Horse Happy Read online




  Begin Reading

  Table of Contents

  About the Author and Illustrator

  Copyright Page

  Thank you for buying this

  Feiwel and Friends ebook.

  To receive special offers, bonus content,

  and info on new releases and other great reads,

  sign up for our newsletters.

  Or visit us online at

  us.macmillan.com/newslettersignup

  For email updates on Sibley Miller, click here.

  For email updates on Tara Larsen Chang, click here.

  The author and publisher have provided this e-book to you for your personal use only. You may not make this e-book publicly available in any way. Copyright infringement is against the law. If you believe the copy of this e-book you are reading infringes on the author’s copyright, please notify the publisher at: us.macmillanusa.com/piracy.

  For Bunny—Sibley Miller

  For Lizzie, princess extraordinaire!

  —Tara Larsen Chang

  For Savannah, my patient Percheron, who has taught me what it means to have a horse as a friend

  —Jo Gershman

  Meet the Wind Dancers

  One day, a lonely little girl named Leanna blows on a doozy of a dandelion. To her delight and surprise, four tiny horses spring from the puff of the dandelion seeds!

  Four tiny horses with shiny manes and shimmery wings. Four magical horses who can fly!

  Dancing on the wind, surrounded by magic halos, they are the Wind Dancers.

  The leader of the quartet is Kona. She has a violet-black coat and a vivid purple mane, and she flies inside a halo of magical flowers.

  Brisa is as pretty as a tropical sunset with her coral-pink color and blond mane and tail. Magical jewels make up Brisa’s halo, and she likes to admire her gems (and herself) every time she looks in a mirror.

  Sumatra is silvery blue with sea-green wings. Much like the ocean, she can shift from calm to stormy in a hurry! Her magical halo is made up of ribbons, which flutter and dance as she flies.

  The fourth Wind Dancer is—surprise!—a colt. His name is Sirocco. He’s a fiery gold, and he likes to go-go-go. Everywhere he goes, his magical halo of butterflies goes, too.

  Every day, Leanna wishes she’ll see the magical little horses again. (She’s sure they’re nearby, but she doesn’t know they’re invisible to people.) And, the Wind Dancers get ready for their next adventure.

  CHAPTER 1

  Home, Apple-Sweet Home

  The Wind Dancers couldn’t believe it—their first magical day on earth was coming to a close. And they had been busy.

  They’d explored the meadows, forests, and farms of their new world.

  They’d played with their magic—and they’d discovered what it’s like to have too much magic.

  And they’d made a beautiful little necklace for Leanna, the girl who brought them to life by blowing on a dandelion—and that gift had made Leanna happy.

  Now the four horses were flying into the darkening sky, enjoying their first sunset, and feeling their wings get heavy.

  “I can’t wait to get to bed,” Brisa said, her pretty brown eyes looking sleepy.

  “Me, too,” Sumatra added. She stretched her front hooves and yawned a big yawn.

  “Some shut-eye sounds awesome,” Sirocco agreed. “There’s just one problem: We have no beds!”

  This stopped Brisa in mid-flight.

  “Oh, no! I never thought about that!” she cried. “We don’t have a home!”

  Kona, of course, was quick to comfort everyone.

  “There are plenty of cozy places we can stay,” she assured her friends. “We can go back to Leanna’s farmhouse and sleep on the porch. Or we can nest in the barn. Or we can make beds out of soft leaves in the garden. We’ll be fine for tonight.”

  “Okay,” Sirocco said. “But what about eating something first? I’m starved!”

  Brisa suddenly clutched her empty belly with her pale hooves. Sumatra’s stomach also rumbled, and Kona licked her dry lips.

  “I guess we’re all hungry,” Kona said. “And parched. I didn’t even realize it.”

  “Hey!” Sirocco chimed in. “I just remembered—I know where we can both eat and drink!” He darted toward a large, leafy apple tree in the middle of the meadow.

  “C’mon,” he called over his shoulder. “These are the juiciest apples in the meadow. I had them for lunch!”

