This is why we can't have nice things.

there are no markings on her country roads no signs that show the way back home Like Sheba, Otem was not the only one to be dirtied by the Rift. A strange and hard blue goo had formed on Otem's back. It felt crusty and while it restricted some of her movements (the way dried mud might), it wasn't necessarily painful. Annoying? Yes. Ugly? Most certainly. Otem felt as though everyone must be looking at her, wondering what mess she had gotten herself into. Realistically though, it wasn't that noticeable. Not really. And because the autumn-coloured girl was still a filly, anyone who did notice the blue on her back likely just thought it was the remnants of some childish game. Otem had already tried to wash it off once, but she was back here to try again. The tribrid plunged herself into the waters before she even noticed that she wasn't alone on the shoreline. Slightly embarrassed by the way she had flung her body into the water, the girl straightened and tucked her wings against her back to try and hide the blue stains. "Oh hi."  Otem called, her gold and burgundy eyes scanning the pale mare who seemed to possess a sort of ethereal beauty. On her wither, Pandora looked over Otem's shoulder towards Sheba, hooting her own hello.

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