All was quiet in Ponville. Quiet rain drizzled into the night, bringing on that deep sleep that springs from tranquil surroundings.
Wind whisked through the trees, making them sway languidly, singing a slow, simple song that coaxed even the most troubled pony to sleep that night. Yes, all was well and quiet in Ponville. Roseluck was among those bundled in blankets, sleeping on a pale pink couch beside a large window. But unlike her fellow ponies, she was not yet asleep. Even though the trees' song was loudest in her ears, straining to coax her to sleep, she was among the most troubled. She remembered the words of the last stallion she had sold a bouquet of roses to that evening, "You'd better be careful Miss, I hear there's a murderer here tonight." Then he had left without a word. Rose lay on her window seat, watching the rain pour down. It was Rose's roommate's turn to make supper that night, so
