Sephine's spindly legs float easily over the spongy forest floor as she flees her sister's wrath. Peals of laughter ring out from her mouth and her small hooves send pine needles scattering as she haphazardly pushes through the low hanging evergreen branches. She can hear the thuds they make when they strike Arkana's chest, but the weanling tells herself the older filly deserves it. After all, she'd ditched Sephine to go visit the Prairie - again.
A mischievous smile curves her dark lips as she spots a thicker branch. This time, instead of simply brushing roughly past it, she grips it in her tiny mouth and takes a few steps before releasing it. Turning to run, she giggles again as Arkana squeals her name in anger. The painted filly suspects she's gone too far, however, when she realizes she is no longer being pursued.

Sephine backtracks at a cautious jog, her short mane bouncing in rhythm with her gait. She is apprehensive of the retaliation she might face - just in case, she keeps her head hung a little lower than normal in apology.

What has stopped Arkana, however, turns out to have nothing to do with Sephine. Peering out from the branches, she sees an unfamiliar form. Her sister's exclamation must have masked the dark filly's cry. Excitement courses through her at the idea of meeting someone new. Sephine inhales deeply, her nostrils flaring to catch the scent the small filly brings. Prairie. Her curiosity intensifies, and she can hold it in no longer.

Prancing forward, the black and white girl brushes past Arkana to stretch her muzzle in greeting. After exchanging a few short puffs of air with the other, she steps back and sizes the filly up. They are likely around the same age, but the newcomer is much smaller than Sephine. She's never seen a horse with this coloring - a dark stripe down her back and a pleasant slate gray color to her body. What she notices most, though, is that this filly's mane is much fuller than the sparse mohawk along her own neck. She suppresses an urge to reach out and touch it. Instead, she shuffles restlessly as she waits for a response to Arkana's query of the girl, before blurting out, "How'd you get your mane so nice and fluffy? It looks so soft! Mine is so...thin." She turns her head to eye her crest with a frown, rotating her body somewhat to further illustrate to this filly what she means.