Cashew

Lucille scanned the herd of Teddy Cobs, looking for the palomino she had seen in pictures. As she roamed through the herd, some of the ponies came up to her, but she had her heart fixed on the small palomino gelding she had seen. His name was Cashew, and he was the perfect pony: pure white mane and tail, elegant dapples, thin white belt around his midsection. Feeling a nudge on her back, she turned to see a small black pony, with a striking white tail. He begged for pets, and she ran her fingers through his soft mane.

“Hey bud,” She grinned as he leaned into her touch. “Do you know where Cashew is? Maybe you guys are friends.” As if understanding her words, the black pony bobbed his head. Lucille laughed, and the small gelding walked off, as if leading her. She followed him, because why not? The Teddy climbed over a small ridge, and at the base was a small group of Teddies. One of them was a small palomino… Lucille gasped. It was Cashew!

“So you did understand me!” She said to the black pony, giving his ears an affectionate scratch. He nickered, and trotted down the ridge to his friends. As Lucille trailed behind him, Cashew picked up his elegant head. As the girl got close enough to see his mane, she sighed in relief. No bell ribbons tied in it yet. That meant she had a chance. She began talking to the gelding as she approached, making sure not to spook him. She didn't need to worry about that though; he walked up to her and nudged his velvety muzzle against her hands. She marvelled at the friendly, calm demeanor of these ponies. She was used to her family’s hot headed Arabians, who made you earn their love. Teddies gave their love freely, yet somehow always managed to make you feel special. She grinned as he nuzzled her curly hair, his grass-scented breath warming her cheek. She pulled her bell ribbon from her pocket, and pulled aside a strand of his silky tail to begin braiding it into. He kept himself occupied by snuffling her face, her sweater collar, her boots. She tied off the braid, and gave him a kiss on his pink nose. This was the perfect pony- if only her bell ribbon would stay in until the ponies were brought to the winter stables to be sold.