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"I will, Daddy. I promise." She released Faen from her grip. "Come on, Faen, I'll show you my room. That's where you're going to sleep from now on."
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Henry watched as Faedra lowered herself off the swing and wandered towards the house, followed closely by Faen wagging his enormous shaggy tail. Henry scratched his head at the sight.
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Present Day
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Faedra pulled down the indicator lever on the steering wheel to signal she was turning left. The soft tick-tick noise it made instilled a sense of relief in her as she turned onto the driveway that led to the cottage. She was home, and tomorrow was Saturday. She only made it half way down the driveway before her shaggy white dog came bounding up towards the car to greet her.
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She stopped her car and she smiled at him, rolling her window down as he placed his giant front paws on the car door and leaned his head in to plant a lolloping wet kiss on her cheek. She laughed as she grabbed a thick handful of fur on either side of his head and leaned her cheek against the side of his face. This had become their daily ritual since Faedra had started driving and gotten herself a job. She'd taken a year off before she started college so she could get a job and save some money. College didn't come cheap these days. Her father had offered to pay, but she didn't want him to shoulder all of the cost on his own.
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"Hey, boy. Yes, I love you, too," she responded to another sloppy kiss.
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She leaned over to the back door and pushed it open from the inside.
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"In you get," she told him.
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Faen wagged his tail voraciously and did as Faedra asked. She pulled the door closed and carried on down the driveway towards the cottage while Faen panted his hot breath in her ear. Upon turning a sharp bend in the driveway, the cottage came into view. She never tired of its beauty, or the warm feeling it gave her just to look at it. The cottage was many hundreds of years old and had been handed down through the family for generations. Her dad had completed many restorative projects on it since her mother inherited it before Faedra was born. This, in itself, was a sad thing because that meant she had never known her grandparents. They both died in a car accident before she was born. After living with the pain of loosing her own mother, Faedra felt full sympathy for what her mother must have gone through, losing both her parents in one fell swoop. Although, her mother had been much older than Faedra when it happened to her. She was already married to her father, Henry, and pregnant with Faedra.
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The cottage had cream walls with an array of black oak beams that were exposed both on the outside and on the inside. A beautiful climbing rose crept up the wall on a trellis and was in full bloom, exhibiting an abundance of bright sunny yellow petals. Her mother had planted it the year Faedra was born. She had watched her father carefully tend the plant ever since.
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Her father had also added a few more rooms on the back of the cottage, making it twice the size of the original dwelling. The living room, dining room, and two of the upstairs bedrooms were original and they were Faedra's favorite rooms. You almost had to duck when you walked into the living room, the ceilings were so low. People had been much smaller in stature when the cottage was first built. But the living room was a complete contrast to the dining room that Faedra had lovingly named 'The Great Hall'.
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The dining room was a cavernous room with an imposing brick fireplace at one end. A ceiling that towered two stories high was handsomely finished with exposed black oak beams running parallel to each other for the length of it. A staircase ran up one side of the room to a door at the top that led to her bedroom. She made sure she kept the front bedroom for herself, even after her father had finished a beautiful new room for her towards the back of the house. She had resisted, and with sensitivity, declined. There was something about the history in the old section of the house that she didn't want to be parted from.
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Faedra pulled her car in beside her father's. He worked from home; he had ever since her mother died. For that, she felt blessed. His job enabled him to stay at home so she did not have to be shipped off to a childcare provider every day. This turn of events had also made them very close. She loved her father with all her heart, and he felt the same about her. She smiled when she saw the other car parked next to her father's. It belonged to her uncle Leo. He'd been an integral part of her upbringing, too, and she always enjoyed seeing him when he came around to visit.
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She opened the door to let Faen out and reached in to grab her bag that had been thrown precariously on the back seat when she left work earlier. Faen waited by her side until she closed the door. He looked up at her and wagged his tail.
