lovebird claim 2

The night was still dead and the car ride silent as she and her uncle returned home. The lavender mare they'd been leading home had eventually broken back off into the forest, whatever whims calling her louder than the hiccups of their truck's engine. And, despite the urge to chase it, to not let another pony slip through her hands, especially twice in one day, she simply let it go. It'd be plain hypocritical to, after she said all of that stuff about letting the pony go and how fate wasn't always there earlier. 

But, letting a pony do what it wants doesn't make the parting any less bitter. It's the right thing to do, she knows that in her heart (if she didn’t,  she was sure to get a telling from her uncle), but getting turn tailed at two whole times today was enough to make the kindest heart twinge with sadness. Just look at the state of her uncle right now.

Said uncle got out of the truck and solemnly wandered toward the back, rummaging through his stuff for something or other. He's probably off to go reflect and contemplate and whatever else he usually does at the middle of the night after disappointment. Failed Teddy encounters weren't uncommon persay, but back to back in a singular day, and both being the fabled lavender? Unheard of. But, she didn't care much what it was he was looking for and she knows he can handle himself perfectly fine, so she's confident in making a straight beeline for their farmhouse. After all, her day had been long enough that all she really needed was a snack and a long night's rest to soothe the ache in her bones. So she meandered into the farmhouse, threw off her jacket to a random direction, and headed  straight for the cabinets. She knows it's bad, a voice chiming in her head about how irresponsible and unhealthy this was, but she was too sluggish and dreary to fix anything with actual nutrients up. Goodness, let anyone forbid she take a cheat day, especially after such a long one at that.

Surely, there'd be a snack worth eating in here. This was a farm, after all: could they really not have anything good to eat?

But, the truth is, when you live with someone as old as uncle, there really aren't snacks

worth searching through the cabinets for. Unless, of course, you were interested in a bag of stale Werther's. She frowned at the barren cabinets and the lack of anything made past the 1900s, making a mental note to sneak some snacks into the cart next time she went to the market with uncle. All he ever brought to their trips were snacks as dry as dirt and that leave a strange residue in her mouth and the produce from their farm; not that she wasn't proud of the latter, but someone can only eat so many fruits before they get sick of it.

Though, there were perks to living on a property like this: the stock of apples. Well, they were half-meant for the horses, but who doesn't like a nice, crisp apple? It's a bit dampened by the fact that it's currently almost 10 PM and fruit is never good this late at night, but she digresses. She was definitely up for that today. She snatched one from the pile on the counter, then another. With how rumbly her stomach had gotten, she'd definitely need two. They really did stay out later than expected; Teddy hunting was always an entire day expenditure however. Ponies are as unpredictable as the weather sometimes.

As she idly munched on the apple, her feet dangling off of the kitchen counter stool, that's when she heard a rap on the window. Soft, as if it had been a mere circumstance of

the midnight breeze. But then there was another, and another. Each time, the sound became rougher. Something intentional, surely. She couldn't help but shiver as her mind swirled with the possibilities of what could be outside the window. But uncle was busy... and she couldn't just let this thing get away with messing with their home.

She tightened her overalls and set one of the apples down, taking a bite of the other as she headed for the back door. When she made her way out to the porch, her gaze swept the yard. There was nothing. Nothing worth noting, at least. Creatures of the night tended to be dark, anyway, so it'd be hard to see with how dim the moonlight was that night.

Another rustle.

Her head snapped toward the sound, legs moving toward it before her better judgement could tell her not to. When she peered over the edge of the porch, a large white blob was settled within the bushes. At first, she gasped. But as she looked closer, she noticed the sharp, short mane and flowing tail of the creature. This wasn't just any animal, it was a pony! The same one they saw on the way home, no less.

"Uncle, she came back!”