Common

Spring had finally come upon the land and Jaci was eager to get out an explore. So she took to the water, leaving her snow dusted home behind for the day, the wanderlust pumping through her veins, driving her forward with each paddle of her pale, alabaster limbs. A cheerful excitement and an endearing pleasantness seems to fill her with an extra warmth that shields her from the biting cold water of the Inlet. The temperature warms though, the water grow a little more temperate as compared to icy, as baby blues catch sight of the land of the Commons in the distance. Eventually, the salty water turns a bit more shallow and dainty, pale hooves touch upon the sandy bottom of the ocean floor as Jaci begins to walk onto the shore. The smell of saltwater and seaweed clings to her and Jaci has to admit, she likes it. Having grown up on the side of a mountain, there was something fascinating about the ocean and frankly, Jaci could not get enough of all the sights, sounds, and smells that it provided.

With a shake of her bleached, moonlight coat, Jaci disperses a large amount of the water that had been clinging to her. She moves with an awkward grace, her gait was bouncy, yet angelic as she moves along to explore. Pale, dished face turns in the direction where she spots a colorful patch of flowers up ahead, a sure sign that spring has come to the islands. Cerulean hues light up, smiling broadening upon her pink lips. She runs over to the patch of wildflowers, throwing her bleached body into the many different petals. Dirt stains her pristine pelt, and flowers catch into her ivory locks, decorating her hair in shades of pinks, yellows, and purples. When she stands once again, Jaci does not shake the dirt and flowers from her slender bodice, instead preferring to let her body soak up as much spring as she could before she needed to find her way back to the snow covered terrain of her home.

Small, cupped ears tilt forward out of their relaxed position as she spies something else to catch her attention. She is beautiful, dressed in a blue roan color, locks of raven, and ivory socks creeping up her limbs. She looks perhaps around the same age as Jaci, maybe a year or two older, but unlike Jaci, she wears a scowl of anger rather than a smile of contentment and delight. Perhaps, little Jaci could make this stranger a little more pleased with the beauty of spring.

The white Arabian girl with the big, expressive eyes of baby blue move to the blue roan once more in that bouncy yet graceful trot. She throws her head in greeting, smile dancing on her face with a docile nature. “Hello there,” she says, her voice tender and warm, like the sunlight dripping the earth in bright rays. “I’m Jaci, who are you?” She asks, a simple question. She hopes to find out why the girl was angry and what she could do to help.