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"Thank God that week is finished with," she told him. "I'm not sure I could've taken much more of Mr. Thompson. I honestly don't know why he's got it in for me."
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Faen barked, as if agreeing with her.
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"You know, boy, sometimes I could swear you understand every word I say."
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She walked the few steps it took to reach the front door, kicked off her shoes inside the front porch, and lifted up the old-fashioned, black wrought iron latch on the door that led into the living room. The latch made its familiar chinking sound, a sound full of history and memories. It must have been lifted many thousands of times over its history, sometimes to welcome people in, and sometimes to bid them farewell. The memories it held seemingly endless. The quickening of a heartbeat when someone, patiently awaiting a loved one to return home, heard the latch chink. The relief, when an unwelcome or irritating visitor exited. Faedra's memories of walking through this door had always been happy ones, except for one solitary entrance, the day her mother died. She knew it would never welcome her mum home again. She let out a sigh.
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As she swung the door open, she felt the need to duck, even though the ceiling was at least a foot taller than she was. She looked around the cozy living room. There was a fireplace, also. Actually, there was a fireplace in all the original rooms of the cottage, as back in the day, that was the only way to heat the house. She listened for signs of life and could hear voices coming from the kitchen.
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"Come on, boy. They're in the kitchen."
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She closed the living room door and wandered through to the contrastingly spacious dining room. The kitchen was located on the other side. Faen followed at her heels. He very rarely let her out of his sight when she was home.
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"Hi, guys," she called as she reached the kitchen.
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Her dad, uncle, and her uncle's wife, Nicki, were all seated around the kitchen table, situated in the center of the room. They had their hands wrapped around cups of tea, and a plate of cookies sat in the center of the table. Faedra strode over to where her dad was sitting, and planted a kiss on his forehead then leaned past him to grab a cookie.
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"Hey, Dad."
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"Hello, darling. How was your day?"
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"Oh, you know, the usual."
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"Mr. Thompson still treating you badly?"
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"I don't know why you put up with his crap, Faedra," Uncle Leo chimed in, "I would have told him where to stick his job a long time ago."
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"Thanks, Uncle Leo, but I need the money and it's not for much longer, I'll be starting college soon." Faedra made her way around the table to where her uncle sat, and leaned over to wrap her arms around his neck. "I'll survive, I promise," she smiled her cheeky grin at him and planted a kiss on his cheek.
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"Well, you have the patience of a saint, that's all I can say," Leo continued.
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"Hey, Nicki, what are you doing this weekend?" Faedra asked, quickly changing the subject of her dire working arrangements.
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Her uncle had met Nicki not long after her mother had died and Faedra had taken to her straight away. Although Nicki was a good ten years older than herself, she had treated Faedra like a sister and taken her under her wing. She was happy that her uncle had found such a wonderful person and wished that her Dad would do the same. It had been nearly twelve years since that fateful day, and her Dad had never been interested in meeting anyone else even after all these years. She worried all the time that he would be so alone when eventually the inevitable happened and she moved out.
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"We are attempting to take your Dad out on the boat tomorrow, get him out of this house for a change," Nicki replied.
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Faedra watched as her father raised his eyes heavenward. She knew her uncle had been trying to get him out to meet new people, mainly of the female variety, for a while. She sympathized with her dad after he had confided in her that he felt like a prize bull being paraded around a judging ring.
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"That sounds like fun, Dad. I'd go with you if I didn't already have plans. I was going to invite Nicki to come with us to Strawberry Fair tomorrow."
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"Thanks, Fae, but you're already taking Amy and Zoë, and Faen, no doubt. It would have been just a little squashed in the back of your car."
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She had a point, Faen let out a little whine.
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"Don't worry, you're still coming," Faedra told him, and he wagged his tail.
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Since he had turned up that day of the funeral, they were virtually inseparable apart from when social decorum dictated. He could not go with her to school or to work, but waited patiently each day until she came home, and then didn't leave her side until the next morning.
