The Filly I Met In the Glade

The pink filly stuck her muzzle close to mine, her hazel coated eyes searching every inch of my sopping face. Darting back and forth, they met mine only last and held my gaze for a long minute. Water rushed in my ears and clung to the soft skin beneath my coat, every second growing colder and colder. A small gust of wind pressed my fur flat so that a shiver ran across me and only then did Cotton Candy waver in her stare.

Her eyes blinked several times and she leaned back. "I don't like you."

An involuntary snort escaped me. I drew myself onto my rump, lifting my sodden, mud-caked wings. She didn't like me? "Well, I don't like you either, foal." Standing up, I gave myself a thorough shake and flicked sand from my ears. "You dropped me into the river."

"And that's why I don't like you." Her bright little body walked around and sat next to me with a huff. "You're not very bright, are you?"

"What?" I rounded on her, wings flared. "I'm twice as smart as a little filly like you." Those fuzzy red brows of hers rose to high heavens and she giggles, leaning back on her haunches.

"Well now, slick, don't let me ruffle your feathers." Her neck craned to peer at the feathers she mentioned and she frowned, glancing from them to my tan coat. One ear twitched. "Why are your wings brown." She reached across and jabbed at my hoof. "Why are your hooves brown too? And your ear." Her eyes lit up and she leapt forward, bounding about. "You have spots!" She made it a point to poke every single one.

I smacked her prodding hoof away from my eye, stamping a hoof. "Knock it off. Beat it, filly." I waved a wing at her, shooing her away. "Scadat!"

"You're not the boss of me." She ducked under me and scooted around to swipe at my tail.

"I'm seventeen. You're only, like, eight. That makes me the boss."

"That only works if you're my older brother." A soft thud sends dust into the air as she flops over onto her side, batting at my tail like a cat with a string. I groaned inwardly and stepped away, swishing it out of her reach. "Which, by the way," she continued, "I don't have." A vibrantly pink tongue poked out of her muzzle.

"I'm bigger and I'm stronger than you are."

Something flashed in the corner of my eye and I turned away, ears perking. Tiny hooves clopped in the dirt around me, drowning out the rushing of the river and the cricking of insects in the brush. "Well then I'm just going to have to figure out another way to get you to leave."

"Oh yeah?" Rustling in a bush caught my attention and I snapped toward it. "How're you gonna do that?" I sniffed cautiously.

"I could hit you really hard in the head with a stick." My response was no more than a simple shrug and a mutter that not even I understood. The sun above us was high and full, unbroken by rain or the fuzzy grey clouds that had begun to swell in the north. With every passing hour, the stormheads grew and crawled across the sky, closer and closer to Oreville. The coming storms spurred wildlife into action. Foxes darted through the trees, always unseen save for their glowing amber eyes. Squirrels scampered up their trees and shoved their treasures into their hideaways, quickly following. A single plump raccoon sauntered down the far side of the river and collected mud for his little hut. Robins and blackbirds settled down with their chicks and huddled in their nests.

Two quick snaps froze every drop in my body. I whipped around,taking in a breath to warn the filly when... -smack-!

Something crashed into the top of my head. I ducked too late and a thin little stick bounced off me and wavered back up into the air, balanced between Cotton Candy's hooves. She stared apathetically up at my bark-strewn mane as I tenderly rubbed my head. "Ow, hey! What was that for?"

"I want you to leave." Our eyes caught. Silence took hold. And she smacked me with the branch again. "Shoo."

"Gimme that!" I snatched the stick away and tossed it to the river. "How rude can you be?" I turned around to see another branch wavering in her hooves. My ears pinned back as she bopped me on the head once more. "No." I took that one too.

"Well, if brute force isn't going to sway you, I'll have to resort to something else." She tapped her chin thoughtfully, scooting away to observe me. Short, heavy sighs escaped me and I stood, stretching.

"You know what, you can have your stupid little river thing. I gotta get home anyway." I looked up to the sky, frowning at the clouds.

Her ears fell at that and she leapt to her hooves, vibrant red hair bouncing. "Wait, you're leaving! But I had so much planned." She followed me to the hole in the brush, dogging at my hooves. "Come on, won't you stay? At least until I get to drive you out."

I stopped abruptly. "Oh no, you hit me on the head." My hoof shot to my forehead and I hissed aloud, biting my lip. "The pain, it's so great." With a snort, I let it fall and flattened myself to fit through the hole. "You can have the river."

Her hooves kicked up the dust and she hopped about, pulling at my legs. "But, but... Won't you come back tomorrow?" She whined. "I like having someone to play with." I wiggled out onto the path and shook needles from my coat, flapping my wings.

"Sorry, kid. Shouldn't have tried so hard to get rid of me." Crimson curls poked out after me. "You're not very bright, are you?" I snorted and took off.

The forest melded around me. The canopy above gently stroked my fur as I passed through it. Leaves clung to my tail, parting gifts as the winds in the glade sighed a farewell. Critters flashed from down below and colorful birds streaked across the sky. But nothing caught my eye more than a bright pink filly standing in that wide, empty glade.