There is a soft trickling, running sound. Tiny, dark ears perk, and he looks upward. Where? Where was that noise coming from? Hooves tread softly, cool breeze blowing fur. It is late. The sun is going down, almost gone. The tiny feet follow the sound, lead by upright ears. A pond fed by a tiny rivulet of water, ripples and tiny droplets. Something catches a bright young eye. A white sparkle. A strange shimmer. He turns, trying to see the reflection's source. The moon, bright and full in the sky. He turns back, smiling and watching the water, the little shimmer in twilight.
