We had a mare once.

I hated her. She hated me. I swear, she gave the shifty eye look every time Dad wasn’t with the two of us together. I was about to lose a battle of wits to an animal when she slipped in the mud. It tore her carpal sack in one of her legs, and it basically made her useless for riding. She was lucky; dad sold her on to an appaloosa breeder who didn’t mind she’d never be able to carry an adult’s weight again.

That was the closest case of terminal carpel tunnel syndrome I’ve ever heard of. Until today. Owwwww, damn it, my wrists are killing me.

The good news is, Legacy is done. 47,000 words in exactly 30 days (during which I finished the two rounds of edits and the final copy editing phase of Lineage).

The bad news is, OOOWWWWWWW!

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