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7. Privacy, Mr.Moore

“Misty,” Cassidy smiled as she tightened the saddle bags, Mateo on the other side of Misty doing the same thing. Above them as the sun shined, a buzzard flew south. Her blonde hair still wet from the small, cold bath she took in the river. 

“She's quite the biter,” Mateo laughed, gently pushing Misty’s black and white speckled nose, her blue roan coat shimmering. Pushing his hand into his pocket, Mateo fished out a small apple and fed it to Misty as a small treat. “I was saving it for later, but I think Misty needs it more than I do,” 

“Mateo…” She sighed, looking over her saddle to him, meeting his brown eyes and messy black hair. “About Thomas…”

He sighed as well, running a hand on Mi

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