I had been sticking close to Father's side for the past few days. Life Giver had been there but not really, not that I minded anyway. Father was much more appealing than she. My legs had gained strength since my glorious arrival into this world, making it easier to keep up with his strong, long legs. I guess when I got older and inevitably grew, that I would also have strong and long legs. That wasn't something to be thinking of right now, there were other things that needed to be addressed. Looking up into those grey eyes he spoke, glancing only slightly to another fat bitch standing ahead of the entire group. Was that how all of the mares looked in this herd? If so I don't think I would want to stay here long. Silver gaze dancing from Father's and to those around me, I listened attentively to what he had, mentioning that second fat bitch actually had a name; Megara, and she was one of their rulers. One of. Did that mean there were more?

Was Father one of these rulers? Or had he just not achieved such a feat yet? I didn't dare ask, not when he seemed so focused on what she had to say. This must be an important day for him, for he had taken the time to groom himself too. I had watched the entire process, the effort and time he took to make himself look well; presentable. I had always thought he should have done this sooner, but I would never say such things to him. Not if I valued my precious life. So instead I had simply done his bidding, sticking to him like a second shadow, and retained everything he told me in my head. It seemed that there were times he thought that I didn't understand what he was saying, that my young mind couldn't comprehend anything that he might say.

Yet so far all of it made sense, it was pretty logical reasoning. I don't know what foals he had dealt with before; but I was not like them. I was intelligent, keen and quick on my feet. Not to mention I was absolutely gorgeous! Not that he would ever appreciate my beauty, which somewhere within irked me. I had to be good enough for him, I needed to make him happy, and I would do whatever it took for him to have a look of approval in his eyes when he looked down at me. He said the day I took my first breath that I would accomplish great things, so why was he not proud of me just for that? Those questions could only be answered with time. My world of inner thoughts were shattered once his words were gracing my ears again, only this time they were not for me.

He was speaking to Miss Sultana, who stood all high and mighty in her spot before us, and what he was asking seemed important. Guardian. He wanted to be a Guardian. Though the meaning of this was to my dismay beyond my reasoning, I presumed it was something of importance. For Father to take such time into his self appearance, to act so... docile towards someone, meant that he wanted something, and he wanted it pretty damn badly. Swishing creamy fluff behind my silver hind end, I watched his movements closely; studying his wording and facial expressions, taking it all in so that I could remember it and harness it. He was the mastermind, the one pulling the strings in every scheme, and in order for me to be something word keeping around; along with insuring my own success, I needed to be very attentive.

There were others continuing to gather around us, filing in like lost sheep to be slaughtered by wolves. If only that were the true reality, I need something to keep me from dying of boredom. In my little life, I've concluded so far that meetings suck. Period. Yet it only got interesting when a black beast with large appendages like the Sultana's stepped forward, speaking in broken words. Didn't his Life Giver teach him how to talk? Jesus how painfully awful sounding was his speaking to my ears. I almost couldn't listen to it all, trying to cover my ears with something, until the context of his speech became awfully peculiar reached my delicate (and now most likely bleeding) ears. A spar with Father? The concept sounded interesting.

"Father," I whispered in my delicate falsetto, looking to him with my large eyes and batting them in question, speaking again slowly, making sure to form my words properly,"Is he challenging you to something?" To ask more would probably be too probing, or unnecessary. Keeping my sentences short, brief, and to the point seemed to be the best option in the long run when it came to Father. I would learn over time how to communicate with him, to understand what it was he exactly wanted from me. Until then I would remain neutral, cautious and attentive so as to learn everything I can from him.

[ Lots of rambling and observations, mostly revolved around @Reginald 
Let me know if you would like me to change anything Smithers! <3 ]