As she looked to the stars this evening, she could not help but think back on her life.
It was a short life compared to most in Novus. She hadn't exactly found equines younger than her yet. Perhaps she was feeling unnaturally old for her age? Like she had lived more than one life, but in reality she only had one life to give. It should make her cautious, especially around those less kind. But she tried to treat all equally.
She tried to treat them kindly.
But ah, back to it. Laying under the starry blanket, she plucked out what she knew to be constellations. There were many that had their own tales to tell. Too many to count tonight as she lay there, wings tucked to her sides and her eyes drooping. As much as she pondered her experiences, Willoughby was growing weary. She longed for the dreams to take her.
But fate had other plans. Hoofsteps made her neck twist, seeing nobody in the vicinity. Yet her eyes were not adjusted to the night yet anyway. She tried to smile to the unknown, trying to make herself welcoming to whoever lurked in the shadows.
“speech”
for sprow's character
