She wonders why the days are always blurry.
Why she can make out shapes without being able to pull them cleanly into focus.
They always flit just outside of her reach, big and dark, but she can never make out exactly what they are. Even if they are decidedly equine, they tend to blur and blend into the background.

Such a stark contrast to how clearly she can see things in the dark.
Everything amplified by the light of the moon, she thinks. Or perhaps she simply feels closer to the night.

But she goes now to the magicians. And, though her heart beats wild, she feigns a kind of calm. She is not afraid of getting the things she wants. Or, at least, this is what she tells herself.

“Hello,” she greets them and she thinks she should smile but she doesn’t. She just blinks up at them and tells them what she’s come for. “I would like for my markings to glow, please,” she says, addressing the magician’s chests. “I don’t see too good during the day and I think it would help.”

She has no real way of knowing if it will really help or not, but she has to try.