of her stall door at the sleeping human known as Kyle. He was leaned against a barrel of hay. “Wake up, human!” Phoebe brayed. “Cornelia’s giving birth; you gotta help her!” It worked, for Kyle jumped up in alarm and saw Phoebe motioning with her head towards Cornelia’s stall. “What is it, girl?” Kyle asked, half-awake. “Is something—” He got to Phoebe’s stall, but when he turned to check on Cornelia, he gasped in shock when he saw two small hooves coming out of the young jenny.

“Oh my God…Lizzie! Mr. Dolan!” Kyle shouted as he ran out of the barn. “Come here, quick! Cornelia’s giving birth!”

Within minutes, the donkey stable was awake and all attention was focused on Cornelia. Lizzie, Kyle, and Mr. Dolan were in her stall, helping the donkey deliver her foal safely.

“Oh Eqqus…it hurts,” Cornelia moaned in pain.

“It’s gonna be okay, pal,” Tabitha assured her. “You’re going to be just fine. The humans are here and they’ll help you out.”

From across the aisle, in Nancy’s stall, the colt Bernard awoke and stood up beside his dam, who’d heard Cornelia’s cries. “Momma, what’s happenin’?” the lanky colt questioned. His dam glanced down at him, her brown eyes meeting his blue-and-brown ones.

“It’s Auntie Cornelia, my little Bernie,” she replied softly. “She’s having her foal, who’s going to be your new half-sibling.” Then, she turned back to listening to the voices coming from Cornelia’s stall. Bernard’s brown and blue eyes widened at his dam’s reply and he exclaimed quietly, “I’m gonna have a new brother or sister!” Moving silently over to a far end in his and his dam’s stall, he poked his muzzle through a small hole in the wood. On the other side of this hole was the stall of Henrietta and her steel gray colt, Maverick, the eldest donkey colt on the High Hopes Ranch.

“Maverick!” he whispered. “Are you there? Did you hear what’s going on with Auntie Cornelia?”

“What? What is it?” said Maverick on the other side. He was a light gray like his dam, with tiny speckles of white on his hindquarters. His eyes were pale brown, like Hugo’s.

“I’m gonna have a new half-brother or half-sister!” Bernard said happily. “Auntie Cornelia’s having her foal right now.”

“What? No way!”

And the two young colts whispered excitedly to each other, their tails swishing with excitement. Their mothers didn’t pay any attention to them. Instead, they were focused on the stall of Cornelia.

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Meanwhile, in her stall, Cornelia was struggling to bring life into the world. Despite the fact that Mr. Dolan, Kyle, and Lizzie were helping her, Cornelia wasn’t assured. In fact, she was scared to death over this.

“Oh, Victor!” Cornelia thought as she gave a hard pushed. Only the foal’s front legs and muzzle were out. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore…ugh…I didn’t know giving birth would be so hard. Sure, I wanted to be a mother, but I didn’t think it’d be so hard…”

“Come on, Cornelia girl!” Mr. Dolan encouraged her. “You can do this; push girl, push!” Cornelia tried to, but she gave up.

“Oh, who am I kidding?” Cornelia thought as she let out a groan. “It’s too hard…I think I’m going to die…”

“Cornelia!” said a voice in her mind. “Don’t say that!”

The jenny’s sea green eyes were wide with surprise. “Victor, is that you?”

“Yes, my dear. It’s me, Victor.”

“Oh, Vic! I’m so glad to hear you. I…I just can’t do it anymore…it’s too hard…”

“Yes you can, Cornelia, I know you can. C’mon, girl, you can do this. You’re tough; you were able to keep standing strong when you pulled that plow for Mr. Dolan when his tractor broke. Even though I’m dead and in that big green field in the sky, I’ll always look out for both you and our foal, who’s almost born. So c’mon, Cornelia, do it…for me.” Then, Victor’s voice was gone.

