A light purple, neatly trimmed mane framed her face, a straight line from one ear to the other demarcating where her fringe ended and her face began. Her eyelashes had so much mascara that it was as though her eyelids were defined by one long, elegant pen stroke each, while the eyelids themselves had a soft purple eyeshadow that matched her mane. Her eyes, however, were dull as a rock, which was odd for a pony. No bright colours, just a very light sea green, the colour of the ocean tide as it clung to the shoreline as the water receded. Also odd for a pony, she was fully clothed in a blue frock from neck to haunch, with a hole for her tail. Handy just sort of blinked at her.