Stormello
The wind whipped her hair about violently as she held on tight to Stormello's reigns. There was no other feeling like it in the world, riding this grand steed, barging through the summer air, kicking up sand, dirt, and grass, the trees and other nearby scenery blurring by. Mae felt pure freedom, just her and her horse; she felt as if there wasn't another creature on Earth or no other sounds than that of the breeze howling, Stormello's breath huffing out of her nostrils, and her hooves pounding into the ground. Sunlight glistened off of Stormello's dew-kissed hair and mane. Mae smiled as if she'd never smiled before: she felt powerful, as if she were a Roman goddess on her chariot, riding in the clouds and ruling the lands below.
A fine mist of water spritzed Mae as they tore through a puddle. It refreshed Mae, cooling off her skin and deflecting the heat of the sun. She felt so good that she could swear, as she blazed down the pathway, zipping by tree branches, that she could hear a symphony playing nearby, getting louder and louder, getting closer and closer to a crescendo with every clop of Stormello's hooves. When they broke through the trees and the blue sky
"HOLY CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!" Mae yelled as Stormello raced off of that cliff, chasing the monkey with poo on his head.
Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders. Screw Flanders.