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Duck1, I gotta say, I am really pleased to see you writing longer posts; you are a good writer.
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The sun seemingly blared itself into view as it shone it's harsh rays on the face of Cocoa, who lay, beaten and bruised, at the corner of the dank little stall. She opened her heavy eyelids and wearily lifted her head, yawning and stretching her forelegs with a quiet snap, with which she winced and gritted her teeth. She slowly and gingerly pawed her feet along the dusty ground and shuffled clumsily to her hooves. Her muscles ached and her neck felt like the rope was still around it, a ring of chafed skin marking where it was. She smiled wearily at Stephani; the precious little filly was still asleep.

She peered her head over the stable's gnarled, chipping door and looked around the facility, the first groggy thought on her mind was of breakfast and she wondered where it was.
 
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Duck1, I gotta say, I am really pleased to see you writing longer posts; you are a good writer.
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Meh.
 
Yang managed to get everyone to cross the road, which Aiden was determined to sit in the middle of for unknown reason. After that, they got stuck, but eventually Macon spotted a few threads of Sienna's hair at the edge of a place.
"He's gotta be in there somewhere," Yang muttered when the Belgian returned with the report. She let her companions graze as she looked over the pens and buildings, wondering where Blaze might be.
 
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Appearing behind them was a tall, gray figure, his banded hooves pounding the ground in a thunderous roar as his ivory mane of imppressive length rippled like a flag behind him, his silver rosettes radiant under the sun with their stunningly stark contrast against his dark, ash-gray pelt enhanced.

"I can help," he said calmly and steadily, his gray eyes shifting their intent gaze from horse to horse, "Do we have a plan?"
 
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Appearing behind them was a tall, gray figure, his banded hooves pounding the ground in a thunderous roar as his ivory mane of imppressive length rippled like a flag behind him, his silver rosettes radiant under the sun with their stunningly stark contrast against his dark, ash-gray pelt enhanced.

"I can help," he said calmly, steadily, his gray eyes dancing from horse to horse, "Do we have a plan?"

"We were thinking that Macon," Yang said, nodding to the chestnut stallion, "could distract 'em, because I saw some darts flying yesterday and he could probably withstand the effects of them for quite a while, since he's kind of huge. Then me and Aiden could unlatch or break down whatever obstacles there were. Who are you, anyways?" she asked.
We haven't talked about any of this! Macon thought, glancing at Aiden. The colt shrugged.
 
It was a late morning meeting of the Town Council. They sat, looking very VIPish in their casual business suits and seated in their fancy tables with brass nameplates.
I shan't describe the entire meeting to you, but in the end it came to this: "The land on which several of the few remaining wild horse herds belonging to the state of [insert whatever name here] shall become a reservation. You must have an accepted license issued by the state to enter this land. Trespassing results in a $250 fine. Removing, injuring, or disturbing these horses and/or herds shall result in a $1,200 fine. Repeated violation of these rules will earn a term in prison as ruled by the judge."
"Tranquilizer darts may only be used by animal control officers. They may not be sold, given, or otherwise made belonging to the citizens under any circumstances."
 
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