[claim] wooly little man

They pitched their tent in the wildflower meadow that night. The sun had finally gone down, and the last streaks of light coloured the sky vibrant hues of pink and purple. Sun Yee hung the lit camping lamp from one of the branches overhead, glad that the the circle of light bright enough to illuminate their site while they assembled tent poles. He'd been victim of one too many camp setups in the dark.

 

The pony, much to Li's delight, stayed nearby. Now and then, it moved forward to nose at their gear, the little bells braided into his mane jingling with every insistent push of his muzzle against their backpacks and sleeping bags. She had to run to rescue one of the bedrolls when a particularly forceful push sent it tumbling down the gentle slope they'd made camp at the top of, and was relieved when it caught on a bush about halfway down.

 

They had a simple meal of sausage sandwiches, cooking the links over a portable gas stove and toasting the bread in the sausage fat left in the pan. Li pulled a bag of marshmallows from her pack and they finished the evening with s'mores, fending the pony off from the rest of the bag as it stepped into the flickering light like a wooly, snuffling thief. 

 

She insisted on sleeping with the tent flap unzipped, fantasizing about waking up with the gelding curled between the two of them in the morning. Sun Yee put his foot down - there was no way he was letting the pony have any access to the tent during the night - but agreed that the fly cover could stay off of the tent, allowing them to see through the mesh door to the world outside.

 

It was hours before either of them could get any sleep. Every time Sun Yee began to drift off, Li's excited voice would whisper another fact or hope or passing thought about the rose grey gelding outside their tent. The occasional jingle of the bells only seemed to set her spouting off more often, and though he was thrilled his daughter had had the chance to braid the ribbon into the gelding's mane, he wished the little pony would wander slightly farther off during the night so they could get a couple hours' rest before dawn.

 

He regretted his wish in the morning, when the pair emerged from the tent and the pony was nowhere to be seen. A pit formed in his stomach; despite rationally knowing the pony had likely just wandered off to rejoin its herd or have a drink of water, it felt like a bad sign. He cracked a few jokes as they packed up the camp, hoping to keep the tears out of Li's eyes. Fingers crossed for another sighting.