[SE] The eyes don't have it

COLT

I wish words were like little toy guns
No sting, no hurting no one
Just a bang, bang rolling off your tongue

Colt nodded along with the discussion, her eyes dancing from each unicorn to the next, admiring the unique curvature of their horns and the different shades of their coats. It was one of her joys when it came to breeding them; seeing what sort of beautiful creature might emerge as a mixture of its parents, but still uniquely its own individual. It was always a guessing game at first too, the foals coming out with a softer downy set of hair that they shed out in the first few weeks, their truer coat shining through, at times revealing previously hidden secrets. Truthfully she'd keep them all in her stables if she could, whether firecracker or shadow, lazeabout or hardworker, she cherished them each. However she was trying to run a business, and people needed travel mounts or battle mounts.

At Lena's recommendation to spread the hay, Colt moved forward to do as asked. She loosely bundled it in her arms, and carried it to a different section to space out a few more piles. These weren't necessarily herd mates, or friends, sharing this recovery enclosure. It was best to keep resources evenly distributed to avoid unnecessary conflicts. That was just another aspect to Lena's already difficult job — ensuring she balanced their health, safety, and happiness all together while constantly losing and gaining different individuals that could completely upset the balance she'd just crafted. Colt shook her head a bit at the thought, realizing she could not complain about a hard day on her ranch again, not without thinking of the industrious Lena.

"Alright, you told me your favorites, what about your least favorites?" Colt looked up from her work and grinned a bit mischievously.

No smoke, no bullets
No kick from the trigger when you pull it
No pain, no damage done