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Diego was dozing. Minding his own business and not getting into trouble at all. For the first time in a long time, one of the herd mares might tease. Head down, wings relaxed, tail flicking idly when a bug got too close. The sun was warm on his back and he was content. Quiet.

Until the mare caught his attention. He watched her approach the edge of the gap, started to call out that she ought to be careful, and then she...jumped. Eyes wide, he watched her make it over the distance and land without stumbling. His ears perked up, his eyes widened and he was smiling before he knew it as he headed toward her.

"Haven't seen anyone jump like that before. That was pretty good!" He looked back toward the gap, then at her again. "No, that was really good."

"Well, I know that," he answered. "I mean, I see that. But that was still a pretty good jump for a mare with no wings." Because she had a point, really. If he'd done it, it wouldn't have been a problem at all. Just spread his wings, hop over the gap and if he'd missed, he could just have given a healthy flap and he'd been on solid ground anyway. Without that sort of backup, good jumper or not, she'd taken a risk.

"I haven't seen a lot of mares who'd try it, anyway," he also pointed out. "Get too scared to try it and talk themselves out of jumping in the first place." But she hadn't hesitated, which made her really interesting.

So he pricked his ears forward and lifted his head and said, "I'm Diego. "

It didn't matter to him that she had no wings, and he meant no insult. He also didn't realize that he'd been offensive, so he went on, blithely ignorant. "Contessa. Nice to meet you too."

He was still impressed by that jump, so he went over to look at the gap, then looked back over his shoulder at her and turned back to face her. "Do you do that often? Jump off ledges and things like that, I mean."

Prancing! Diego could prance too, and did, jogging in place for a few paces, his wings bouncing within him until he stopped. He grinned. "I'd choose to jump too. Less chance of bumping into something or banging your hoof. Jumping's like flying," he told her. "It just doesn't last as long."

She understood. She really understood! "Landing's always the hard part." Especially from the sky. He wasn't going to say that, though. She didn't need to know how many times he'd fallen flat or tumbled over himself when he was first learning how to control his wings and his feet and meeting the earth again.

"Running into puddles, or sliding through them?" he wondered with a grin.

Both. It just got better. "Mud can be just as bad as ice," he told her. "If you hit the wrong spot, or if it's deep. I once slipped into a puddle that went halfway to my knees. If I hadn't had wings, I'm not sure how I would have made it out. Might have disappeared," he went on dramatically.

He'd made her laugh and that made him happy. "Nothing wrong with laughing now and then," he offered cheerfully. "That's different from making fun and it's only making fun that hurts people's feelings, right?"