Obviously troubled.
Pilar stared at the plain, black mare who appeared before her, her eyes wide with concern. She had not considered that she was troubled, nor that it was so obvious. But if this mare could walk right up to her and announce it as boldly as the way the arrival of the sun announced a new day, Pilar decided that maybe it was true. Perhaps she was troubled. But by what?
“Oh,” she says aloud, her voice light and meager, as another small wave came rolling in over her fetlocks. “Um, okay.”
She pulled her hooves out of the sand and turned to face the other girl, who called herself Silvanus. At least she was offering to help. That was more than many others had ever done, and she didn’t even know her.
“I’m sorry, hi. My name is Pilar.”
She did her best to offer the very nice girl a genuine smile. It was good to be near someone who showed even the least bit of positive interest in her again. She remembered Magnus suddenly and sadness edged at her heart. He was kind to her as well—and they had fun together. At least until she started seeing the other stallion—the one who kept appearing at every turn. She was glad that Silvanus was here and not him.
“Thank you,” she finished. “I could use a friend.”
pilar
Look at this tangle of thorns.
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