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On Gramma's wooden porch under clear daylight, Lucy clutches Gramma as she kneels to embrace her; Lucy's face shows alarm, Gramma's calm reassurance. Behind them, the distant stable gate stands ajar, emphasizing the missing horses.
Lucy ran to Gramma's porch. The stable gate stood open. "Gramma, Tinkerbell One and Two are gone!" Lucy cried. Gramma hugged her gently. "We'll find them, brave girl," she said.
In front of Gramma's cottage doorway under soft morning light, Lucy shoulders a small backpack of water and bandages while Gramma slips a map and apples into her satchel; Gramma locks the door with a click, determination on both faces.
Gramma packed a map, apples, and a lead rope. Lucy grabbed water and bandages. "Searching takes bravery and care," Gramma said. "I'm determined," Lucy whispered. They locked the house and started walking.
On a tree-lined suburban street beneath diffused afternoon shade, Lucy grips Gramma's hand and gazes at a curl-shaped street sign, eyebrows anxious; Gramma points ahead, her expression encouraging, fallen leaves scattered around their boots.
They entered an unfamiliar neighborhood of tall trees. Street names looked strange and twisty. "Stay close," Gramma reminded. Lucy held Gramma's hand tightly. "Tinkerbells, we love you," she called.
Beside a sidewalk bush glistening in late-day sun, Lucy holds up a pink mane bead between thumb and forefinger, eyes bright with hope, while Gramma leans forward smiling and gesturing toward a faint scuffed dirt trail leading away.
A sparkle glinted on a bush. Lucy plucked a pink bead. "Tinkerbell One's mane beads!" she said. Gramma smiled. "That's a clue, this way!" Gramma said. They followed scuffed dirt along the sidewalk.
In a narrow alley of corrugated garages under cloudy afternoon light, Lucy crouches beside a muddy puddle pointing at fresh hoofprints, lips parted in awe; behind her, Gramma raises a finger to her lips, tin cans rattling nearby.
Hoofprints dotted a muddy puddle. "Fresh!" Lucy whispered. A soft whinny drifted from behind garages. "I'm a little scared," she admitted. "We'll be brave together," said Gramma. They tiptoed past rattling cans.
At a creaking backyard gate in soft evening glow, Lucy and Gramma gently lift a snagged lead rope from a trembling chestnut horse's neck; Lucy's face shows soothing concern while Gramma concentrates, hands steady on the knot.
A chestnut tail swished near a gate. "Tinkerbell One?" Lucy called softly. A chestnut head peeked out, trembling. "She's stuck," Gramma said. Together they lifted the snagged lead rope free.
Beside a dimly lit alley fence at dusk, Lucy strokes the chestnut horse's neck, smiling hopefully, while Gramma offers a metal water bucket; the horse nuzzles Lucy's sleeve and tosses its mane toward the shadowed path ahead.
Lucy stroked her neck kindly. "It's okay, sweetheart," she murmured. Tinkerbell One nuzzled Lucy's sleeve. Gramma offered water. "Can you show us Tinkerbell Two?" Lucy asked. The horse tossed her mane and stepped forward.
In an alley lined with stacked glass bottles that clink under the low amber streetlights, Lucy and Gramma walk side by side humming softly; their stretched shadows wiggle along the brick wall, Lucy holding the lead rope tightly.
They followed through an alley of clinking bottles. Shadows stretched long and wiggly. "My tummy feels wobbly," Lucy said. "Courage means moving kindly anyway," said Gramma. They hummed a gentle tune together.
Behind a row of tall blue recycling bins in muted lamplight, Gramma extends a red apple toward a wide-eyed dapple gray horse peeking out, while Lucy stands nearby whispering encouragement, her free hand resting on Tinkerbell One’s halter.
A faint clink of horseshoe rang. Something shifted behind blue bins. "Tinkerbell Two?" Gramma called warmly. A dapple gray face peeked out, eyes wide. "She's frightened," Lucy whispered. "Come, friend," she offered an apple.
On a quiet residential sidewalk under early starlight, Lucy clips a lead onto a purple halter as Gramma steadies the second horse; the two horses touch noses gently while night sky sparkles above their slow, relieved procession.
Tinkerbell Two sniffed, then stepped closer. Tinkerbell One whickered hello. "You're safe together," Gramma said. Lucy clipped the lead to the purple halter. They walked slowly, stopping for sips. Stars blinked on above them.
Inside the lamplit stable, Lucy brushes both horses’ coats beside Gramma, who hangs engraved name tags on the wooden halters; straw lies scattered on the floor and warm breath clouds the cool night air around their smiling faces.
Back home, Gramma hung name tags on halters. Lucy brushed both horses carefully. "Thank you for trusting us," she said. The Tinkerbells breathed warm, happy puffs. "Determination and compassion work," Gramma smiled.
In the softly lit stall before bedtime, Lucy leans against Tinkerbell One’s neck, eyes dreamy, while Gramma stands beside them with a rolled stack of poster boards, lantern light casting gentle shadows across the hay-strewn floor.
Lucy cuddled Tinkerbell One's neck. "Tonight I learned bravery," she said. "I learned kindness too." Gramma nodded, eyes twinkling. "Tomorrow we'll make bright posters for the gate," she added. Safe, everyone slept peacefully.
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