Ant carried on weaving through groups of conversing equine, strolling as if she were at the super market. She did her very best to keep her visage bright and cheery, energy tasted awful when they were frightened, at least to the young girl. As Antimony aged, she would find she developed a taste for the fearful, an aquired taste. Similar to how one might feel about consuming beer, the first few times the taste is bitter and repulsive, but eventually it tastes okay.
She picked at them each in turn, lingering a bit longer on the ones that were especially excited or cheerful, always a pleasant smile in return. No one seemed to be entirely interested in the young black filly, though few offered her company. She would politely decline, making excuses on where she needed to be.She had been full a few mares ago, now she was simply gorging, the meadow enticing multiple sources in the summer sun.
She stops, turning, another female had approached her. Actually just walked right up, no one ever did that, ever. Antimony was curious, turning her body around to face the other, older girl. Her turn is met with questions, why didn't she feel like the others, why wasn't she like them? Her shoulders rise and fall, shrugging, "I don't know, what do you mean?" She feigned innocence, telling people made them afraid, things that were afraid tasted nasty. It was then that Antimony tried to take from the older gray girl, she was young still, though resourceful she was greedy. A child's thirst for more, she didn't think of consequences, she merely did things as she pleased. Blue eyes reflecting her naivety, as she smiled sweetly.
