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Posted: Fri Feb 22, 2019 10:38 pm
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Seafeather was doing what he did best -- ruffle his feathers until they felt nice and presentable and clean. The stallion gave out a small warrior cry before beginning his hunt -- he felt like having a mouse or something today, and set off to find one. Being a hippogryph, Seafeather was proud of his feathers, but the same time, he was not so blessed with wings. He long for them, wanting to soar the skies and have daring adventures. But he was stuck on the ground. Hunting for a mouse.
On his hunt, he heard a voice call out in desperation for some help. The stallion scraped the dirt below him, contemplating helping out whoever it was, or finding his meal. He changed course and began to hunt for the needed, worried that something might have happened to the poor creature.
"I'm here," he said, once finding the mess of a stallion who looked scared and lost. What was wrong with this big brute? "What is it that you need help with?"
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