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>The rusty mare lets midnight spheres waver over the >land, drifting, lost, thoughts echoing through her >mind. Tender rose nares quiver in intrige, chizeled >listeners darting. Her frame is alluring, dangerous, >strongly femme. She canters silently back to the >Joining Cove, leaving only cresents in the sand as >evidence of any past presence, though soon the wind >tickles them away, and a mysteriuos scent is left to >tent the breeze... §•

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