Mostly for us it was darkness, heavy with the stink of fear. We were all deathly silent, listening, as though we had a choice, to the horrible screams that echoed from the world outside of our prison. Sometimes they went on for long, long minutes; others for only a few seconds, but all of them ended abruptly and always right at their peak. That was our signal to move to the center, to tense our bodies, hold our breaths, and wait for the lid of our prison to be lifted to reveal that long, grinning muzzle high above. Thick furry fingers would thrust themselves among us while we writhed and thrashed, fighting to save ourselves from their clutches. It was each for himself then. There was no cooperation as the massive digits groped about among us, eventually capturing one or two or three and hoisting them, howling, up and out of sight. Then the lid would close, and the awful screams would start anew.

I only caught a brief glimpse of the monster before he caught me. He was right on the brink of stallionhood, with a massive chest and shoulders that still bore the leanness of youth. Big, too, and how I did not hear him coming is a mystery. I did not get more than three steps away before his hand closed around me and I was dumped into a box with what must have been more than a hundred others.

Less than half of that were left...