When it came to children, Starstuff was a natural. She'd always been a nurturing, loving doe, and a foalhood in the desert where she'd been pampered and fussed over by family and strangers alike had given her a certain view on how parenting should go. One could even go so far as to call her an apt taskmaster when it came to foals-- she was good at redirecting a young kin's attention to more productive ends when it was needed.
Unfortunately for her, however, Nestling was not a foal, no matter how she doted on the ghostly bun as if she'd laid her herself. And sometimes that meant that the portly acha was forced to chase the ghostly little thing down. Bribes, she'd learned, would do nothing, and staying put would simply mean it would take that much longer for her bedding companion to come back for cuddles. No, instead, she had the joy of trotting in the rough direction the ghost had gone, with nary a footprint or broken branch to guide her.
Thankfully, the bun tended to wait for her, acting more or less like a tiny guide to whoever-knew-where... just as long as she had the patience to follow.