  Kona, Brisa, and Sumatra dashed after Sirocco. By the time they arrived at the tree, Sirocco had already plucked a big red apple. He took a wet, noisy bite.

  “Whee!” Brisa cried, diving down to a low branch and selecting a pinkish apple. “This one’s as pretty as I am!”

  “My turn!” Kona said. She alighted on a branch nearby and picked a rosy apple.

  “Wait for me!” Sumatra yelled. She plunged into the tree’s tangled branches in search of her own perfect piece of fruit.

  Thunk!

  Chitter, chitter, squeak!

  Sumatra leaped back out of the apple tree, shaking her head woozily.

  “I’ve crashed into something!” she neighed to her friends. “Something fat and furry!”

  A moment later, a squirrel poked his offended furry face through the branches.

  “Watch where you’re flying, birdie, and who you’re calling fat!” he said with a scowl. Then he took a closer look at Sumatra’s sea-green mane and her fluttering wings. “Hey, wait a minute! You’re not a bird. You’re one of those magical flying horses!”

  “You know about us?” Sumatra gasped.

  “Definitely!” the squirrel said. “Word travels fast in the woods. The bees are always buzzin’ with news, and the butterflies gossip at every flower.”

  The squirrel wrinkled his nose into a jowly smile. “I’m Gray. Anything you want to know about life on the meadow—I’m your squirrel.”

  “Nice to meet you, Gray,” Kona said politely.

  “So, how do you like them apples?” Gray asked the Wind Dancers. “Tasty, eh?”

  “Delish!” Sirocco sighed. “I wish I could eat apples every day.”

  “Actually,” Gray said, “that could be arranged.”

  He motioned to the Wind Dancers to follow him.

  Giving each other curious looks, the tiny horses trotted along behind the squirrel. They crawled up one tree branch and down another. At last, they arrived at a hidden hole in the tree’s upper trunk. Gray squirmed through the opening, and the horses followed.

  Finally, they all stopped—and the Wind Dancers gasped!

  They were standing with Gray inside a large empty room. The space had been neatly carved out of the tree’s trunk. The tooth-marked walls were lined with windows, which were covered by tree-bark shutters. Opposite the “front door” was another hole. This one was in the floor.

  “That’s the way to the floor below,” Gray said, pointing at the hole. “There are four floors in all here.”

  “This is where you live?” Brisa asked, daintily kicking at an acorn shell on the floor.

  “This is where I used to live,” Gray said. “I’ve just finished hollowing out a new place in an oak tree nearby.” He pointed at his sharp front teeth.

  “Wow,” Kona said. “That’s impressive, being able to carve out a home for yourself with your teeth.”

  “Aw, it’s no biggie,” the squirrel said. “Anyway, if you want it, you can have it. Invite me over for apple pie every now and then, and we’ll call it a deal.”

  “Really?” Brisa asked incredulously.

  “Sure!” Gray said.

  “All this tree house needs is a very good scrubbing,” Kona added, nosing open one of the shutters and sweeping away some dust with her mane.

  “We’ll take it!” S
irocco yelled. He trotted over to the squirrel and gave him a friendly slap on the back with his hoof. “Thanks, Gray!”

  “Enjoy,” the squirrel said, heading for the door. “Stop by my new pad some time. I make a mean Acorn Crunch Cake.”

  After Gray left, Sirocco galloped through the tree house, exploring the other floors.

  “It’s huge!” he reported back to the fillies. “There’s enough room on the bottom two floors for each of us to have our own stall. And we can eat in the floor above that. Gray made a rainwater spout that comes right through the wall. We can put a water trough underneath it. And this top floor can be our living room. We can pull in some apple bark and leaves and dandelion fluff to rest on.”

  “Bark?” Brisa asked quietly. “Leaves?”

  “Yeah!” Sirocco said. “Neat, huh?”

  “Um, I guess so,” Brisa said even more quietly. “There’s just one thing…”

  “Well?” Sirocco demanded.

  “It’s just that this place is kind of … ugly!” Brisa cried.

  She pointed at the bare, splintery floors and the tooth-scraped walls. “I just don’t know if I can live in a tree. It’s so dusty and brown. There’s no beauty. No color. No … mirrors!”

