The sight of the winged child instantly uplifts my spirits, and I find that my slender chocolate legs have changed pace to match her own. The feathers around my neck clack together with each bounce of my shoulders, and my thick mane is whipped back from my sweaty nape in the breeze that our trot has created.

"Greetings, child. I am just wandering. Want-ed to meet all leaders of these lands; you have leader, yes? I am most interested in meet-ing him." My hetero-chromatic eyes latch onto her own unmatched eyes, and I am delighted to see that the members of this herd are as diverse as any other. The gene that has caused my eyes to appear this way is very rare in my own land, and so I am glad to see that there are others like me. Her face -- half painted white, half painted champagne -- seems to have been pieced together by two separate equines, and I find that I am wanting to get to know her better with each beat of my pumping heart.

The curiosity that she directs towards me seems to be fueling my own, and I can't help but say, "You are a jewel, lit-tle one." My tongue is swollen from a parched throat, causing my accent to come out even thicker.

"What int-rests you? What path of life do you want to take?" I throw my gaze around at the scenery, taking in the tall green plants scattered around the golden horizon, the scarce few rocks that dot the landscape, and all of the sand that has been brought together here. Suddenly I wonder if this girl would like to come with me -- I have been yearning for the company of one who shares my vision to offer our services to all, regardless of their race -- and I wonder if the filly has ever thought about leaving her beloved home. "Do you wish to remain here with the sand, child? Or do you dream of a greener landscape?" My eyes reach deep into her own, trying to show her the comfort and serenity that wandering the many lands can offer you.

My attempts to convey a message that speaks of freedom and liberty and passion are cut short when I turn to face a golden stallion. He appears to be a tender man, and one that I trust as soon as his words reach my ears. The Dragon's Throat. So this is where I am.

Dark lips part in greeting and I bow my head slightly, letting the stallion know that I respect his authority and that I am conscious of my intrusion. He does not appear weary of my presence in his lands, but I find it within me to let him know that I do not wish to step on his hooves; my words are courteous when I say, "And to you, Senor. I hope that I was not walking where I should not be, but thank you for meeting with us."

I gesture to the smaller pegasus with my dark nose, causing the feathers around my neck to clack together with the movement. "Do you all have wings here?" I do not realize that my question is as blunt as it is rude; my curiosity had gotten the best of me and my inability to convey my thoughts into words made me sound like a child. But, also like a child, I am ignorant to the emotion that my innocent question might have caused.

Walk walk walk.

"Talk talk talk".