Mint Blossom

Six years had passed since that dark night. Cherry Blossom had tried desperately to locate Mint Blossom's parents, but to no avail. The little foal had grown into a strong, intelligent filly that asked many questions, so many that Cherry often had to sit down with a cup of chamomile tea in her parlor, a part of her home that she had rarely ever used, and answer as many of them as she possibly could in one sitting. On a bright, sunny, cheerful Monday, Cherry heard a knock on her door. "I'll get it!" Mint called excitedly. She raced through the house, her little white wings spread out at her sides.

"Minty, how many times do I have to tell you? No wings in the house!" Cherry called, irritated. Mint stopped at the door, let out a sigh of disappointment, then folded her wings in to her body. Her mint mane quivered with excitement as she opened the door.