Dween 14

"An autumn night on the horizon, falling and fighting knights, and smiling princesses."

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An Autumn party this chilly evening at Spring Creek Ranch, the boys were knights and princes, the ladies fine princesses and dancing fairies. The barn had lanterns strung from the roof to the trees, the bonfire burned brightly, and there were friends and family all around. Habit was knighted as the king's horse and given a crown which he wore proudly upon his noble ears, Boone sat on his back with a sword held overhead, making quite the sight in the firelight and bright moon behind. A few lambs caught in the tablecloths ran around as little ghosties crying "baaa" instead of "booo".  Jude happily munched on a crunchy apple, she was dressed as a warhorse, complete with felt armor and paint that made her quite intimidating, although the barrel of apples was more threatened than anything else. Trigger was frolicking with Buck in the pasture nearby, snorts and pawing could be heard across the cutting cold night; they both were much too riled up and young to be near the fire as the calmer horses were allowed. 

Sylvie won best dressed without a doubt, Mrs Annabelle had spent some time sewing her gear for the evening.  A soft saddle set upon her back with stirrups just the right length for young Carlotta to reach, the tassles swaying in the breeze and quivering with every gentle breath Sylvie took. 

Carlotta lay on Sylvie's back, gently rubbing her withers with delicate hands, and playing with the tassles, her brown eyes were alight in the fire and with the voices and laughter of family around, and a warm soft pony to lay on, Carlotta closed her eyes and drifted asleep. Sylvie noticed the child's breath become deeper and noted the hand rest upon her neck, and nickered contently. Sylvie stood happily, taking in all of the harvest celebration, the kids in costumes, the smell of warm apple cider and smoke, the full moon overhead casting shadows, the delightful taste of the oatmeal cookies still in her mouth, and the steady breath of the dear child on her neck.

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Yes, Sylvie was glad to be the princess's pony. Costume for the night, but she believed firmly her princess was royaler than the queen, even in muddy boots and a haphazard braid