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"It's a good thing Zoë loves you almost as much as I do," she told him kneeling down to rub his velvety soft ears. "You can ride in the back with her, she'll love that." She turned to her family. "Well, excuse me, everyone, I'm going to get changed and run out to the barn. It's a beautiful evening for a ride."
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"Hey, young lady," her dad called as she was headed in the direction of her bedroom. "You still haven't told me what you want to do for your eighteenth birthday. It's just around the corner, or have you forgotten?" There was a hint of sarcasm in his tone.
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Faedra raised her eyes at Faen, who was looking at her excitedly.
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"Dad, I've already told you, I would like a small dinner here with you guys, Amy and Zoë, and I will be in seventh heaven. So don't go planning anything big for me, will you, I don't want any fuss. Promise?"
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Her father let out a sigh. He would love to give his little girl a big birthday bash, but knew she wouldn't enjoy it. He had to be satisfied with a small, family and friends get together instead.
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"Okay, Darling, I promise." his voice was laced with disappointment.
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CHAPTER TWO
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Faedra sprinted up the stairs to her bedroom, followed, as usual, by her faithful friend. She drew up the latch on the door, which was also of the original old wrought iron variety, and entered her room. Throwing her bag clumsily on the bed, its contents fanned themselves out all over the comforter because the clasp was not closed securely enough. She gave the mess a look of nonchalance and shrugged her shoulders. It was the weekend and she didn't care, it could be tidied up later.
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Her room was spacious and located above the living room, but unlike the room below hers, this one had tall vaulted ceilings. Another fireplace stood on the same wall as the door. She assumed it connected to the imposing fireplace in the dining room below. The walls were painted in a muted yellow and the windows were dressed with floral drapes that looked completely at home in the old cottage. On the opposite wall to the fireplace, stood her dresser with a beautiful antique vanity mirror and an array of toiletries and cosmetics. The type that adorned most of the dressers owned by seventeen year old girls. On the other side of the window was a desk. It was more modern and looked very out of place in her quaint bedroom. A beautiful heirloom doll's house stood on its own platform opposite her bed. Her mother had given it to her when she was a child and had told her the story behind it. She had treasured it ever since. Her grandfather had built it with love for her grandmother, who passed it to her mother when she was a child. Her grandfather also made all of the furniture inside the house. She often stared in awe at the intricate detail of the tiny pieces, wondering how two big human hands could have created such delicate objects. There was an old wicker chair next to the doll's house with a fleecy pale green bathrobe draped over it.
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On the wall next to the fireplace there was a small built-in closet that she had renovated, adding a glass door and shelving, to be a showcase for her spectacular collections of fairies. Her favorite, Arianne, taking center stage. She'd been collecting them ever since her mother had given her the beautiful figurine of a fairy on a stunning black horse, the day she died.
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"You don't think I'm being mean, not letting Dad throw me a big birthday bash do you, boy?" she asked Faen as she opened the door to her collection, reaching in and carefully picking up the figurine of Arianne. "But it's just too close to Mum's anniversary and I can't bring myself to celebrate when it's that close."
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Faedra never felt compelled to celebrate her birthday at all, as it fell just a few days after the anniversary of her mother's death. Faen leaned up against her leg and let out a small whine. She admired the figurine for a moment with sadness. It was the most beautiful fairy she possessed, but it was linked to the saddest memory she possessed, also.
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"Ouch, here it goes again," she winced, and replaced the fairy in her showcase and looked at her palms. "I wish I knew why they did that," she stated, blowing on the palms of her hands in an effort to cool them.
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For the past few weeks the palms of Faedra's hands had intermittently seared with a burning sensation, but there was never a rash or any redness. She couldn't understand what was causing it. She was starting to get concerned about it as the intensity and frequency was increasing. She made a mental note to go and see a doctor; though, she wasn't sure what he would say when there was no visible sign that anything was amiss.
