Night was the scary time. I can’t remember my foalhood clearly, it drifts in and out, but I suppose I was always more anxious at night.It’s strange to think of having the now familiar terrors even as a little filly. I remember crying out for my mother most nights, and begging her to not leave me alone in my room. I was scared to be alone, and there was comfort in her warmth.

I didn’t think it strange to be so needful. My father or sister never mocked me, nor can I recall ever talking about it with them, though they certainly must have heard my cries.

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Giving up with the lazy textures and crap colours, but oh well.  Still putting it out there cause meaningful.