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The long-legged mare was like a dryad, dancing in the moonlit meadow on light hooves. Her father never told her how he had once tried to dance and failed miserably, but she seemed drawn to this self-expression even more than he had been. It seemed to flow out of her as she paused to rear, forehooves striking out to a rhythm only she heard, though a soft tune floated on the breeze occasionally as the music escaped her. She was completely oblivious to all that was around her, save the level plane of grass and the stars and moon swirling above.

The moonlight was a beautiful thing; not only for its own subtle beauty, but also for the way it emphasized everything else. Every tree, every rock, every blade of grass stood out in stark illumination against the dark shadows they cast behind them, creating a landscape of dreamlike proportions.
Through this, the tall, silent form of Antony was strolling, the bright moonlight throwing into stark contrast the large batlike wings that sprang from his shoulders. His head was lifted slightly towards the sky, allowing the light to pour down his face and cast a bright light on his pale eyes. However, in the course of his walking he paused, hearing the soft thuds of hoofbeats against the meadow. So someone else was out walking, eh? He could do with a bit of company, assuming it wasn't another twit. Shaking his head in dismissal of the thought, he started off towards the hoofbeats.

She spun on a hind hoof, plain red-brown mane and tail flowing darkly against her paler hide in the wash of moonlight as she did. Her forehooves came back to the ground, and she arched her neck, setting off at a trot, only moving at an angle across the meadow grass. She enjoyed the solid sounds of her hooves striking earth precisely.

With this in mind, she paused in place, halting her forward motion, though her hoofbeats kept up the same rhythm, as she listened joyfully to the predictable sound. Her desire satisfied, she broke from her spot and began a rocking canter around the outer edge of the meadow. Her eyes were nearly closed, reveling in her internal song. She knew this meadow well, every rock and uneven place, for she came here often to dance her feelings in private. So far, none had come across her in the process of this diary of motion. It never occured to her that would ever change.

But change it did, and in short order. After a short bit of walking, Antony smiled as the hoofbeats got louder, indicating that he was getting closer to the walker. Just as that thought was crossing his mind, he was stepping out into the meadow, just in time to see the mare...pass by? Pass was probably the best way to put it; he honestly couldn't think of any way to describe the moves she was making, never having seen anyone dance before in his life. One eyebrow arched slightly, but in curiousity more than anything. What was she doing?

Her smooth canter carried her twice around her meadow before she broke the pattern and headed straight up the middle, where she suddenly leapt for the sky, head thrown back and mane streaming. Her hind legs kicked out behind her, and she was flying without wings! She seemed to hover in the air for a breathless moment, before gracefully alighting on the ground again with nary an indication of having been forced to return. Instead, she gathered herself in a few strides and leapt once more, though this time it was without the dramatic pause in mid-air. Upon landing she slowed and rose again on her hind legs, eyes fully closed and face turned to the starry sky. For the space of a dozen heartbeats, she held so still, only the breeze moved her mane in a gentle caress.

Almost too suddenly, all four hooves were on the grass again, and she was snorting and blowing lightly, broken from her own spell by the conclusion of her inner thoughts. Dancing was done for the night, and it left her with an odd mixture of refreshment and comfortable weariness. With a deep breath, she began to graze at a leisurely rate, as if nothing unusual had taken place.