Too Bad With Her Mouth Open, She's Scratching...
Edward rushed to the open cell and said, “Come on, Mary.” Her tea, he noticed, had not been touched. He led her out the back door. Nearby he had tethered two horses—Mary’s favorite, a black mare, and the horse called Galahad, the fastest in the stables. He handed Mary a pair of his winter long johns to keep her from chafing, watched her put them on, then helped her onto her mare. “My cat?” she said. “He’s in the basket behind you.” He’d fastened a closed-lid basket to the back of the saddle. Mary opened the lid and, smiling, dipped her hand inside. Edward mounted his stallion. “We have to be going.” They rode hard to the east for a while on the main road, trying to put distance between them and Salem Town. Then Mary left the road and headed towards a bush thick with oak and hickory trees. At the tallest tree she dismounted and said, “Did you bring a spade?” Edward pulled the hand tool out of his saddle bag and gave it to her. She got on her knees and began digging. “Do you. Once he rose to his knees he immediately saw the large, magnificent, bird of prey. It was clearly in distress and all thoughts of aching muscles were suddenly gone as Donnie crawled closer to see whether he could help it.Up close, the bird was even more impressive. Donnie guessed it was over two feet in length, its feathers mostly brown but with flecks of gold on the back on its head and neck and some splashes of white on the wings and tail. The bird's feet and part of one wing seemed tangled in something – "fishing line," Donnie thought – and it was struggling to try to free itself."A golden eagle! Is that why you've brought me here, Beira? Is this who needs my help? Am I to save this magnificent bird for you? That's not much of a challenge! I would gladly climb this mountain all over again for the chance to help such a king of birds," Donnie thought.He could see that the bird's struggles were growing weaker and he wondered just how long it had been trapped.Rummaging through his.
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