it was still dark when she departed the prairie. she left a silent kiss on daphne’s cheek, her heart thudding with a pang of warmth and sadness and excitement all at once. she had always been the softer spoken of the two, rarely speaking at all in fact, but that softness of voice concealed a strength few knew about. she knew her mother sensed it in her and loved her fiercely for it… when petal departed, much like she was about to in the dead of night, she felt wounded… like she had lost a limb. the three had hardly been apart since their birth just two years ago. daphne had clucked and tsk’ed and adamantly voiced her disapproval at their mothers leaving but dahlia resented that. she knew her mother was fighting her own spirit to stay caged in the prairie even if she loved their father… she felt her own spirit waging battle as well. her sister didn’t seem to understand. she was content to stay, to enjoy the knee deep grass of their home and mingle with the other residents of the island. dahlia couldn’t ignore the stirrings in her feet, and her soul, any longer.

the initial vigor with which the small palomino mare cut through the dark water faded quickly. her plan had been to venture to the common island, to seek out her mother, to stretch her wings. her purpose changed rapidly as the sea around her became turbulent. traveling this time of year was increasingly perilous and she had never ventured from luthien before. all of the sudden her only goal became survival. she thrashed against the waves, thrusting her delicately quirked muzzle (which had never slowed her down before) as high above the water as she can manage. she nearly gives up, exhaustion weighing down on her back like an anchor. it is over in an instant though, when luckily her small black hooves make purchase on a rocky shoreline. she ambles a few faltering steps out of the sea lurching with exhaustion, and the last thing she sees before sinking to the ground is the silhouette of a rugged landscape, lit by a slowly dawning sun.