Holding their reins.
I feel the chilly wind blowing on my face.
Even though it is covered.
The tails of my coat fly and the dagger almost flings off its sheath.
They gallop and I fly.
The snow covered trees pass by and so do sepia tinted memories.
And I keep going. To where, I dont know.
A silver back fox trots by. Holding a fish in his jaws.
Solitude beckons me. Solitude is what I left behind.
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