Ohhh lookie! A stick! I trot over the ground with what little grace I could muster and nearly stumble over the stick I was on my way to retrieve. At least nobody was around to see that right?

I lean down and pick up the stick between my teeth with a pleased gleam in my pale blue eyes. Sticks were so much fun! And of course seeing me shaking the crap out of one like a dog trying to kill something kept the more boring people away from me. So it was a win win in my book. I savagely shake the stick like a dog trying to kill something, which in my mind I was. The voice in my head needed killing but I had someone try to kill her once when she took over my body and I almost died too. So I don't wanna try that again..I like living. You can't play with sticks if you are dead!

Of course you can't kill me you fool! We are the SAME PERSON. I am merely the more rational less idiotic part of you. You are merely an overgrown foal who still likes to play better than to plot. Maybe that's why you're always given the task of playing with and watching over the young. They know you aren't good for anything else. Now drop that blasted stick and look like you have some sense!

I shake my head wildly, still clutching the stick between my teeth. I was NOT idiotic, I just knew how to have fun unlike Ms Stick in the Mud. Oh! I made a funny! Giggling madly I dash toward the lake that has come into my line of view, my feathered hooves moving with an elegance that mystified some. With a loud splash I plunge into the water belly deep and stand there, shaking my head to and fro with my stick held firmly. I love my stick, I think I'll call it George.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING? We haven't been here five minutes and already you are letting everyone here with enough brains to pay attention that you are a complete buffoon! How are we going to find a home when they think you're a complete and utter lunatic?

The other me who isn't me rants some more but I shake my head vigorously to clear it of her whiny voice. I'd find a home, I always did. Some guys kind of liked my more curvaceous frame and my sense of fun. If they were going to be stuck up "bow down before me" types I didn't want to go home with them anyway. Slowly I step out of the water and let it run in rivulets down my barrel and feathers..before shaking and spraying water everywhere like a very large dog.

The dripping tendrils of my curly mane clung to my neck, my forelock hanging down over my nose as I look at the filly before me with innocent blue eyes. At her words, the other in my head decides it's time to make her presence known again. What a killjoy.

You see? I am not the only one who thinks you are a blithering ninny! You need to let me do the talking to this one, who knows what she's capable of. We aren't at home in the Deserts where we are reasonably safe, thanks to that monstrosity of a thing that acts like a dog.

Shaking my head to flip my forelock back behind my ears, and to clear HER out of it, I turn to the girl with a smile on my lips after having sat George down by my feet. Surely this pretty little thing couldn't be dangerous, even if she is rather dour. I giggle softly and then speak in my lilting voice.

You aren't the first one to tell me that. But keeping my childlike actions helps me to better fit in with the job I enjoy doing. Babysitting the other mare's children while they go off and do whatever it is that mares do. And life's too short to be serious all the time. Having fun is much better! I'm Girr from the Deserts! Who are you?

My feet shuffle beneath my body in a dance of excitement. I LOVED meeting new people, whether they liked me or not. Perhaps I'm just a little soft in the head, or maybe I just like to annoy the more stick in the mud people. Only I know for sure, and I'd never tell. Tilting my head to the side to look at her quizzically, I wait for her reply, a soft smile tugging at my white lips.