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The stallion pondered the leaves on the tree, and the red strings tying them to the tree's roots in the ground.

Was it that connection that made the leaves fall? Or was it just a representation of that natural process? He wasn't sure. He wasn't sure he'd figure it out by looking at them.

He wasn't sure it mattered either way, though. And he liked looking at them. He could probably pluck those strings if he wanted to, but he didn't. He preferred to just watch them, and sit there.

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