In order to be irreplaceable, one must always be different
In her mind, she thinks of Amorette as her sister. She calls her such, loves her as such. In her mind, they are nothing short of blood. Her sister’s shrill call causes Besra’s head to shake side to side, a determined look beginning to grow on her face. The shadowy little girl shoots off like a rocket, but Besra gives her a head start. It’d be plain unfair to overtake her with her mature legs. Just as her black rump begins to fade from view Besra springs into action, leaping like some unearthly graceful deer through the overgrowth of the playground. Amorette is quick, bounding and writhing through tight spots that Besra can no longer fit through, but the blue-haired filly isn’t so easily fooled.
“You better run fast little rascal!” She screams with laughter, gait extending so she can eat up the ground with her long stride. Her little companion shoots ahead, like a rabbit on the chase, and she heads away from Besra, racing towards the edge of a lake. Fear grips the elder filly for a moment, and she races forward, heart pounding in her chest. “Amorette!” She calls out, remembering her promise to keep the little black girl safe.
With a gasp she watches as her herd mate skids to an uncertain halt at the lip of the encroaching water. Besra comes alongside her, nose reaching out to bump Amorette’s shoulder lightly. “Be more careful, mon chéri!” She tsk’s softly, sighing at the little girl’s enthusiasm. Her pale blue eyes peer out across the still surface, and she watches as life teems below. “It is!” She agrees, looking mischievously at the black girl for a moment before her nose snakes out to tap her on the back.
“But now you’re it!” She squeals, leaping away from the girl before racing around the edge of the lake.