The Fluttershy of Venus

It was Autumn. The leaves were a perfect yellow, like the moon reflecting off of the lake at night. Leaves were falling off of the old trees onto the perfect lake, a tranquil breeze passing by.

It was then I saw Fluttershy.

Perfect as always, standing in a field. A field of fresh roses. Roses as red as a ruby polished by heaven.

She stood there. Her long mane flowed in the breeze. The sun shining on her cream skin.

It was elegance.