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With a sigh, she tried again, but though her stomach grumbled painfully against her empty ribs, she couldn't take another sip. "I'm sorry, mommy," she shook her head in confusion. "It's just . . . milk doesn't taste good anymore."
Layla frowned, then sighed. "Chew some grass with your teeth, then swallow. If you feel something sharp on your muzzle, come tell me and I'll help you. You still have to follow me, okay?" She said sternly.
"Oh, that's what that sound is," Gemma said excitedly. She'd heard a ripping sound coming from the ground where Layla would walk, and now she realized exactly what it was. Cautiously, she bent her head towards her hooves until she felt her muzzle brush something soft that tickled her muzzle. Tentatively, she took a bite.