It seemed that my own smile had made the other mare splinter a grin herself. It is extremely astonishing what the power of cheerfulness and recognition can do. Just by putting the smile on my visage, I lit up this gathering, and made myself a new acquaintance. But when she returned that smile, I couldn’t help but feel so pompous and lofty. I couldn’t help but feel pleased to have found another creature, because I know now she is a gentle spirit.

The mare began to close the space between us, I relaxed my stance and unperturbed my muscles. My head held stable, I am content. Fully trusting in her.
Her nose commences towards me and in return I too extend my velvet muzzle to her, whether we bump or not, I know she means no mischief. Then her tones begin to come. ’Hello….’ My ears perquisite forwards as I pay attention closely, ’…I’m Africa; few wander the woods these days, are you looking for company?’ Although in the core of her sentence I jump. Eyes extensively open and my nares flaring with antagonism. My head has tossed around to the right of me as I initiate examination of the noise that come from the treetops and then entrenched against the forest, because I unquestionably was not expecting something or someone to disrupt my peace. -(Without my acknowledgement I am stepping closer to Africa, perhaps my body is thinking she will soothe and shield me. )- I am stationary in dialogue, contemplation, and my intellect. My eyes are fixed firmly on the blue roan headed our way. Slightly, I mean very slightly, I am aggravated by her presence; As she carries herself with a very vacant look. I see no affectionate smile or hear no greeting call, she creeps towards us as if she has invited herself to our little ‘chat’. Though I show no signs of my frustration, I calm myself instead and discharge my twisting muscles.

Ignoring her as she comes our way I answer Africa softly, ”Naveen… and indeed, I search for company.”
Now this roaned shape who comes our way has arrived to our congregation, communicating of some sort of evil that saunters among us. Is this twaddle? I’ve seen no evil (not the smallest amount) until she arrived. Something about the manner she held seemed contaminated. Perhaps she just chafed me wrong and I am only still irritated with her.
”This evil is real? And not some figment of your imagination?” I am not rude in my expressions, just a little sarcastic. I still smile warmly, gifting the roan with the light hair, my bliss and gentle attitude.