life was fine here in paradise…. she could spend hours wandering around the dark jungle, listening to the strange birds, hours standing at her dearest friends side… hours chasing the little filly who she loved as much as she thought she would her own flesh and blood… but there was a certain emptiness to it. pidgeon felt the hollow gnawing lack of purpose as if it were a living breathing demon on her shoulder. things were peaceful, pleasant… and for that the little mare was grateful, but she couldn’t help but feel a prickle of discontent as the seasons passed. it wasn’t a strong sense of adventure that prodded her, though she was an avid explorer… but it was something deeper than the desire to see new places..to wander. sometimes, as she watched fondly over little isla she thought she might know what it was she needed…

her short broad ears twist with each little noise, searching for the sounds she wished to hear… the cacophony of tropical birds is usually like music, entertaining and pleasant, but today it grates on her nerves. she gives a soft huff, emerging from the foliage inland to stare out down the beach. her amber brown eyes appraise it’s occupants eagerly, hoping to find at least one pair of figures that always seem to cheer her up. if there was anything to pull her from her little melancholy it would be the lilt of grier’s voice… or isla coaxing her into some new game or little adventure.

pidgeon puts her discontent to the back of her mind, a soft smile rising to her mottled lips as she steps out into the sand. she whinnies, certain that eventually they, or someone else, would answer her call.