"Beats Mittens, Fluffy or, ugh, Pussy," he had added thoughtfully, and not a little thankfully, Spirella had observed.And thankful definitely describe... Spirella's mood as she pranced ahead of her attendants. Thankful she had been born a ponygirl. Thankful for her warm stall, her shiny tack, her comfortable bridle, her flexible harness, her adjustable clamps, her endless meadows and her dozens of dear friends like Marie-Noëlle.But most of all, Spirella was thankful that she, among all the. He had a gruff, wet voice I really liked and wore his dark hair slickedback from his brow in a way I thought sophisticated. His lean face andwarm smile made me tingle. Of course he was way older than me, in hislate twenties at least, but I liked an older man - they knew what theywere doing."Didn?t fancy it," I said, smiling up at him. He really was gorgeous,all of a sudden all I could think about was kissing him deeply."Don?t blame you. I hated it." Reaching into his pocket he pulled out apack. More

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