Golden Glade forced into their true shape

The girl lowered herself down, a small whimper emitting from her. Her muzzle stung worse than any other pain; worse than the beach-crabs. Her eyes trailed to her ground by her feet, apologetic and wielding. She slowly moved to roll onto her back; she'd never been in a fight before but she knew that this move meant sorry, I give up and that was usually the end of the conflict.

Her eyes lifted to his for a moment, wide and puppyish for he'd taken all the rage build within her. Her white-tipped banner waved behind her slowly, testing the status of their relationship now, before asking a question, "What is your name?" To the girl, it was simple and innocent enough.