A Silver Reflection

The darkness crept across the carpet, but a bright gleam caught my eye. Right near the base of the tall floor lamp, a polished silver coin lay silently on the rug. I marched over, planting my hooves firmly. I bent my neck down until the tip of my horn almost touched the cold metal. Inside the shiny face of the coin, I saw the shimmer of my own mane reflected in tiny sparkles. It felt important, like a tiny shield resting in the dark. I tapped the rim with my front hoof, making it chime faintly against the metal base.