The humans, it seemed, had dropped the attempt at breaking Sham in to the bridle today and had left him alone in the pasture. Snorting, the mustang cross shook his long mane and stomped a forehoof, peering up at the darkening sky that began to blanket the daytime brightness, the sunset casting long shadows. Letting out a sigh, Sham flicked his tail at his smokey grulla haunches and lowered his head to lazily nip at the swaying grass, mind trailing.