That day

<sub>It had been hours since slipping away from her caregivers, the pony thought. She didn't care. They all treated her like a monster anyway. It was the box, that battered, beaten box that had fallen from the dumpster of that gorgeous boutique that she had her attention on. Already peaking inside, and shutting it again to keep the contents from getting wet, she had already decided to take it home.

They were perfect, "Why didn't anyone show me these!?" Oh right, because nobody likes her. She wipes her tears off on a distraught hoof and picks up the dirty cardboard in her mouth.

So many styles in one little box. Curls, updos, colors! And she could make more! Yes, it was a perfect night. For that grown mare, had finally discovered what she could do for a living.</sub>

And then she opened a wig shop.
Lineart and coloring practice, cutie mark subject to change, blah blah blah.

I'm thinking of making an ask blog for this pony. Thoughts?