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Post by J.D. Bennet on Oct 22, 2007 16:12:03 GMT -5
The Stallion cantered on to the land. His bugle was heard by none. Come forth now if you lead this land, if not than It shall be mine. He pinned his ears back and tossed his head. The small horse waited for anyone to come. When none did come he smirked and lifted up on his back pillars Than if none shall come forth, this is my land.
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Post by J.D. Bennet on Oct 22, 2007 16:13:51 GMT -5
Name: Blue Cypress
Discription: The lands are filled with never ending hills of golden blades. Everything nourished to the proper embankment. Each blades taste sweet, and tender, a grassland that is hardly found amongst the lands of the wild equines. Streams roll off the edges of the rolling hills, everything crisp and pure. You will come to find that the foundation of many living organisms have found their ways around here, breathing life to the lands
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