Thieves of Wind

Well aren't you a sight to see, defending your wimp of a rider. You rear up off the ground and Nicholas lets out a manly squeal as he falls off your back and onto the ground. You strike the air with your hooves and a lucky blow connects with the skull of the shorter bandit. He hardly has the time to gasp before he falls, effectively distracting the larger and startlingly harrier of the two bandits. This bush of a man readies his sword with a determined grunt. It was kind of funny to look at really, a horse fighting a peculiarly hairy man and a boy laying on the ground playing possum, and rather badly at that, you can totally see him breathing. You had come down from your rear at this point and turned towards Nicholas away from the drawn blade and man with more hair than even you. You make a show out of pushing your weight forward and kicking out, knocking the wind from the bandit turning back towards him in enough time to see that fuzzy bowling pin tumble. Spare, not bad. Nicholas gets up and pats you on the neck mumbling about how good of a horse you are. You already know that. He's limping pretty bad but you assume he would rather have twisted his ankle than died. Something began to glow in the pouch of the hairy bandit.