It had a clean smell of hay and horse, and two long rows of stalls ran back into shadows barred with light from the vents above. What happened? I hurt it. The radiance filling her, shining around her, hurt her own eyes. Think of it, Thom.
The wind swirled up fiercely, chilling his sweat like droplets of ice, making the trumpets sound like sly laughter; he thought he could smell an opened grave, strong in the air. It struck, headfirst, with a loud crack, and slid down the wall to lie with its neck twisted at an impossible angle. It would not be the first time the Prince of Andor had no title before he wed. Saving yourself and your Lady, my Lord.
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