When nature ran wild and free, ponies had only begun to dream, and a different moon roamed these skies. So it might have stayed, had the deer in their pride not turned to Wrath and to Ruin. That time is gone, but its legacy—and its lessons—remain.
I don't have a muse, I have a mule. Early-onset arthritis in both thumbs inspired the handle. If you like pencil art, czech out my DeviantArt page. http://wisdom-thumbs.deviantart.com/