And here I thought that I was alone.

I should not expect that mother would truly leave me alone, since I am still so young, but I am quite disgruntled that I need to be babysat. I can hear her hoofbeats, and they break my concentration. My ears slick back for a short moment before I catch my temper. It would be childish to be upset in this situation, I think, and I do not want to be seen as a child. I know that I am young, but that does not make me foolish, does it?

The white of her coat is something I recognize as different from mother. Mother is dark, with a white mane that is so similar to my own. Our horns are different, though, my little stubby protrustions not centered like her own. Plus, I have strange appendages that grow from my back unlike her. They had odd little hairs that grow from them, and I believe mother called them wings. I am not very interested in my own appearance, though. Like I had said, there is so much to be seen in the world, and I will always have myself to look at, but this ephemeral world is not such a blessing.

I stare at the lake in protest of her watchful eyes, looking at the glimmer of sunlight on its glassy surface. However, this mare, pale in coloring, is persistent, and she lowers her head to my level. I give a glance with my bitoned eye, seeing the crimson that also belongs to mother. This is not mother, but her face is still familiar. I believe that I should know her, but my memory is blurry, so frustratingly blurry. I concede, turning my face to look at her with both eyes, noting the red strands in her hair.

Crimson.

It strikes somewhere in my memory, the appearance of this mare, and her voice sounds eerily familiar. More than anything, though, the scent she gives off reminds me. She was there the day mother met me. She met me as well. Who is she? Why do I know her? Is she someone mother knows? Her voice is friendly, but I do not smile, instead I tuck my head shyly down near my legs after a moment of glancing at her.

"The world is never the same," I say sullenly from between my crooked legs as I stare out at the water. "It always seems to look different, every time I blink."

I hoped that she would understand.