tabby ❀

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I protected my horse. My horse who danced, casting her net in the house of Zeca Chapéu Grande, the healer. She didn’t wear shoes, for her feet were my roots connecting me to the earth. Her arms were my fins, propelling me through the water. I’ve ridden my horse for so many years, I’ve lost count. But now, without a body to possess, I wander the land.
Crooked Plow
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