This story is set in the late-ish medieval times.
A large, heavily built black mare moved slowly forwards, shivering, around a small pen. The black sky offered no light, as the stars and moon were enveloped in thick clouds.
She walked restlessly around the fence line, puffs of air exploding from her nostrils into the chilly air, where they whitened like miniature clouds. Every so often she swung her head around to look behind her. Nothing out of the ordinary emerged from the shadows. Yet still something niggled at her mind endlessly, like she had forgotten something important. She could remember no special events, and so continued on her journey around the pen.
The coal black mare stopped only when she chanced upon the many tracks around the perimeter of the area, made by her hooves as she plodded along. Flattening her ears, she lowered her head and rested her far leg, breathing deep and even as sleep finally came.
"Get up now, horse." A voice growled, harshly intterupting her slumber.
She had only just enough time to jerk her eyes open when something whistled through the air. The sound was enough to frighten her, let alone the sudden line of sharp pain that throbbed across her rump. Sending out a croaky whinny, she darted forwards, the aching of her new wound embedded in her mind.
The mare couldn't see where she was going, and every so often she swerved in a different direction. She was just executing one of these turns when rope wound around her neck, then legs. The ropes tightened, pressuring against her flesh. The ones around her legs bound two hooves together somehow, forcing her to fall to her knees.
Things carried on in this manner for a while- tough men pulled her out through the gate of the pen, almost cutting off her air supply as they tugged.
At last, they tied her up to a post in a larger fenced off area and headed to the rails that formed the fence. She watched them, rage boiling in her veins. Then she caught sight of a tall man carrying what she thought to be a bridle in his beefy hand. He swaggered to the fence and exchanged a hoarse chuckle with the others before jumping into the corral and striding over.
He inspected her face and legs, lifting the sides of her mouth to see her teeth. The man then proceeded to push the bit into her mouth, the cold metal bit at her tongue, and fit the crownpiece over her ears. At that moment, a high, almost quavering voice called out; "What is her name, Sir Treydon??"
Sir Treydon glanced up. "Ehh...Raven??" He replied, walking around to her barrel. The horse, now obviously christened with the name Raven, flinched as his hands ran over her back. Then she forgot all else as the ropes were pulled away at the same time as a heavy weight landed on her spine.
Raven's instincts took over, and she let rip, legs flying as she bucked, reared and kicked- anything to get rid of the thing on her back. The crowd of people standing around the fence cheered and laughed, some clapping wildly.
All the chaos maddened her ever more. But as she tried with all her might, the weight never left.
The sky was a deep purple when they wandered away. Sweat coated her thin body, her joints ached and her mouth was cut with barbed wire. Now she knew what it was like to be "broken in."
Indeed, her spirit felt cracked in half.