𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔎𝔢𝔶𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔐𝔬𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫

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"If there's anything a person could give their life for it would be that because it's a lifetime experience, Mista Ezra!" A high-pitched feminine voice with the same intensity of a booming trumpet crashed into Ezra's ears. "First time I saw a horse give birth, my heart nearly rolled over and out of my darn chest!" As powerful was her volume, the sound of hooting laughter struck even harder into weary ears.

"Oh, really, Miss Pedigree?" His smile seemed taught and his interest formulated.

When he had asked for tour, he received the least of what he expected---or needed for that matter.

"Bet it on the hotcakes!" She nodded, picking up pace, swinging around a set of master keys hooked in her grasp. "The whole calf just comes out full bodied and all." She stimulated the motions of birth with her hands. "It's sorta like yer expecting it be like when a pregnant woman pushes out a baby. Normally, you see a bloodied head or a waddling little limb sticking out, but with those horses? My, oh my it's different. They come looking to be bout 2/3rd the size of the mother!"


She walked so swiftly and quickly even Ezra's long strides couldn't match the woman's light speed.

"It's quite a rocker seeing it all go down, and---." She paused. "---Oh, what was I talking about before?" She waited for no reply. "Oh, the kitchen!"



With every tap of her quick steps, silver keys clashed and chattered like laughing bells.

"Yew see here? This ere?" she said, words coming out in quick succession. "This the entrance to the kitchen quarters. Always go through the servant's passageway." She barely stopped for longer than a second before she whisked him out of the room. "Now, come along."

"Sure." He smiled, as stubby hands dragged him onwards, the flash of silver keys swaying in her free hand.


The silver keys were as bright as pure metal mercury. They leaped and spun, doing somersaults in her hand.

"Now, ye come down this hall and yew'll see there'll be a shortcut to pantries." She pointed briefly at a brightly lit hall. "And oh, yew know, there's a joke that runs like water ere. See, the joke is," she said, laughing. "Why is a dog like a tree? It's because they both lose their bark once they're dead!" She broke into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

"Ah, funny?" He furrowed his eyebrows.

"Isn't it?" She burst into laughter once more.

Click! Clack!

Blades of glowing white polished silver swayed onwards, dancing with her movements.

His eyes briefly swept along the silver and then to the long hall she was laughing at.

"But how does the joke relate to the hallway?" he asked, slanting his head.

"It doesn't, but twas it not was funny? Now, come along." She snatched him by the arm, hauling him with her.


She methodically fiddled with the numerous rows of keys on the key ring.

"Now, this is the Family quarter." She wagged the silver around and pointed at the entrance. "No one really comes in there except for the Young Miss. She's got good memories with that aunt of hers in there, so careful not to touch or move anything. She's particulate about the structure of this little setting. And y'know, when I think of them two in there smiling daisies, it brings me right down memory road." She touched her cheek. "Like melting butter on a Sunday morning. What a tragic waste."

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