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Harmon smiled as she sensed a Stallion approaching, by his stench, and his quiet footsteps. She slowly raised her dome. Her large blue pools where stunningly beautiful. Her long curly locks resting upon her shoulder, trailing behind her, and tickling the end of her muzzle. Her lean muscles tensed as she prepared to walk forward. Before she did, she let out a joyful nicker and flashed him a beautiful smile. She took a few steps closer, and when the Stallion began to speak, she listened carefully.
"Why are you out here by yourself? Where is your mother?"
She stifled a small chuckled before her kissers parted in a response.
" Hello. I like to be out sometimes without my mother. I wouldn't want to become sick of her and say something to hurt her feelings. I don't know where she is. Most likely somewhere close by, I can always fetch her quickly!"
She smiled and dipped her dome in his direction. She chuckled a bit more before she spoke again.
" I am Harmony. Who are you? "
She perked her harks. Her face was lit up with a friendly glow. Her blue pools where met with his in a way of respect. Her frame was set in a comfortable position. With her left hind leg cocked. She simply smiled at him, awaiting an answer to her words.
Suddenly, memories of her real mother flashed before her orbs. They glazed over as she relived many of them. Her first talk with her father. It was a short, high tempered, mean, but memorable one. Her first steps. She remembered trying once, her exceptionally long legs trembling beneath her as she pushed her newborn body to rise. After at least an hour trying, she finally coordinated her whole body, making her muscles work as a team to keep her up. Her first taste of the rich luscious grass. Her mother took her out, after it had been one moon since her first steps, to taste the green stuff. Harmony had been gazing at it from their makeshift den for as long as her pools had opened. The first taste had been a delightful one, being able to share it with her mother.
She shrugged the thoughts off, thinking of Antheia. She had no time to look back at the past. It was unchangeable, and one she wished not to look at often. Shaking her dome, she focused on the real world.
walking
thinking, quoting
" talking "
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