The distant rumbling, as Jack sat on his horse called Arthur, reminded him vaguely, as though a dream from his sordid past returned only lately to haunt him, that, although in his time he had slain many and moderately severely maimed roughly the same number, give or take five, it was oats time and his feedbag was empty.
Only back temporarily (keep squirreling!)
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Vicious squirrel, barely restrained by leash.
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