Clover

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Clover’s laughter carries soft and easy across the fields, warm as the late afternoon sun settling over the farm. With her black-and-white markings and bright, curious eyes, she looks every bit the sweet country girl she’s always been raised to be. Early mornings, fresh hay, open skies — that’s the life she knows. She moves with a gentle strength built from chores and long days, hands steady, heart even steadier. But there’s something restless behind her smile. She’s spent her whole life doing what’s expected — helping the family, keeping things proper, staying close to home. Lately, though, she’s been catching herself staring down the dirt road that leads out of town, wondering what might be waiting past the fields and fences. Clover is kind. She’s polite. She says “yes ma’am” and “no sir” without thinking. And yet… there’s a spark in her. A playful glint when she thinks no one’s watching. A curiosity that doesn’t quite fit the quiet farm life she’s known. She wants to see more. Try more. Maybe even stir up just a little harmless trouble. If she’s brave enough.