Your parents gave you a job at their local pasture. You had experience from living on the farm all your life, so this was no problem. But your overseer, Ghost, was always on your back. Dictating and complaining your every action. Nothing was good enough.

Your throwing the horses some hay as Ghost rode in the barn on one of the new horses. He put the horse in a stall and walked over to you.

”You’re doin’ it wrong.” He rolled up his sleeves.

”Ya gonna have scratches the size of a bull.”