Cornelia’s ears went back as she realized this. “I can do it…yes! I can do it, Vic! I know I can!” And as her mind flicked back to reality, she felt Mr. Dolan’s hand on her neck, saying encouragingly, “Come on, Cornelia, you can do it! C’mon, give a nice push…” Remembering her deceased mate’s words of encouragement, she pushed with all her might, stopping briefly to catch her breath. By now, the foal was almost out.

“That’s it, pal!” she heard Phoebe exclaim. “Give just one more push and it’ll be out! You’re almost there.” The other jennies were chanting her name.

Realizing all the encouragement being poured on her like rain, Cornelia took in a deep breath and gave a final, great push.

“That’s it, girl! You did it!” said one of the humans, though she didn’t know which one it was.

Cornelia laid on her side, panting heavily, a smile on her face. “I did it,” she thought. “I did it…for Victor. I know he’ll be so proud. But the foal…what does it look like?” She lifted her head and glanced behind her, at her newborn foal. And the moment she saw it, she couldn’t believe her own eyes.

The foal was a silver gray like its dam. Its muzzle, the tips of its ears, and its pasterns were steel gray, like Victor’s. On the left foreleg, however, was a short, white pastern. Its eyes were sea green like Cornelia’s.

Standing up, the new mother went to her foal so she could groom its silver pelt. When the newborn looked up at her, Cornelia said softly, “Welcome to the Earth, my child.” She then began to lick her new foal dry, like any mother should.

Lizzie, meanwhile, examined the newborn donkey as the new mother groomed it. “So, Liz,” said Kyle coolly. “Is the foal a boy or a girl?” “Hang on a sec, Kyle,” Lizzie replied. “I have to see to it first.” When she was done looking over the foal, Lizzie stood up and announced, “Congratulations, Cornelia, you’ve just given birth to a healthy little colt.”

“A colt,” she whispered as she watched her son struggle to stand up. “I’m so happy.”

“Say, Mr. Dolan, what’re we gonna name this fellow?” questioned Kyle, pointing to Cornelia’s colt. “He has to have a name.” “You’re right, Kyle,” Mr. Dolan replied. “He does need a name. I was thinking of something strong, like Paul or James. But on the other hand, maybe something plain, like Ben or Ryan.”

“How about the name Greyer?” suggested Lizzie. “I’ve always liked that name.”

“Maybe not,” Mr. Dolan said as he shook his head.

“How about Victor, after his sire?” piped up Kyle.

“I disagree on naming the little guy after his daddy,” Lizzie said. “This foal doesn’t look much like his sire with the exception of the steel gray places; his mother’s genes are much more dominant.”

“She’s right,” said Mr. Dolan to Kyle. “Maybe something…from the mind.” By this point, Cornelia’s new foal was already nursing from her.

“Wait, I’ve got one!” Lizzie cried. “How about…Lazarus?”

“Lazarus…that’s such an interesting name,” Mr. Dolan said in amusement, testing out the sound. “Okay Lizzie, you win. We’ll call him Lazarus. Now, let’s all get inside the house. Maybe tomorrow, one of the other jennies will have her foal, either Miranda or Phoebe. So far, only Henrietta, Nancy, and now Cornelia have had their foals.” And so, the humans left the donkey stable so Cornelia could bond with her newborn son.

“Wow, congrats on the birth of your colt, Cornelia!” Tabitha exclaimed joyously, once Mr. Dolan, Lizzie, and Kyle were gone. Elijah was asleep throughout the whole labor and didn’t seemingly pay any attention.

“Are you all right, friend?” Phoebe asked.

Cornelia, with a smile on her lips, turned to the rime gray jenny and said, “Yes, Phoebe, I’m okay now. At first, I didn’t think I’d make it, but then…I heard his voice.”

“Whose voice?”

“Victor’s, of course. He encouraged me to keep going, just when I though all was lost and I was going to die. I heard him in my mind.” She glanced down at the newly-named Lazarus, who was fast asleep now. “Even though he’s gone, Victor will still watch over me and Lazarus here, from that big green field in the sky.” And she added, in a soft voice, “One day, my son, you will grow up to become a legend. I can feel it…”

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Chapter 1 is over. The next chapter is where Lazarus will meet his playmates!!!

Read and Review, please!