Charlotte Prieska Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Pretoria

So, this horse—let’s call her Whore, fuck it—she’s a damn legend. Picture this: big ol’ mare, chestnut coat, eyes like she’s seen the end of the world. “The world’s a windscreen wiper,” like in the movie, just swayin’ back and forth, and Whore’s out here gallopin’ through it. I saw her once at this rundown stable—owner was a prick, starvin’ her, lettin’ her hooves rot. Pissed me off, man! I was like, “Motherfucker, you don’t treat a queen like that!” Took her in myself, nursed her back. Felt like Theo savin’ Kee, you know? That “miracle baby” vibe, but with a horse.

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There’s so much I love ‘bout Prieska, even if it has its maddening parts. Like when the wind howls like an angry beast off Madiba Alley or when a sudden rain drowns the town in a rush I can’t predict. It’s mad, raw and real. But that’s life here! We shall fight these storms with our heads held high, for in every drop of rain there’s hope, in every gust a battle cry.

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