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Chapter 14 - Fourteen: Scribbles
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Chapter 16 - Sixteen: Intoxicated
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... didn’t smell like the damp, depressing stone. Instead, they smelled of fresh cedar, expensive hay, and of course, horses.
Casimir led me to the far end, where the stall is larger than my first walk-in closet back home. Inside was a beast that looked less like a horse and more like pegasus without wings. He was a pure, blinding white British Thoroughbred. Eyes gleaming with violence to anyone who dared touch him.
"This is Snow," Casimir said, beaming with adoration and pride as h ...
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