Wordsmoker

Arianna – a wild, bastard daughter from the more cunning end of Newmedia royalty – galloped across the rain-soaked plains on her favorite steed. The wind whipped her long rose-colored hair behind her bare neck and shoulders as she and her equine companion crossed a fast-flowing brook close to upper-west Huffington Abbey. Spittle flew from both their mouths in a mixture of joy and exertion.

“Faster, Denton!” she yelled.

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