I was one week old when Dan came to us and put a halter on my mother. He led her out of the box and I followed her, so that Dan would not leave me alone without my mother in the stable. Tightly pressed against my mother, we ran out into the yard, which I had often looked at from the paddock. Some people hurried by. Then we passed the large paddock where the other, older foals were playing together. Too gladly I would now to them, but we went still a piece further on a narrow, not tarred way. Beside us grew on both sides thick, large trees, whose foliage rustled in the wind. I looked around. In front of us was another meadow and now I could see a few younger foals with their mothers. Some of them looked friendly at us. Two foals were drinking with their mothers and two trotted a short distance across the pasture before stopping and looking at us with interest. 

Dan opened the paddock gate and led my mother inside. I quickly slipped through as well. It would be terrible if he were to separate us now. But apparently he didn't intend to do that and let me out into the meadow without any resistance. He took the halter from my mother and closed the gate behind him before disappearing back the way he came. 

My mother took a few steps and then lowered her head to graze. I let my eyes wander over the other seven foals. They were all Haflingers, too, which didn't surprise me now. Some also had blazes, thinner or wider, two had a star on their foreheads but narrower than mine and one foal had no markings at all. 

Curious, I stuck my head out a bit, but didn't dare go over to them. Not that my mother would suddenly be taken by Dan and I would not notice. Another foal took one and then two steps towards me. I neighed in greeting and stretched my neck even closer to the foal. It was a mare, the Haflinger foal without a mark on her forehead. Now she had approached me completely. She also stretched her head towards me and sniffed. I sniffed her, too. She smelled like the farm here, a bit like grass and like a horse. She turned her head away again for a moment and I got hungry again, took a step backwards and drank at my mom. 

Another mare about 7 years old stepped up to my mother. She was a dark Haflinger, also without markings on her face. She said, "Well Cindy, did you make it through successfully again?" My mother kicked a fly with her hoof and I had to stop drinking and raised my head. "All is well Desiree, Nakitor and I are doing brilliantly." My mother started to lower her nose into the fresh pasture grass again and the foal, probably Desirée's daughter took a few steps towards me again."Darice, give Nakitor some space," Desirée admonished her daughter. But then I also took a step toward Darice and snorted happily. 

Darice trotted a lap around me and my mother with her tail raised and threw her head up. I finally went after her and also broke into a fast trot for the first time. Darice ran criss-cross around us and I trotted after her. I wanted to catch up and ran even faster, but at that moment I tripped over my own legs and slipped. 

Startled, I found myself on the ground. After a moment, however, I was back on my feet and this time fell into a slightly slower trot. "Slow down Nakitor," my mother urged me good-humoredly. I snorted profusely and kept walking. 

All too soon in the evening, Dan came back to the paddock gate and got me, my mom, Desirée and Darice to take us back to the barn. We walked back the way we came and at the farm Dan handed Desirée and Darice to another boy, but walked us back to our stall and let us in. Hungry, I immediately started drinking from my mother again and only realized how exhausting the first day in the pasture with the other foals was, even though I had only met Darice.