From the calm of my resting spot by a tree, I hear a faint thud. Very faint. If there was even the slightest sound of a glistening butterfly landing, the thud would have been nothing. But now, in my silence and peace, I realize that another living thing could be moving toward me. I shake my white, frost-covered wings, and the frost dives down like my father did in war, one moment flying, the next, a meteor heading for the rocky ground. Of course, how should I know, with my only memory of him being...nothing?

Ahh, see, now, you must be interested. As an orphan pegisus, I was a nasty little filly. Oh yes, only when I was tamed my another of my kind was I not my usual unruly self. Now, I rise, and go out to greet the femme who seems the definition of quiet. When my lead-black eyes meet her, I gasp at the beauty. But, of course, this is mostly because of, yet again, a parent of mine. My mother, in the way they described her, was about the prettiest it could get. But shy. And it still troubles me to think how I, being the only offspring of Willow and Friction, could have so easily been effected by her disposition. I move foward. Ugh. I do daydream, as she did, and, oh yes- Thump. I run smack into a tree that somehow dissapeared in the midst of my thoughts. And that is just the kind of thing that happens every single day.

I greet her. "Hello. You seem troubled. Are you ok?" I am not my usual negative self around uncomfortable, innocent mares. Stallions, now they are a different story. I show no mercy for the selfish brutes that some young femmes go all googly-eyed over. I also show no mercy for the femmes. It's their fault. Oh well. Too bad. I examine the beauty that makes up this soft and quiet mare. My dark eyes imediately go to her soft ones. I always check the eyes first. If they show whites with fear, or nervousness, then you are on your own. All I see is that beautiful bright color. Trustworthy.

"I can help you, if you like, although I have nowhere to go, but I can offer a remedy to the loneliness of traveling alone. It would be a lie to say I have ever stayed with a soul for long, or to say that I enjoyed leaving them, but if you have no liking for stallions, you will be safe with me." I allow my soft self to come in, although my guard is still up. You never know when a seemingly innocent soul may attack out of pure rage for their past, usually the kind I tend to run into. With the way things go for me, although this femme seems ok, she will probably spear me with her horn to say the least.

Oh, the joys of being me.


OOC: Oh, its fine. I don't know how you would rate my writing either.