I was a week old when I first when into the pasture. I found myself in the field with several other foals. I troted up to some colt who were racing.

Can I race with you?  I asked.

No thanks, Mutt!  Said a colt, who I have referred to as  Bad Colt.

With that he tackled me to the ground. He stood over me his ears pinned back. Then he started to bite me and kick me as he said, I will kill you, you pathetic Mutt. You are nothing compared to a high-risk Thoroughbred such as myself.

Another coat tackled him off of me he reared on his hind legs, pinning his ears, and cried, Get way for her! You Bad Colt.
Just then Grooms came to my rescue. They took that colt away along with his mother. The next day while I was in the pasture licking my wounds I saw  both of them load into a trailer and the trailer is departed that was the last I ever saw of Bad Colt. Or so I thought...

Sorry if it's short and seems pointless. It will work out later on for the story. When Froststella grows up the racing part of her life will be better than the part  of her early years. The next part would be even better. Would love for you to message me questions if that you have so far.