lorewren
The desk creaked underneath her as she put her weight on an elbow. The typewriter, on the other hand, remained silent. Ideas flickered through her head, but none of them fit together; she had no idea where to start.
The kit nursed at the bottle, warm in her arms. The little one often whined at any contact, but never with her, and never while being fed. She sang softly and rocked her little one.
The leaves shivered, and so the dapples shifted over her face. I still wonder about her. It's been years since she's been the little girl I needed to save, the one who couldn't do anything, but still...
What if tomorrow's the day I lose her?
"There's nothing wrong with it. There is absolutely _nothing_ wrong with doing what one wants. Especially when it's not hurting anyone. Why would there be?"
_You know,_ a voice in the back of her head whispers, _You wouldn't be so adamant if you didn't doubt.
"Down," she whispered, leaning close to the mare's ear. "You have to trust me."
Peach tossed her mane, but kept all four hooves on the ground.
"Good. Let's try this again."