Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one pony, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Slightly altered from Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken“
I loved that poem since reading it the first time in English class, and in my opinion the topic of one’s destiny is obvious when you read the whole thing. Scootaloo just felt right for this, although she might not have arrived at the fork in her way yet — or did she already make her choice?
Today’s Artist Training Grounds topic was “Draw a pony facing their destiny/Draw a pony on ‘the date’.“