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The archangels and morning doves croon gently to the enveloping dawn; the tears of their unfathomable joy lay like a wet kiss upon the grassy hills. The sun - in all her magnificent glory - falls to the ground to swathe the quietly grazing horses in a soft embrace. The crickets and doves hum softly to bade away the encroaching fingers of dusk as the shadows ease closer to the lone sun. A single stallion stands alone amidst this battle of nature. He tosses his head back, his fleet of ebony hair caressing the cool zephyrs in a dance not unlike Russian gypsies. His delicately sculpted face slashes through the sky as a piercing whinny is wretched from his lungs in a last act of defiance.
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