Hoshor Plains cowboy like me

Yearlings.

She'd had three colts- and from enduring all the tests they put her through, she had learned patience- and that sometimes, it was just better to let them be silly and learn from their own mistakes rather than to try and guide them the whole way. 

Her first son had been the easiest; demure and kind, he'd never really put up much of a fuss or caused many problems with the other foals in the herd. Even his sire seemed to tolerate him, for a time. But when her second came around, she learned the flip side of the coin. He'd been an udder-biting, cow-kicking little rebel, who was as stubborn as a wild ass. Her third had been even worse- especially when he started looking up to his brother. 

Mallow was, for the most part, as fillies were- a bit more cautious, with a notion of sensibility. She never wandered too far, though Fancy constantly kept an eye on her regardless when she moved off on her own. Even wandering up a hill on her own could leave her vulnerable to whatever was on the other side- fortunately, Fancy had seen Maplesmoke wander that way earlier, so she felt the filly was protected. 

She lifted her head and chewed the mouthful of dry grass as she watched the filly's adventure unfold, hardly flinching as she landed hard on her belly and spun down the icy crust on her way down the hill. She came to a stop, and grimaced with pain. "Ahhhhh, colt's teeth," She swore softly under her breath. She meandered over toward the filly- not concerned about any immediate health risks, but she felt the filly was due some attention, at least. She sighed heavily. "Well- I give you about a seven out of ten, for style. Was it at least worth it?" She asked, flicking her ears forward.