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"He'd probably just think I was crazy," she thought out loud.
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Faen barked, distracting Faedra from her reverie.
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"Okay, okay, I'll get ready, just hold your horses." She smiled at him. She knew he loved going to the horse barn with her and jogging alongside when she took her horse out on a trail ride.
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She opened up her clothing closet on the other side of the fireplace, and pulled out her jodhpurs and a t-shirt, then discarded her work clothes to join the disarray already building on her bed. She wiggled into her jodhpurs - it was a good thing she was slim, as they didn't leave any room for expansion - pulled on her t-shirt, and wandered over to the dresser. She scooped up the mass of curly red hair that was tumbling down her back and tied it in a ponytail at the nape of her neck then turned and headed for the door.
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"Come on, boy. Let's go."
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She popped her head in the kitchen doorway on her way out.
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"Be back later, Dad. Bye, Uncle Leo. Bye, Nicki, see you soon."
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Choruses of have fun and ride carefully resonated from the table, but she had already turned and was heading for the front door.
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"Love you guys." she called over her shoulder as she exited into the living room.
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Once inside the porch, she pulled on her riding boots and marched out the front door. Faedra wandered round to the right where the climbing rose bush was blooming in all its glory against the front wall of the cottage. She carefully picked one stem with a bud that was just about to open, then strode over to the car, opening the back door for Faen first, who jumped in wagging his tail. She got in and laid the rose with care on the passenger seat as if it was the most delicate thing she had ever handled.
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Her horse was stabled at a barn just a short drive away on the other side of the village. It only took a few minutes to get there by car; before she could drive, she had ridden her bicycle there come rain or shine. The boarding stables were another of her favorite places, not only because it was home to her horse, but because it, too, was a historic building. It used to be an old farm and the section that housed the stables dated back to when they had to pull the plough by draft horses. The stables lay abandoned for the longest time until the owner decided to retire from the farming business and renovated them to rent out. The buildings were full of character. Faedra often found herself imagining what it must have been like to see the heads of all those big draft horses leaning over the stall doors, before the advent of tractors had made them all redundant.
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She pulled into the small car park that was set aside for the boarders, picked up the rose from the passenger seat and hopped out of the car, opening the door for Faen so he could join her. She took a deep breath and looked across the road to where the village church stood proudly amongst the headstones that were dotted about all over the church grounds. The vicar once told her that the original part of the church was built in 1160. That was old by anyone's standards, and the two bells that hung in the square bell tower were thought to be the oldest in England. One of them was from 1350 and the other from the fifteenth century. It never ceased to amaze her that something that old could still be standing.
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"Come on, let's go say hi to Mum," she said to Faen and looked both ways down the narrow country lane before crossing.
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She wandered up the little path that led to the church. Upon reaching the door she veered off to the right and followed the path that led behind it. There, spread out before her, was the main part of the graveyard, the section where her mother had been laid to rest nearly twelve years prior.
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An odd sensation washed over her and she snapped her head to the left in the direction that it came from. This had been happening more frequently on her recent visits to the churchyard. Yet again, there was nothing there except the familiar figure of a black and white border collie, who upon seeing Faedra, came bounding over wagging her tail so vigorously her whole body wiggled in synchronization with it. She assumed the dog belonged to the vicar, but had never seen them together. When the dog reached Faedra, she sat down in front of her, looked up and gave her a definitive smile. The first time she had done this, Faedra thought she was baring her teeth in a vicious way and had been quite unnerved. But it became apparent that the dog was 'smiling', and it was the funniest thing she had ever seen. When the dog 'smiled' she also squinted her eyes in an 'I know something you don't know' fashion.
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Faen growled faintly at the other dog as he always did, and, in response, the collie rubbed her head under Faen's chin just as she always did.
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"Be nice, Faen, I think she likes you," Faedra giggled. If a dog could go "urmph", she swore Faen would have. The look of dejection on his face was priceless. It was as if he were an older sibling being forced to play with a younger brother or sister.
