Sleepy Fox Hollow Could it be a faded rose from days gone by?

sundown stood beside colosseum silently, golden coat catching the muted light as she observed the approaching mare. the chestnut's presence was commanding, her gaze sharp. assessing. she met fancy's eyes with a steady calmness, wordless.

"sundown," she replied simply, voice carrying the lilt of distant plains. she let the name settle between them, ears flicked forward, attentive to the dynamics at play.

she understood the weight of this meeting—the importance of unspoken evaluations being made, of first impressions, but sundown was not much for talk. she did not feel the need to address it further, simply letting her look instead.