Lost Creek Hollow the milk is drying up

He bent away from Lasher's muzzle, laughing merrily as he changed course and continued sprinting. His tail danced wildly behind him, and he bounded and leapt amid long, graceful strides. Not long into this game of chase he lowered his head and threw himself headlong into as fast a pace as he could muster. Then, without warning, he braked hard, thrusting his forepaws ahead and using his momentum to spin his hindquarters around until he squarely faced his pursuer.