No, the mare replied. The light’s only for humans. You may look like a human, but you aren’t. You’re of the People: the folk of claw and fur, wing and scale. “Impossible,” the girl said flatly. “Look at me. I’m pink, my fur’s patchy, I walk on two legs. I’m human, human all over.” On the outside, the pony insisted. Not inside. Inside you’re People.
