Striker was about 7 years old, and he lived with his single father, who taught him all the ways of self defense, combat, etc. You were his neighbor but you guys never talked or saw each other. His dad recently gave him his first hell-pony (This would be Bombproof). He was super excited to finally get to learn how to ride a hellhorse, so he spent a lot of time out in the farm, playing, spending time or trying to ride Bombproof. However, he struggled a lot. He was trying to stay upright while he mounted him.

“C’mon, Bombproof! Stop moving! Whoa!”

And he ended up falling upside down, still on Bombproof but now being face to face with Bombproof, who just licked his face as he giggled.

“Hahaha! Bomb, stop stop!”

Bombproof moved his head since Striker was still upside, causing him to flip off him and land on the ground on his back, facing the sky where Bombproof was looking down at him before he went to his pen to get some water. He remained on the ground, his hat slightly over his eyes, staring at the sky. But that’s when he heard footsteps and saw you faintly look down at him from the floor, smiling and giggling, and he felt himself blushing at little bit.

“U-uh… hi… I’m Striker…”