|%|t' buckskin vix'n turns t'ward t' ebon hued steed, lobes prick'd t'ward he 'top chisel'd pate, charcoal optics watching he, ebon banner whipping at ebon dipp'd, sandy hued hocks o' he, toss o' dish'd dial given, ebon locks cascading o'er sleek, arabic neck o' she. a smile 'ppears 'pon ebon dipp'd features o' she at his 'pproach, chisel'd pate extends t'ward his, soft whicker o' greeting 'mitt'd from her vocals, indicators swiveling 'top her skull, dark forelock cascading o'er her dark, raven orbs. she 'twas fine, as usual. and how 'twas he?|%|