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She bent down to pat the friendly hound, and when she was finished, the dog got up and trotted back to where she always sat, in front of the northwest corner of the church. Faedra stepped off the path onto the manicured grass and meandered her way through the headstones until she reached her mother's.
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"Hi, Mum," she said, placing the rose she had picked earlier on top of the stone, replacing the one from a few days before that was now shriveled and dry.
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"Just thought I'd pop by and say hello before I take Gypsy out for a ride."
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"Good evening, Faedra." A voice called from behind her. She turned.
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"Oh, hello, Vicar. How are you this evening?"
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"Very well thank you, my dear. I see you are off for a ride this fine day," he replied, taking note of Faedra's clothing.
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"Sure am. It's a beautiful evening for it."
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"Well, you have fun, my dear," he said before heading towards the vicarage.
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"Excuse me, Vicar," Faedra called out after him.
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"Yes, dear?"
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"Does that black and white dog belong to you?"
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"Which black and white dog, dear?"
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"That one..." Faedra's voice trailed off as she noticed the empty space in the direction she was pointing. "The black and white collie that always sits over there."
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"Can't say I've ever noticed one. Must be a stray; we don't have a dog."
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"Oh, never mind then," she said, drawing her eyebrows together as she watched the vicar walk out of sight. She looked over to where she had just pointed, and, sure enough, the dog was sitting there again like she'd never left.
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"Hmm, that's odd," she said, looking down at Faen and shaking her head. "Come on, let's go get Gypsy tacked up. Bye, Mum, I'll be back soon." She kissed her fingertips and pressed them against the headstone, letting them linger for a moment, before turning toward the path and heading back in the direction of the horse barn.
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When she walked back over to the barn, she noticed her friend getting out of a car and wandered over to greet her.
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"Hi, Lisa, going out for a ride tonight?" she asked.
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"Haven't made my mind up yet. Which trail are you thinking of taking?"
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"I thought I would go through the woods; it's warm and the shade would keep us cool."
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"Nah, then I'll have to say no, Fae. Those woods give me the creeps," Lisa replied with a shudder.
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"They do? Why?"
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"I can't explain it. I just get a weird feeling in there, freaks me out."
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Faedra raised her eyebrows at Lisa's descriptive distaste for the woods, but that wouldn't deter her. She had always loved riding through the woods and never felt anything weird, must be Lisa's overactive imagination.
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"Okay, no worries. We'll catch up for a ride somewhere else another time then?" Faedra said as she made off in the direction of the paddocks.
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"Sure thing, Fae. Catch you later," Lisa was already across the car park and heading toward the stables.
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Gypsy was grazing at the far end of the field when Faedra and Faen reached the gate to her paddock.
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"Gypsy!" Faedra called. "Come here, girl!"
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Gypsy's head popped up and looked in Faedra's direction. It was obvious she recognized her voice. Her horse turned and started to walk toward the gate, then the walk turned to a trot, which turned to a canter, until the thunder of her hooves could be heard on the ground. Faedra grinned. She loved that sound. It was a sound she always associated with a feeling of freedom. That's just how she felt when she was on Gypsy's back going that speed. The wind in her face, the thunder of hooves below her, and the countryside zipping past in a blur as they flew like the wind along the trails.
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Gypsy was a striking beauty in Faedra's book. Her coloring was classed as blue roan, she had a black coat with white flecks all the way through it that gave her a bluish tinge from a distance. She had a black mane and tail, and a white blaze down the length of her face that had an odd crescent shape to it just below her ears. Three of her legs had white socks that went almost up to her knees and one back leg had just an 'ankle sock'. Gypsy slowed as she neared the gate and walked calmly until she was standing just before it. Faedra leaned over the gate and held out a treat for her. Gypsy nuzzled the palm of her hand, gently picking the treat from it.
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