[She shakes her head. No, she won't do anything foolish. And pretty has never been much of anything to draw her attention. Craven was a pretty horse, but Craven was also. Well. A craven. Reliability, that's what matters. And surefootedness. A high-strung and beautiful horse is still just high-strung at the end of a long day.]
And what, sleep in the straw? No.
[Not that it would bother her, really, but she's small and easily stepped on, let's face it.]
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And what, sleep in the straw? No.
[Not that it would bother her, really, but she's small and easily stepped on, let's face it.]
I just wanted to look around.