When I was walking home with my bag of daisy sandwiches for my brother Lightning, I saw a little gray mare walking alone in the rain.
Everyone seamed to avoid her as if she was a toxin.
I just kept on looking at her as she sat down on a park bench.
The couple on the bench looked over and hurried away and went inside a little cafe.
I felt some envy as for I don't have a special somepony to hold close when in need.
I put down my bag of now drenched sandwiches and slowly made my way over to her.
The burning sensation of eyes on my only pushed me forward.
The way I felt for this mare was unpredictable.
Maybe something ponies call