The pony screamed and surged forward.

The ponies would have screamed their anger if she had lain with a man ... with, say, Whandall Placehold.

'The pony was screaming, too, poor little brute.'

Wounded ponies screamed and reared or fell with their riders, to die messily as the thousands galloped over them.

Again under that strain of projectile flight we clutched each other; the pony screamed in terror.

The pony screamed with an almost human note of despair and whirled.

The ponies screamed with terror, burst their ropes and galloped wildly off.

Chekov recoiled to fall full-length in the sand, startled out of his despair by the violence of the sound, and the ponies screamed into a chaos of flight.

The pony screamed again, plunging her head forward, eyes glaring, lips pulled far back from the huge discolored teeth, ears flat back against her neck.