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.
 

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