Dawn Meadow

Mossbrook trotted into the open grassy field. The sun was shining on her glossy coat. Her icy blue eyes were warm and welcoming for any pegasus to come and talk to her. The mare bent down and ate a mouthful of grass. It crunched in her mouth. She folded her wings as she ate, for the sake of comfort. Her hooves prodded at the ground, unearthing the roots of some grasses. Mossbrook had always liked eating the roots. They always held the water, which made them refreshing when the mare felt to lazy to go to the drink.