I am the princess of anarchy, because rules breed rebels, and all rules are meant to be broken someday, and sometimes breaking them isn't even really that hard. Rules are about the ability to control, because if you cannot control someone they will not follow the rules you place down, unless there's a bond of mutual respect. I am the princess that nothing can control, I can find a way around almost anything, I just have my ways, and that's the way it always had been and always will be. They will one day tell stories heralding the rebel princess, tell how she can be known with the eye of solid white violet and the eye of crimson streaked in black lightning, and tell accordingly of all the rules I broke. All of this will come later down the line in years that have yet come to pass, for now it is the time for fun. Times of fun are not always readily available, so it was only natural that I should jump on this one, because I had grown up teaching myself to play, and oh what fun games I had invented! White flakes surely cling to my fur and that doesn't bother me, after all it would eventually melt or be shaken free. Playtime rejuvenates, it makes us more able to stand strong in times of trial. Perhaps I somehow know in the back of my mind that things will happen soon, even if I really need no excuses to engage in one of my old favourite activities.

I am soon joined by another, my eyes bright as I turn them to the stranger. I do not move because I am having too much fun and it seems that she poses no threat, and the snow is an equal plaything to anyone. Surely this stranger would know how to play, or at least snow-play, I haven't ever met someone who didn't. I am delighted when the stranger rolls wildly next to me, and it seems that I do indeed have a playmate. My tail waves through snow, because this is indeed a rare thing, and it causes my lips to twist into a carefree smile. The snowflakes call for everyone to have fun, and it seems that another has joined me in heeding the call.

The crimson eye streaked with black lightning is brighter than it's counterpart eye, as it always does when I'm excited or feeling any strong emotion. I wonder what she thinks of how I mesh in with the snow, or if I am really as pleasing to the eyes as my parents have told me. Sleek midnight black fur that starts to fade on my undersides, so that the hue is of a dark silvery gray instead of midnight black, and the pale scatterings of ashen gray and white around my eyes. The sienna blanket that covers me from ruff to the area just before my flanks, giving me a touch or breath of red perhaps one may say, or if in these lands I'm just anolther face in the crowd. My tail waves as I am pawed at, an invitation to play it seems I have earned, and I stare attentively, ears pricked, and eyes bright.