She’d fallen out of the bush just in front of her. The look in her eyes had been wild and confused. Her fur was all snarled with brambles and fluffed up in fright, and when she’d seen Smith she’d gone white as a ghost.
‘Can I help you, sugarcube?’
‘Twilight Sparkle. What?’ Eyes wide, she’d leaned in, examining Smith’s features so closely that if she’d been a stallion Smith would have swatted her away.
‘You alright?’
The mare had shaken her head, and bolted for town.
Yes, that had been a strange one, thought Smith, and flipped the pancake over.