And if I fell off the horse it would surely be my end. I’d, at the very least, break every last bone in my body and then you’d have to kill me out of pity and bury me in the middle of this orange poppy field. Although it is a beautiful and poetic place to be laid to rest, I’m too young to die. And you’d never forgive yourself for it, and I can’t have that on my conscience even in the afterlife.”
