Mjar
Mjar's head snapped away from the horizon to see what horse had shouted through the noise of the waterfall. She spotted not one, but two horses with almost identical dusty tan coats. She could see one had tattered white drawn about their hindquarters. She still had no idea which one had spoken, but she stepped forward to nicker. She could practically feel her mother's ears flipping back at the greeting. The black mare continued forward another few steps before stopping.
She questioningly looked back at her pale mother. The older mare snorted and turned away, rejecting Mjar's request to go talk with a pair a little ways off. Her daughter continued on her route, nickering again at the two. Other horses had tried to approach them before, but never had she spurred herself towards a horse other than her mother. It was an exciting feeling.
Once the young mare reached the two, she slowed to a stop and suddenly realized she had no idea what to say or do. She shifted her weight for a moment before parting her mouth to speak. "Hullo," she said awkwardly. She found herself turning her head to glance back at her pale mother, but stopped herself and shook out her mane instead.
No matter what we breed
We still are made of greedhtml and character by bix |
