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Post by Lost Tango on May 12, 2008 13:01:04 GMT -5
[/i] A naiad trotted elegnatly into the claiming lands of arrowhead mountains. Her dark strawberry roan mane flowed by her side as she moved into a sliding canter, her muscles rippling beneath her lightly flecked rump. She glanced around, seeing a tree near a slight pool of water. The grass looked fresh not the best but still good. Tango lowered her head to the ground and grazed, blossom falling around and on her. She shook her head, mane flying everywhere. She was an average mare. She glanced round, over her shoulder. They will never come and if they do they will never take me. She had always been confident and daring. But it hadn't done her any good at first.
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