Francoeur and Sweetie Belle
Her big sister had a really big visitor. He was immense enough to make a full-grown dragon wary. All black and sharp spikes and luminous red eyes…
…and a gentle, almost foal-like way of investigating the world with all four hands.
Sweetie Belle thought she was well-hidden until he offered her a rose and cooed, “…joli petit poney…”
“Oh, don’t be frightened, Sweetie Belle,” Rarity singsonged. “Francoeur is as gentle as a lamb. More gentle than a lamb, really… um. More like… gentler than Fluttershy.”
Sweetie came out of hiding. “That’s possible?”
Three hands started playing with her mane. Francoeur cooed and chittered, but he seemed happy.
Sweetie started humming a little tune that seemed to go with his melody. Which made the monster-sized creature sing along with her.
Words came out of him that she couldn’t understand, but it didn’t matter. They had the music between them. It was all that they needed.
Francoeur never spoke much. He preferred melody. And when he got his hands on a guitar… she could see why. Or rather, hear why.
The guitar spoke more eloquently than he ever could.
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