πΌπππππππππ πππ ππππππ ππππ ππππ ππππ π πππππ ππππππππ πππππ . πππππ ππππ ππππππ πππ πππππππ πππππ ππ πππ πππ ππππππ πππ πππ ππππ'π πππππ , πππππ ππππππ πππππππ ππππ ππ πππππππ πππππ πππ πππππ , ππ πππ ππππ . the stallion finds himself fascinated by the cat she has cradled in her arms --- whispering a soft thing from his pinked muzzle with lashes tangling amid his wisped forelock when he spies it , white and long and made golden in the sun licked , snowy glade .
and there was turstin not far behind where the stallion frolicked , damp with effort , and disheveled by the land they together had put between their game of chase and the noch ---- where the lord found himself wanting . quicklight , however , seemed less so . " ah ! " he called , eager to take advantage of the distraction . " i see you have found his friend . "
@wornkindness // pony starter