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They startle her, coming from nowhere as they do. One is clearly in the lead, the other following, two colts. They are the same colt, excepting different colors, the little mare frowns, two colts that are the same but different? She had never before encountered twins, and doesn't understand. Still, she watches them draw nearer her. They are her age, she would guess, or near it. The one offers her grass, which she sniffs hesitantly, declining to eat it...for they are strangers to her after all. Hesitation and suspicion aside, the young filly is curious of these strangers, as she enjoys meeting new horses indeed.
They both spoke kindly to her, and she sorted their voices with their bodies. Neither gave her a name, and so she resorted to calling them bright one and dark one. It is the bright one who gave her food, a chestnut and white creature who seems kindly enough. The dark one asks for her name.
"Wanyecha," she replies, dipping her head in greeting. His exclamation at her species makes her lift her horn happily, the creamy gold fixture glinting in the dying light of winter.
"Thank you for the grass," she adds, almost as an afterthought. Still, she does not take a bite, "What are you called?"
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