"Is it poison?" she asked. ’ ‘Who’s bleeding to death?’ demanded Trodger. . Mr. Sheppard, distractedly. She stabbed him with her canines. Most of the horses were dead, all but three stallions and two mares left among what was once a thriving stable. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. Why, honestly enouch.
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