"It may be one and the same," Tommy says, basket in hand. There's a small blanket over top of it, and in the distance there is a small noise of horses approaching. Tommy smiles and sets the basket down on the grass, approaching the paddock fence and putting a foot up.

The first toward the fence was a gray pony, tossing his head and looking proud of himself. Tommy smiles slightly, waiting for the pony to come up to him and reaching for him, murmuring sweet nothings as he ran his fingers up into his forelock.