I placed my hands on the mares withers as I leapt up onto her back. Landing neatly we took of at a gallop worthy of a race-horse, I crouched low over her neck as I laced my fingers through her coarse mane, feeling the wind against my face, whipping my hair around. Here I was born to be. Here I am free.
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Arabella
Teen FictionI placed my hands on the mares withers as I leapt up onto her back. Landing neatly we took of at a gallop worthy of a race-horse, I crouched low over her neck as I laced my fingers through her coarse mane, feeling the wind against my face, whipping...