Meadow

The little girl moves up the beach. Her ears rotate uneasily atop her delicate crown. The new land's scent rushes into her flaring nostrils, she can smell the sweet grasses, the salty air, and lingering scents of other horses. Her hazel eyes travel the length of the beach, only to wander their way back to the path that begins to weave through the trees. She can feel uncertainty rise in her belly, maybe it was best that she abondons this venture and make the swim home. She casts a glance over her white shoulder, uncertainty in her hazel eyes.

Who would I become if I turn back? She thinks quietly to herself. A harsh reminder pops into her head, her father had betrothed her, to a man three times her age. No, she can not return home. A sigh passes between her pink lips. No, this was the path that she was destined to be on. She glances up at the fluffy white clouds floating merrily above her crown. A smile touches her lips as she steps forth once more.

It is only but a few moments from the beach until she steps from the forest that surrounds a wide meadow. Her hazel eyes take in every detail, from the swaying grasses to the milling pairs of horses. Her breath catches in her throat. It was a beautiful meadow. A peculiar sound reaches her delicately curved ears, the sound hide against wood. She searches for the source of the sound and comes across a tawny and white stallion. He itches himself against the tree, apparently he is enjoying the good scratch. Thea can hear his grunts of pleasure, such a peculiar boy.

She dares to step closer. Her hooves quiet on the soft meadow grass. A giggle bursts from her lips. How could she not giggle at the boy who now itches himself on a tree?