the smell of freedom

Event: The-White-December


Both of them where so happy as they reached the alps of Austria. No more mud. White. Everything covered in white.
"Well that's what I call a white december!", Andrew said while stroking his mare's neck. "And you're aswell all white again :3 I was already worried I would need to put you in the washing machine with lots of detergends afterwards to have you back in white, Miss Ex Muddy Vienna Christmas."



Andrew, Merry (c) dat-inu