The sun beat down upon the creamy mare’s back, her black tattoos winding across her rear absorbing the most heat. Nothing improved her mood more than standing in an open meadow, chewing on luscious green grass and feeling the warmth of the sun upon her. Her eyes closed in euphoria as the sweet grass tempted her tongue and made her stomach quite thankful for the delicacy. Near her home the grass was still a bit on the brown side but she had ventured off and found this lovely little glade, teeming with flowers and grass. Her tail swished in a small breeze that helped to keep her from being uncomfortably warm and sent the fragrance of the flowers gently to her nostrils. Days like this reminded Searlait of why she was so happy to have been born and survived to make it to this particular point. Her brother Arthur would not have taken the time to enjoy a day such as this one; he would have stood guard somewhere, claiming that Searlait could be severely injured if she were too relaxed. Mentally rolling her eyes she pushed the thoughts of her overprotective brother from her mind and went to enjoying the sounds, tastes and sensations around her. Her head lifted when something nearly inaudible reached her ears. Though she found it to be the sound of a flower beating against a tree trunk she found herself gazing at a brightly colored butterfly perched upon a daisy not far from her.
Its beautiful wings raised and lowered slowly, flashing more of the blues and greens adorning the wings. The small insect seemed to be living in the moment without many worries plaguing its thoughts or hopes. In a way, Searlait was like the butterfly, always flying and always living one day at a time rather than from one day to the next. She would like to think she also had the beauty of the butterfly as her mother often stated she did. With a graceful movement the butterfly lifted into the sky, Searlait’s darkly hued irises following behind. Into the blue sky the frail looking thing went, taking off to find the next place to display beauty and grace. With a small smile Searlait lowered her head to the grass beneath her feet once more and again began to graze.
‘All the world is full of beauty and light.’ Someone had once told her, though; she couldn’t seem to remember who. Those words became a mantra Searlait lived by when times grew tough and life seemed as though it were a clock ticking on, each moment passing, a moment one wished would end. These feelings didn’t occur in her all too often but when they did she repeated those words and somehow managed to find beauty and light even in the darkest of situations. Her best friend Wystan was once full of sorrow and couldn’t seem to find light anywhere he went, thought he was good at pretending he could. As they grew together and learned together he began to see more and more reasons why life was such a wondrous experience and one that should be treasured. It was a hope of hers to always be the one with the positive outlook even in the most grim of situations and to help those who were unable to see the light within the darkness. Even so, she knew this was much easier said than done.
