Isn't that the tales of beetle bard?

i am 16 now. dont remember much about that day but what i do remember is a knife to the heart. sitting in a tree, i played with the chain round my neck. it had one of my fathers feathers, his only white one. i turned it over in my hoof thinking about that day... a flash of deep purple. i saw it andlooked around but noone was there. "strange," i thought. "its almost like it came from the feather..." i imagened it. there was no other explanation, because that purple was my dads eye. or a reflection of it anyway. if anything was certain, i would never see those eyes again. or so i thought...

oooohhh this is good stuff. write a book and tell more. liked

thx! i did write a book and im uploading more with each picture