>Apple Bloom just sat there. >It felt like an entirety, yet each moment felt like yesterday. >All at once. >Apple Bloom turned to her thoughts. Those drawings I made yesterday sure were strange. >Apple Bloom was suddenly in the back right behind her family home. >Tucked away in the shadow cast by the barn, she sat on her belly. >A stick in her mouth, she mindlessly drew lines in the dirt. >Though they didn't have any rhyme or reason to them at first, they has taken a rather strange turn. >Poorly drawn fish, walking on their fins, killing each other with spears. >It was something Apple Bloom had first found amusing. >But it dawned her how... weird it was to like it? >She had even tried to draw the gory bits. >Granted it look that gory the way it was primitively rendered, but it was the thought that counts. >For better or worse.
