"Horses were not meant for war!" little Agrio complained. Agrio was the sounding out of Αγριο, which means wild one in greek.
"Not all. But Thoroughbreds were bred for it." Again DJ, his best friend, stresses to not argue with Duke, the chief foal trainer. Agrio was not born in the war station like DJ and the other foals. He'd seen his mom die and had only been with his father for a few months after his mom's death. The last memory Agrio had of his mother was when she told him the meaning of his name. He still didn't understand why she named him that but it hardly mattered to him now.
And then there's Duke, who claimed to know Agrio's father but Agrio still had a hard time getting along with him.
"Dude he killed my mom!".
"And I'm hardly a Thoroughbred"
DJ paws anxiously at the bright green grass below them.
An awkward silence befalls around the two.
Duke's rider calls out "That's all for today. Class dismissed!"
Duke looks at the mountain range behind them before heading back to the stables with the rest of the horses and foals.
"No, he's no Thoroughbred at all."