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Dancing #63

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I was woken with a start by movements all around me, the sounds of feet trampling nearby.
You may imagine what I feared!
But I laughed when I knew my error. Forest ponies, merely, watching me, idly curious.
I'd slept, evidently, and now felt recovered and was no longer fevered.
So - was it a dream? The dance, my escape? Even my Highland comrade, a dream?
My reasoning restored, I turned and headed east again.
Fevered dreaming, I concluded.
And yet I never truly believed that, for the wounds on my neck and back were as real as I am now.

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