It was a winter wonderland once again. While Zara had hoped that the winter months were over, that spring's gentle embrace might have touched the kawani lands for good, she found herself sadly mistaken. Thick snowflakes fell from the grey clouds above, covering her back and mane in delicate petals of snow. She didn't like snow or cold, not really, but she could appreciate the gentleness of every snowflakes dance. . . How it spun and spiraled in the sky, drifting along the chilled breezes, only to settle comfortably upon its final resting place. Tree limb, eyelash, muzzle - honestly, all were covered equally and without complaint.
There was something beautiful in such simple elegance; it was enough to cause the vibrant pink and blue maned mare to stop and admire the scene of the open plains. Oh sure, she was very cold and honestly needed to head home or seek out shelter if she intended to keep warm. . . but she couldn't be spurned to do such a thing quite yet. No. . . the call to return to Jaslyn and Baldev had been growing quieter and quieter as the months wore on. Where she had followed them blindly as a foal, as an adult, she couldn't help but feel as if she was destined for something greater.
She wasn't just a pretty face (though she did know she was beautiful). But she felt trapped. . . as if the chains of her father's views and judgments kept her hidden from the world. With nothing but grey and white surrounding her, lately Zara had wondered if perhaps she was nothing more than a ghost. A spot of colour unseen in a world that only knew monochrome .
Her thoughts were heavy, and she tried to ignore them. Too much thinking would only cause her more confusion. . . .
