The horses snorted loudly and swung to one side of the road, for a dark figure stood in front of them.

Then the horse swung about and thundered off, and the whole herd took up the charge in his wake.

The horse swung its head, snapping at the retreating boy who stumbled and fell on the cobbles.

The girl passed, her horse swinging along in an easy, running walk- the gait that eats up the miles.

Once a horse is down, swing the sword at its rider's face or anywhere else not protected by chain mail.

The horse swung around the final rising curve.

The horses swung their heads towards each other, taking courage from each other's presence.

The weaving horse not only swings its head and neck, but also the front end of its body from side to side.

The horses swung toward his failing fire, entered the dim light, and stopped.

A horse swung onto the street and the rider pulled up.