Curious you peep into the large 24" square mahogany box and find that not only are the jarah wood walls quite thin but also within is a minature garden! The ground is turfed in moss, parts shaped into rolling hills while another part is a flat like a pasture. Bonsai trees have been carefully grown in groves and pseudo forests. One part of the garden has an arched trellis with a tiny blossoming wisteria growing across it, peering underneath you can make out a small creature. It's saffron mane stirs with your breath and it looks about for the source of the breeze. Trotting out from beneath the wisteia you see it is a tiny strawberry pink horse! A crenel. She bobs her head and, in a tiny voice, flinging up her head to project the sound as far as she can she calls out "Hullo! I'm K'vea". Grinning sheepishly you reply in kind, pitching your voice low and soft , hoping not to be too loud. What do you think of our new garden?! The old one fell apart. The wood wasn't strong enough so Darkhorse made this one by hand, she's learned a lot since the last one and it's so much better!" K'vea frisks about a little, her white blanket markings shining like cream on strawberry icecream. "There are six of us here now! Me, my sister Q'boa, Z'tuki, E'khi, Y'tonih and R'din who just arrived." There is an emperious whistle and your attention is divided by the appearance of another crenel loping out of the pseudo forest, He skids to a halt beside a grove of bonsai maple trees K'vea rolls her eyes in good humour and returns to the shade of the wisteria trellis. The little stallion rears up, hopping forwards a few paces before bucking violently and dancing across the moss-turf, slewing to a halt beside a carved stone trough containing what appears to be very finely ground oats. He flips his tail and grins up at you cheerfully "Hai O! Could you put a drop of molassus on this for me? It is rather dry. The jar should be just outside the garden box to your left on the shelf.". Looking around the outside of the box you spot a little jam jar of black syrupy stuff that smells slightly of rock salt and strongly of sappy sugar. The lid is ajar and a small very silvery spoon is still in it. Carefully you scoop out a little. Despite twirling the spoon to disconnect the viscous syrup's link with the jar's contents fine gossamer strands still drift down into the garden like spider silk. A third, brightly coloured crenel comes leaping from one of the minature forest glades, catching the molassus strands on her tongue, making a game of trying to catch the longest one without it breaking. Finally she flops down to clean the sticky mess from her forelegs. You watch her out of the corner of your eye as you try to spoon the molasses onto the ground oats while Z'tucki watches expectantly. Tenaciously the stuff clings to the spoon the milled oats sticking to it as you try knock it off. Finally you give up on trying to be tidy and use a fingernail to scrape it off the spoon and into the trough. As you do so yet another crenel strides up, this one carrying a miniscule bucket full of water. She sets it down with a barely audible 'chunk' beside the trough. "Z'tuki! You could have told them to warm the jar in their hands first!" The blue maned mare pipes, rolling her eyes at the stallion after seeing your sticky finger."Like golden syrup it's softer when warm. Just lick it off it won't harm you. Too sweet for my taste, unlike my half brother." She sniffs slightly at the stallion happily sucking on a lump of the sugar soaked oats. He pulls a face in reply, making a muffled noise something like 'Awl memorf fr mne'. Picking up the bucket again E'khi sets it on the corner of the trough and tips the water into another part of the oats, stirring it with a stick until it's all supped into the once dry meal before daintily beginning to eat. To one side of the box is a lake, despite the creators efforts they have been unable to get the water poppies to down to scale. This doesn't seem to bother the little green and brown crenel mare lapping nectar from one of the flowers, yellow pollen dusting her face and fore quarters as she bounces from blossom to blossom, using the lily pads as green stepping stones over the lake. On the far side of the water a purple stallion is exploring around a clump of ferns. When he realises your gaze on him he bounds over a fallen 'log' out into the open and looks up brightly. "Hello!" As he does so you notice his mane and tail are mismatched, He grins cheefully, bobs his head to excuse himself and romps off through the undergrowth to keep exploring, leaving you to return your attention to the larger room you stand in.