The world is so still, a kaleidoscope of black and navy blues beneath the twisting tendrils of...what is it? Smoke? Fog? The whiteness breaks to allow a head to pass through; a young white Kimeti laps gently from a stream, seemingly unaware of her surroundings. There is a crackle of branches nearby. She lifts her head suddenly and gives a single snort, which rises in the mist. She turns tail and runs, her hooves pounding the marshland as she flees what may or may not be danger. Her breath simply hovers, a small fog's breath.
