The four wagons of the traveling circus had been riding for four weeks straight. It had been mostly from city to city but the last four days they travelled the plains. This was the boring part of their job, their route would take them over the plains for four full weeks before they would finally be able to preform again. However that city was worth the wait. None could stop talking about it. It will be their biggest performance yet, with the biggest crowd and the wealthiest people they would ever see. It would be amazing. So they drove along this trail through the plains and set up camp at night in the open fields. The only shelter they had were the wagons.
The magician of the group had a way with cutlery and had been the chef from day one. He had shown more often then not that he could do wonders with the rations they had and made it into a fine dinner. This night, he had out done himself once more and the whole caravan was enjoying the meal with the stronger bottles of liquor they had packed for this awful ride. There was singing, dancing and laughing and you would think that the circus artist had something to celebrate.
On this night one of the gymnasts had horse duty, and had rubbed seven out of eight horses dry. When he looked up over the plains contemplating. Was all this, the life he had hoped? His eyes caught a weird shadow and he thought by himself that he had seen a pitch black horse, it was the first wild horse he had ever seen. Then he looked back at his group who were all laughing at the strongest man who couldn’t keep up with one of the dancers. The gymnast took a moment and saw the silly moves the strongest man made, a chuckle escaped him. Of course this was what he had dreamed of, a family of friends and an exciting adventure. The next morning breakfast was small and some complained that they had packed to little for the ride. However this bad start didn’t take over the journey and soon the jokes came back and hunger was forgotten.
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The second evening the meal was small but the liquor helped the circus family to be happy. The gymnast came up to the strongest man, who took care of the horses tonight, and asked “Do you need some help?” The strongest man took a sip of the cup the gymnast held, “Thanks, you helped me already.” The gymnast walked back to the group taking a look at the plains once more. This time a second horse caught his attention, this one was bright red and hard to miss. Thinking the liquor deceived him, he went back to the group and declined the offer to refill it.
The next morning the crew had to start their journey again with still rumbling bellies and low spirit. Slight irritations could be heard from the caravans and that third night the mood wasn’t celebratory at all. Still the liquor flowed, but the laughs had dried up. The gymnast had taken over the responsibilities of the clown this evening, just to get away from it all. Letting his eyes wonder once more, he found a third strange horse on the horizon. It was extremely pale and when the gymnast looked at it, it just looked back and neighed.
That morning the caravan quickly started again. The magician felt to sick to prepare a breakfast and so the circus ate the rations as they were. That day went downhill from there. Eventually the whole third wagon was ill and even the Ringmaster felt the need to lay down in the third wagon. The gymnast took over manning the fourth wagon and as the sun went down and the fourth night came none felt up to set up camp. The gymnast looked at the white horses of his wagon and decided to ride through the fourth night, to great the sunrise that morning.