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It never fails.........
 
The Flaxen Chestnut mare watching FireHerd was still on the hill above their Main Grounds, watching them. She surveyed with the eye of an eagle. It was for this reason that her name was Browneagle. She saw a mare dying while foaling; a pair of horses mating while an envious stallion lurked in ambush behind them; two stallions dueling; four half-grown colts killing each other. The mare grinned. Fireherd was killing each other: they would be desperate for a leader and a working system. That system: Communism. Or, since Browneagle couldn't have known what Communism was, something very similar.
 
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A tiny, pretty white mare stood on the edge of the clearing, her tail blowing behind her. She walked causiously past the colts, shying away from their hooves
 
Similar to Fireherd, Skyherd was also being watched - but not by a horse. A lone dog, a spaniel, stood on a slight hill in the woods where he had a clear view of the herd. He waited patiently for the right moment...
 
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