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Post by Cheyenne on Feb 4, 2007 13:26:16 GMT -5
Stall #5
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Faye Brasseaux
New Member
I must be running out of time. What am I doing on this Louisiana Saturday night?
Posts: 33
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Post by Faye Brasseaux on Feb 4, 2007 15:33:17 GMT -5
The yearling rested lazily in the corner of the stall, thinking of what had happened in the recent months. Faye had been so upset, and one day she had loaded her into the trailer. She wasn't sure she liked it up here. She hadn't made any friends yet, and the weather was not anything like home. She was used to constant warmth, to extreme humidity. Things even looked different outside. The trees were different, the grass different. The land was no longer flat, but curved up and down like waves on the gulf. And where was her bayou? That had been her favorite place to swim. Would she ever get to see her home again? Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her stall door sliding open. There stood Faye, halter in hand. "Come on, cher, let's go see about this place." She stepped closer to the girl, resting her head against her chest. Faye smiled, stroking her mane gently. "It's ok, little one. Have I ever steered you wrong before?" With that, she slipped the dark oil halter over her head, and clucked gently. Jazz followed obediently, bright eyes searching the place as she was lead down the isle.
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Post by Cheyenne on Feb 4, 2007 23:08:24 GMT -5
"Hello." I stepped out of lily's stall, sliding the door shut. "How is she?" I asked as I patted the dust out of my jeans.
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Faye Brasseaux
New Member
I must be running out of time. What am I doing on this Louisiana Saturday night?
Posts: 33
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Post by Faye Brasseaux on Feb 6, 2007 17:31:07 GMT -5
Faye looked up from her thoughts as she heard Cheyenne's voice. She looked over, a proud smile on her face. "She's good. A little nervous, but good." She gave the filly an affectionate pat. She peered into the stall which Cheyenne had just exited. "Is that one yours?"
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Faye Brasseaux
New Member
I must be running out of time. What am I doing on this Louisiana Saturday night?
Posts: 33
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Post by Faye Brasseaux on Feb 14, 2007 22:30:54 GMT -5
Jazz let out a shrill cry, pushing as hard as she could against the stall door, leaning over, searching for her family. The girl had taken her mother out without even saying goodbye. Normally it wouldn't have been a problem, but this place was new and scary. She cried out again, pacing in her stall. Finally she gave up and started kicking against the door, striking with all the strength. The latch on the door eventually succumbed to the angry filly, letting the door swing open in a fury. The flicka spun around, sprinting out, hoofsteps echoing on the concrete isleway. ...
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