I'm so mad at Deviantart its so fricken hard to submit anything. It’s difficult enough that the stupid scanner doesn't work, but now the stupid description that I had for my friend’s very belated birthday is in the wrong file or some shit like that.
So, without further adieu, I give you,
Francesca. (Yeah, sorry about he shitty name but hey they kinda pick themselves you know?)

She is a small cream colored horse, with a white shooting star reaching to her pink nose, and matching socks. Her long braided mane has been dyed so many times it is now a deep pink. She’s very cynical and considers her self a realist, although she’s probably more among the lines of a pessimist. She’s a bit of a work horse, and she takes things very seriously, but is very kind, and would do anything to help. Poor thing all she really needs is a few laughs and to relax.
She was accidentally abandoned by a traveling circus, at the human equivalent of thirteen.
The tragic story is as follows,
“The air smelled new and alive, mostly of fresh springy grass and the small golden buttercups that dotted the landscapes. Butterflies lazily fluttered from flower top to flower top, birds shrieked and shrilled from their perches, and small woodland animals felt it fit to happily poke their noses in the sweet smelling mud.
Then a gypsy circus plowed through.
The air smelled of smoke and sweat. The grass was flattened, the butterflies, birds, and cute little fuzzy creatures fled for their lives. Pots banged together, wheels and caravans creaked, animals bleated and moaned and barked, people shouted to each other at the animals, at the impassive blue sky, and a foal with a feather sticking from her mane like a droopy unicorn horn dropped a shoe.
She was a preteen and so of course retrieving that shoe became a matter not so different then life or death. When the complete circus rested in a field of serene beauty, Francesca took the opportunity to slip away from her mother’s side and go back for the bit of semi circular metal.
She found it further away then she thought it would be, she picked it up in her mouth and then cantered back to the field on her toothpick legs.
They had already left.
‘No problem’ she had thought, ‘I’ll just follow them.’
She never caught up.”
The End, not really, um, I hope you like her. Maybe you can decide how the two meet.