The Littlest Branch

Bark shivered, his tree muscles creaking. He knew he was near the voodo pony's house, but right now he didn't care right now.  All he cared about was his shame, grief, and staying alive.

He resisted the urge to cry, knowing it would weaken his wood. He was surprised to hear a strange sound he had never heard before, then heard, pony langue, which he surprisly understood. "Mola! Look what I have found here! Where did you come from, my little dear?" Bark gave a crock which sorta sounded like a bark.