
Bernadette sang to herself as she walked along. She wasn't amazing at singing, but her voice had a certain sweetness to it. She only sang when she was alone. She was shy enough as it was without adding performance into the mix. Sometimes she would sing to birds or deer in the woods, but today she sang only to herself.
It had been raining all the last week. Today it wasn't quite raining. Instead, fog hung heavy in the air. The mist beaded into water on her wings and dampened her mane until the weight of it made her neck sore. Still, she was glad to be out. Winter was coming fast and she knew it wouldn't be long before the ice came and kept her from going on these walks.
Feeling very peaceful, she paused her singing as she reached a stream. She leaned over it and began to drink, enjoying the taste of the crisp cold water.