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Waves crashed in front of her; the white foam bringing itself up and around her delicate hooves in the sinking sand. Her long, ivory mane wrapping itself around her neck as the wind toyed with it was a sight for sore eyes, but she didn't know it. She knew she was not a rude horse, but never did she acknowledge anything about beauty. She was always sweet and kind, and it matched her bright and happy coat. Her golden body splashed with white fibers toke in the high moon, the craters so perfectly visible on the full moon. She loved the sun and was sad to see it setting once again. The night was friendly too, it had many happy thoughts also. What she longed more for that happiness was to be that of the unicorns. She loved their long lion tails, cleft hooves and majestic looking horns. Was she racist? She was scared, and lost. The mare stopped and looked around now.
Zdravilo was a ruggedly pretty mare, she was gold and white. She was overly feminine looking, and extremely elegant. She had the athletic lines tracing far far back, but she also had the masculine lines far back. She had not one scar tainting her body. Yet, the lack of scars were proof of the lack of battle she has. Her hooves were a light tone of beige. Frosted mane and tail, two-toned eyes, no feathering. Zdravilo was unique and special. Yet something festered in her. She felt it, deep down. It was spreading over her, and had been coming since she arrived here in Helovia. She didn't know where it had come from, but she was fairly certain it wouldn't leave as easily as it had come. It grew inside her like a baby, and she felt it weighing her down. Go away, she willed. Please... Sorrow billowed up inside her alongside the awful restlessness, and it hurt. She hurt all over, and it was this hurt that had sent her on her journey to the shoreline. She'd always loved this place. The sounds of the waves lulled her as the wind braided her hair haphazardly. The feeling was so easily described as racism. A small smile played at her lips, the corners rising to for a soft crescent. The moon watched down on her giving her a sense of security. Zdravilo wanted to think. No, she needed to think. It was clear where this all was headed, and she wasn't sure if she'd be able to stop it.
"blah blah blah."
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