A gently summers breeze swept across the meadow, bending the grass as it struggled against it. The grass was mostly successful, always bending back, except for under the alien hovertank, where it didn't.
From the other side of the meadow, a horse walked slowly towards the tank. Laughter could be heard spreading across the field, coming from the grass menacing tank.
"Hahaha, now I have seen everything!"
"Hahaha, what will the humans do next. Use bones?"
Their jolly mood was not shared by the man sitting atop the horse, with a lance pointing at the sky. As their voices reaches him he frowns, and gets the horse into a trot. His palm sweaty as he's struggling to keep the lance upright.
"Oh look at him. Should we shoot him?"
"And spoil the fun? No way! I want to see what he's going to do with that stick."
As the horse approaches the middle of the meadow the trot turns into a gallop. The lance is brought down, a sudden jolt travels upwards through the hand, arm, and body as it falls into place. The butt is trapped between the elbow and his side, chest high and straight, the weight of the lance is carried by his body and he can breath easily. Feet firm in the stirrups, legs tightening on the saddle raises him above the motion of the horse. Steady, steady!
When the lances edge is only a few moments from the tank, snickering and laughter can again be heard. "Hahaha, hold me. I think I'm going to die!" He tighten his body and prepares for the impact.
The lance shatters against the tanks hardy shields, as the impact forces him back against the high rear of the saddle, but he does not fall. For a moment the shields flicker, NOW! He lets what's left of the lance fall to the ground as he reaches over to the back of the horse to grab the satchel charges.
"Well, it was fun while it lasted." The tank crew seems to have grown tired of this spectacle and aims their canon at him, to late. He throws the satchel charges on top of the tank and spurres the horse into a gallop. "Now he's even throwing bags at us, do you think they have bones in them? Hahah!" He dares not look back until an explosive shockwave washes over him, flattening the grass in front of him.
The horse stops as he looks back at the tank that is laying still and motionless on the ground. In much the same way as bricks do. A smile spreads across his face, "One down, many to go."
&nbps;
If you watch enough horse statues, you're going to think about horses. Also /r/AskHistorians is a treasure trove for descriptions.