You stare at the horse, and instantly recognize it. The horse is called Dewy, he is a Clydesdale standing at 18.4 hands. His fur is long and dark, and his hooves are covered in long white hair. You also notice he is in the walk way, not his pen.
"How did you get out?" You wonder out loud.
Dewy gazes back at you lazily, then seemingly uninterested he turns his head and starts to inspect the wall.
"Come on then." You say, putting your hand on his neck to guide it.
You get the horse to follow you back to it's pen and you shut the gate behind him. You then look down at the hand you touched the horse with, it is black with dirt.
"How...? I just washed you!"
You look up and jump back, nearly falling over; the Dewy's snout is inches away from your face.
Steadying yourself on the wall, you let your heart slow down, then shaking your head you pick up a stool and brush you go into the horse's pen.
You set the stool on the ground and climb on it and begin to brush his fur, starting with his neck and working your way back. Your doing this causes a cloud of dust to roll off of the horse, making you choke and gag. As you do such you lose your balance and step backwards off the stool, there is a moment where you flail with your arms in a desperate hope you can grab something, but there is nothing, so you fall hard onto the wood-chip strewn floor.
When you vision finally clears you realize you are sprawled out on the floor staring up at the celling. Something suddenly blocks your view, and you clearly see...
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