Gadha, a spirited donkey with a vivid imagination, strutted confidently through the meadow. He held his head high, mimicking the grand posture of a horse, and let out a loud neigh. The sound echoed through the meadow, startling nearby birds into flight.

"Ah, Gadha, you sound quite different today," Bakri chuckled, watching him with amusement. "I am a horse, dear Bakri," Gadha replied, his voice filled with conviction.

"A horse, you say? But why then do you shy away from riders?" Bakri inquired, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Gadha paused, the question catching him off guard. He lowered his head slightly, pondering the goat's words.

"Perhaps, in pretending, you overlook the beauty of being yourself," Bakri suggested softly. Gadha considered this, the truth resonating within him. His ears twitched as he realized the simplicity and wisdom in her words.

"Perhaps you're right, Bakri," Gadha admitted, a smile spreading across his face. "I am Gadha, and that's enough."

Bakri nodded approvingly, her laughter mingling with the night sounds. "You are indeed unique, and that is something to cherish," she encouraged. Gadha trotted alongside Bakri, no longer trying to be something he was not, but embracing the joy of simply being himself.