"Grandpa! tell us another one of you're stories!" Mintfeather, my grandfilly, I remembered had said to me late one afternoon. It brought me joy to tell them the stories of our herd and the hardships we faced. "please!!!" she begged.
"Alright, Alright." As I answer, Mintfeather's eyes light up and she races off to collect her friends.
By the time all the other foals had sat down to listen, I had already picked a very special story to share.
"This is a story." I hesitate, wondering where to start. Then I remebered how my father had shared the special story to me. "This is a story, That my father had told me when I was your age and his father before that and so on." As I start, some of the yearlings join to listen too.
"my Ancestor, Wintermoon, was a member of a herd no one remembers anymore. This group of pegasi live in the barren icelands and got their name from the bright blue sky."
The foals eyes widened with surprise and curiosity, they're wings fluttered in excitement. The foals had only herd of Star living in the Icelands, but that was only in the spring. These Pegasi lived there for centuries. The Pegasi knew how to live in weather like that.
Finally I said,
"This is the story of Skyherd and it's pegasi..."
I hope to continue this story from here! It should give me the chance to practice my writing skills, especially because I want to become an author when I am older. If I used a name that is already taken, please let me know! 😀