Young Black Stallion

Is there trouble, kadir?

It's mansoor. He's always trouble.

But we paid his bribe. We'll be all right.

I hope.

Neera!

I was just looking.

I'm not tired, honest.

We'll stop in the foothills.

It's safer there.

Not much longer.

I was dreaming about home.

It's so beautiful, like a palace.

Big, grassy fields for my grandpa's horses.

They're the best in the whole valley.

They win every race.

Well, almost every race.

Oh, he must be a very important man --

your grandfather.

To breed horses that never lose.

To live like a king in a palace.

I know he didn't want to send me away.

But he thought it'd be safer until after the war.

Life has a way of shifting, like blowing sand.

What -- what is it?

Kadir, what's wrong?

...Mansoor.

Mansoor.

Save yourself, neera.

Go west, find the mountains.

Follow them home.

Don't stop! Don't look back!

Go now! Go!

What about you?

Go! Go!

Kadir! Hah! Hah!

Good boy.

Good boy.

Wait!

Come back!

Come back.

Hey!

Where are you going?!

Wait for me!

Wait!

I'll get you a drink.

Black!

Black!

Good boy.

We'll find a way home.

You and me. Together.

We just have to keep going.

We're close. I think.

I hope.

We're home.

It's there. See?

Come on.

Ho, boy! Easy now!

No! Wait! Come back!

Don't leave me!

Come back.

Black?

Hello?

Hello!

Hah!

Adan?

Neera? Is that you?

We thought you were dead.

No, it's really me in person.

See?

What were you going to do, chase me away?

I didn't even know it was you.

We heard the caravan was attacked.

I didn't expect to ever see you again.

Where is everyone?

They ran away.

Everyone?

Not ben ishak or me.

Is he all right?

Sometimes, I hear him crying.

Go away!

Leave me alone! Can't you hear?!

Go!

But... It's me, grandpa.

Neera?

Oh! Grandpa!

Oh, neera.

If he hadn't helped me, I would have given up.

I just wouldn't have gotten here.

Sometimes in the desert, the devil plays tricks.

Our minds get all twisted, and we imagine things.

No, he's real! He is!

He's already so strong and fast.

We have to find him.

Neera...

This black colt is just a trick,

a devil dream.

He doesn't exist.

Only here.

And here.

Let him go.

Hyah! Hyah!

Hyah!

Hyah! Hyah!

That horse -- the one in front --

isn't that kazeer?

Uh-huh.

Kazeer doesn't belong to us anymore.

None of them do.

They're scattered.

Rahmon took kazeer.

He took most of the mares.

They were like family.

There was no other way.

When the soldiers came

with their tanks and their bombs,

they destroyed our fields.

Our crops burned to the ground.

There was nothing left. Nothing.

I could not afford to feed them anymore.

I had to sell.

Even jinah?

The thought of anyone else owning jinah --

that cut too deep, like a jagged knife.

So I sent her back to the desert,

where she belonged.

Some people thought I was foolish,

but I knew it was right.

We are not breeders anymore.

So be it.

At least we have a roof overhead.

That's luckier than most.

We kept abba.

Oh!

Abba!

You remember it?

Maybe.

Assalamu alaikum, ishak.

Need help?

We will manage.

Kazeer looks good, don't you think?

You should have been at the races.

He won, of course.

Mansoor was too busy thieving his way through the desert to bring radan.

So it was hardly a challenge. Nothing even came close.

Still, I appreciate my prizes.

You may recognize some.

He won those?!

Yeah. It's the new rules.

Each tribe stakes their best mare.

The winner gets them all.

You are a lucky man, rahmon, to have won such fine horses.

Your reputation grows along with your herd.

I hear mansoor caught your silver mare, jinah.

They say he couldn't catch the black foal that ran beside her.

Perhaps it stumbled into the secret valley.

You should have kept her.

You would have had a chance.

Instead you have what?

That one?

Do the hopes of the great ben ishak

rest with your plough horse?

Stop being a hermit, old man.

Come to next year's races.

See kazeer win again for the tribe of rahmon.

See you there, huh?

Assalamu.

Grandpa...