^Jack was the fourth one to arrive on the scene surprisingly. To be honest, he thought that he was going to be one of the last ones there, barely getting anything remotely resembling a gift. That is, of course, if he even arrived there at all. The holidays brought about many different feelings in many different individuals. Some were overenthusiastic, reveling in everything that they had to offer and enjoying every minute of it. On the opposite end of the spectrum, there were those that dreaded the holidays; they were a point of contention and annoyance. For Jack, it varied from second to second. He was the kind of horse that made his decisions based on thorough examination and thinking things through. He had yet to make up his mind on the whole deal, and this was one of the deciding factors. If all went well, he might have a positive outlook on things. And if this all went wrong, then it might be tainted forever. It was hard to get a horse like him to change his mind once it was made up. Only a few had managed to do that in the span of eight years, and even then it was like pulling teeth; those were the lucky ones. The stallion was not intentionally this way, it was just his nature. He had a mind of his own, and was going to put it to good use. He was not just some follower of the crowd that went with the temporary, popular trends.

If one was not looking for him initially, they might have just passed the stallion on by without prior notice. This seemed to be an event of little words though, and both that approached Delila before then did not say much. The loud, obnoxious confetti throwers had not joined the festivities yet, thank heaven. Jack probably would have turned around and left. The desire to observe and hopefully get something would not be worth his while then. Critical and quiet were adjectives often used to describe him, but crazed and chaotic were not. The man watched the first two blokes get their gifts, one more of a struggle than the other. A small hum reverberated on Jack’s lips. This was a precarious balancing act concerning good and bad. When beckoned forward, he walked a few steps, and gave a low nod of his head. Jack Frost’s milk chocolate tones then came forth acknowledging the lady respectfully. “Ma’am,” he said. In his opinion, there was not much else to say. He did not want to plead for a gift or anything of that sort. It was a “first come, first served” thing, and what you got, you got, end of story. One thing that the man hoped against was those thieves coming back. The dark blue stallion that defended his present seemed to know his way around a battling ring. Quiet as it was kept, so did Jack, but he didn’t want to prove that fact.