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Larue
If fillies made of lemon candy could sweat, she would be dripping. The small, mischievous filly had been hard at work in the depths of the dark forest— a place that at first had frightened her. But, after her time with the dark vampress, she no longer found the dark and ominous shadows to be scary (well, not as scary, anyway).
Regardless, the trickster had devised her plan while cuddled into her dam’s warm side. Such a place was ripe for naps with impish dreams. And such a dream had been of a pit— a deep one. One so deep that she had nearly hadn’t been able to climb out of it after digging it in the forest. But never underestimate the power of sheer determination in a troublesome young filly. Her haunches had bunched and she had thrown her small, youthful body up and out of the deep hole she had dug.
Lemony skin coated in a fine layer of rich soil, she expanded on the plans of her dream by finding long pine branches filled with thick, green needles. These had been both difficult to find (the young filly thought branches would be easy to find on a forest floor!) and sharp to her soft foal’s mouth when she drug them over her freshly dug pit.
Still, her needle-poked mouth and sore legs were forgotten when she surveyed her handiwork. It was perfection— or at least as perfect as a small, young filly could make it. Pink, dirt-smudged muzzle of pink twitched in delight as her yellow fluff tail wiggled in anticipation— this would be exciting! This was, by far, her most well thought-out plan, yet!
She grinned, bright eyes twinkling, and she ducked behind the gnarled trunk of a nearby thick and old tree. Only the occasional blue glimmer of enthusiastic eyes and glitter of her candy nub of a horn betrayed her presence.
And she waited.
Regardless, the trickster had devised her plan while cuddled into her dam’s warm side. Such a place was ripe for naps with impish dreams. And such a dream had been of a pit— a deep one. One so deep that she had nearly hadn’t been able to climb out of it after digging it in the forest. But never underestimate the power of sheer determination in a troublesome young filly. Her haunches had bunched and she had thrown her small, youthful body up and out of the deep hole she had dug.
Lemony skin coated in a fine layer of rich soil, she expanded on the plans of her dream by finding long pine branches filled with thick, green needles. These had been both difficult to find (the young filly thought branches would be easy to find on a forest floor!) and sharp to her soft foal’s mouth when she drug them over her freshly dug pit.
Still, her needle-poked mouth and sore legs were forgotten when she surveyed her handiwork. It was perfection— or at least as perfect as a small, young filly could make it. Pink, dirt-smudged muzzle of pink twitched in delight as her yellow fluff tail wiggled in anticipation— this would be exciting! This was, by far, her most well thought-out plan, yet!
She grinned, bright eyes twinkling, and she ducked behind the gnarled trunk of a nearby thick and old tree. Only the occasional blue glimmer of enthusiastic eyes and glitter of her candy nub of a horn betrayed her presence.
And she waited.
@Raeden She's dug a small, deep hole and covered it with branches/pine-needles to try and trap something small (hopefully Tin!) in the thicker parts of the forest!
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