Sleepy Fox Hollow hayride

Her eyes widened slightly, moments before her brow fell. She canted her head to one side, so she could turn one dark brown eye toward him and see him fully, searching for any sign that he was being sarcastic. One ear flicked back as his gaze meandered toward her bulging belly, and then back. Blinking once, her expression softened. She lifted her head and nodded once, flexing from her poll so that her neck arched. 

Her head lowered slightly, and she caressed her tongue along the ridges in the roof of her mouth, releasing her jaw when he looked away. A moment later, she bobbed her head in surprise, blinking several times and tilting her head once more so she might see past the long, tangled knots of his forelock. His expression had many volumes, but she had yet to learn how to read them. 

Tell me about the bands you've led before, She suggested. You've got no sub-stallion to swap stories with, She said, with a flick of her tail, a hint of amusement in her voice. So don't bother exaggerating. I know what's real and what's horsefeathers.