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“Emeline turned around to discover the biggest, blackest horse breathing on her face. She stared up into enormous golden eyes. Flecks of red dusted the horse's irises, like a fire sparking, and her hot breath smelled like smoke. Holy hell. Emeline stepped quickly back----straight into the boy. The scent of him enveloped her: like crushed pine needles and oiled leather. "This is Lament." "Uh-huh," she whispered, staring at the massive beast, which was pawing the ground as if to say, I'm getting impatient! Let us leave! When she threw back her head, those golden eyes flickered red.” — Kristen Ciccarelli
Emeline turned around to discover the biggest, blackest horse breathing on her face. She stared up into enormous golden eyes. Flecks of red dusted the horse's irises, like a fire sparking, and her hot breath smelled like smoke.
Holy hell.
Emeline stepped quickly back----straight into the boy. The scent of him enveloped her: like crushed pine needles and oiled leather.
"This is Lament."
"Uh-huh," she whispered, staring at the massive beast, which was pawing the ground as if to say, I'm getting impatient! Let us leave! When she threw back her head, those golden eyes flickered red.