  Kona smiled.

  “I think we can do something about that,” she said. “Let’s not forget—we do have our magic.”

  With that, Kona carefully tapped the floor next to the front door. Instantly, a bunch of pretty flowers appeared on the bare wood!

  “This is called a ‘throw rug,’” she explained to her friends. “I saw some in the yellow farmhouse where Leanna lives. It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

  Next, Sumatra flew to the living room’s windows, alighting at each one for an instant. When she was done, the windows were framed with her beautiful ribbons.

  “Oh!” Brisa cried in delight. “Those are lovely touches! Now me!”

  She darted to the wall and began tapping jewels out of her magic halo. Soon, the wall was adorned with sparkling gems, including an extra-large clear jewel that was so shiny, Brisa could see her reflection in it.

  “A mirror!” she sighed with a grin. After admiring herself for a moment, Brisa turned to her friends.

  “Home, sweet home!” she said happily. “C’mon! Let’s decorate the rest of the place.”

  In the kitchen, Sirocco made a table out of bark. Kona made some more flowery throw rugs, and Sumatra made some more ribbon-y window curtains.

  Brisa, meanwhile, added another mirror to the wall.

  Down in the horses’ stalls, they wove sleeping blankets out of Sumatra’s ribbons and fashioned dandelion fluff into pillows. Kona made flower wreaths for each stall door and Brisa made … more mirrors! She whipped up one for each Wind Dancer, saving the biggest and shiniest for her own pink stall.

  When the Wind Dancers went to sleep that night, their bellies full of apples and their backs warm beneath their ribbon-y blankets, nobody was happier with their cozy new home than Brisa.

  * * *

  Over the next few days, the Wind Dancers explored their world some more. They swam in the babbling creek that ran through the woods, and they ate picnics of apples.

  They made friends with bees, chipmunks, and robins, sharing apples with them.

  They rested in the highest branches of their apple tree at night, counting the stars and snacking on—what else?—more apples.

  It was a very apple-y few days.

  Which is why, as the Wind Dancers sat in the kitchen of their tree house a few mornings later, Brisa pushed her breakfast feed bucket away.

  “What’s wrong?” Kona asked. “You don’t like my homemade applesauce? Maybe you should try an apple-spice muffin instead.”

  “The applesauce is delicious,” Brisa said kindly. “It’s just that … well, if I eat one more apple, or even look at another apple, I think I’m going to turn into an apple!”

  “Brisa has a point,” Sumatra said. “Some variety would be nice.”

  “I have an idea!” Kona replied. “Do you remember those blackberry bushes we saw the other day?”

  “The ones on the other side of the woods?” Brisa asked. She had trotted over to the mirror she’d made on the wall and was now brushing her blond mane with a tiny currycomb. “The bushes with all the pretty red berries?”

  “The berries were red because they weren’t ripe yet,” Kona explained. “But it’s been a few warm, sunny days since then. Which means…”

  “Black blackberries!” Sirocco yelled. “I bet those babies are really ripe and ready for picking now.”

  “Sounds like a perfect adventure for today,” Sumatra added. “A scrumptious blackberry picnic!”

  “We could bring blackberries home, too,” Brisa suggested. “To make pies!”

  “And jam!” Sirocco yelled.

  “And muffins,” Kona said with twinkling eyes. “Maybe we’ll make extra for our animal friends, too.”

  “Oh, they’ll be happy!” Brisa cried. “Let’s get ready.” She turned back to the mirror and held a couple of her jewels up to her blond mane.

  “Do you think pink jewels will clash with the blackberries?” she asked her friends. “Should I go with blue?”

  Sirocco snorted.

  “This is your idea of getting ready, Brisa?” he sputtered. “We’re going on a blackberry-picking trip, not to a beauty pageant!”

  “You don’t get it!” Brisa protested. “If today’s the first day the berries are ripe, the blackberry patch will be teeming with birds and squirrels and raccoons and deer. It’s going to be a scene. I have to look my best!”

  Sirocco’s mouth dropped open. Sumatra stifled a giggle, while Kona hid her smile by carrying the feed buckets to the water trough.

  “If the berry patch is going to be that busy,” Kona said, “I think we should head over there soon.”

  “Yeah!” Sirocco agreed, jumping up. “I’m already hungry for lunch!”

  “Sirocco!” Sumatra whinnied. “You just took your last bite of breakfast!”

  “You’re right,” Sirocco said with a nod. “It’s too early to think about lunch. I’ll just have a quick snack.”

  He nipped another apple muffin from the table.

  “Si-ro-cco!” Sumatra giggled.

  But before Sirocco could reply, he was cut off—by a high-pitched scream!

  CHAPTER 2

  A Sisterly Spat

  “Aaaaah! Take it back, Sara!”

  The loud, angry voice came through the Wind Dancers’ kitchen window. Curious, the horses tiptoed over and looked out to see what was going on.

  Far below, they saw their friend Leanna. She was staring hard at another little girl—and looking mad!

  The smaller girl had soft blond curls and brown eyes, just like Leanna.

  And just like Leanna, the littler girl was squinting angrily. Her arms were crossed over her chest. And her mouth was squinched into a knot.

  “They look just alike!” Sumatra said to the others. “I bet Sara is Leanna’s little sister.”

  “I won’t take it back,” little-sister Sara was saying. “I said you were a big tattletale, and I meant it!”

  “Am not!” said Leanna.

  “Are too!” Sara said.

  “Am not!” Leanna yelled.

  “Ahh!” Sara screamed in frustration and stomped her tiny sneakered foot. “Stop saying ‘am not,’ when you know you are, too!”

  “It’s not tattling to tell Mom that you ate the entire bowl of cookie dough,” Leanna said. “It was self-defense. She thought I ate it!”

  “But you were eating blackberry jelly straight out of the jar last week,” Sara said poutily. “And I didn’t tattle on you, did I?”

  “Only because Mom caught me,” Leanna said, her cheeks pink with embarrassment. “So, you didn’t get a chance. But you would have told on me if you could have.”

  “No, I wouldn’t have!” Sara spat back.

  “Oh, I can’t listen to any more!” Brisa said to her frie
nds, backing away from the window.

  “I know,” Sirocco agreed. “All that talk of cookie dough and jelly is making my mouth water!”

  “I don’t mean that!” Brisa said. “I mean the fighting. It’s awful!”

  “I wish we could help them,” Kona said, shaking her head. “But being invisible to people, I don’t know what we can do!”

  So Kona went back to the trough to run rainwater over the sticky feed buckets.

  Sirocco used his golden tail to sweep breakfast crumbs off the floor.

  Sumatra began to weave a berry basket out of her magic ribbons.

  And Brisa?

  She went back to combing her mane.

  As she watched her mane get smoother and shinier with every stroke, she nickered thoughtfully.

  “We would never fight like Leanna and Sara,” she mused to her friends. “We’re too happy for all that.”

  “Well,” Kona said while she soaped up the feed buckets, “maybe Leanna and Sara aren’t lucky enough to be as happy as we are.”

  “Still, fighting is mean,” Sumatra said as she admired her brand-new ribbon-y berry basket.

  “Fighting is ugly, too,” Brisa declared. She turned back to the mirror and used her magic to pop a pink jewel onto her mane.

  “Now that’s pretty,” she said, giving her mane a pat.

  As Brisa admired her handiwork in the mirror, Leanna and Sara’s fight drifted from her mind.

  “Now that I think about it,” Brisa said to herself, “I wonder if a silver jewel might make my eyes look more sparkly.”

  She combed the pink gem out of her mane and tried the silver.

  “Ooh! Lovely!” Brisa breathed. “But what about blue?”

  Comb, comb, comb …

  Soon, the kitchen floor was littered with discarded jewels. But everyone was too busy to notice, until—

  “Ow!”

  Sirocco grunted in pain. He’d stepped on something hard and sharp. He peered beneath his throbbing hoof and saw on the floor—a pointy pink jewel!