Meadow

Finally, the overo mare felt like herself again. It had taken most of her willpower to wait until Drogon was old enough to survive a few days without her before rocketing off to the Common grounds, but it was proving well worth the wait. Through constant travel along the paths of Paradise, Vanya had returned her sleek figure to it's natural svelte shape.

The elegant line of her neck attached to an appropriately trim figure, accentuated by the velvet black of her limbs. The depth of the vegetation in her home was very often a curse, but it did prevent the sun's rays from bleaching her coat.

Consciously aware of how good she looked, and in quite the mood to flaunt it, Vanya danced across the open span of the Meadow with her head held high. Wind tossed the silken strands of her mane and tail as she moved, accentuating the grace that she had practiced for many hours as a young filly.

A part of her was sad that Drogon was not a daughter, but she was also equally grateful that she was not. The dark-colored colt was independent and adventurous, which allowed her to gradually shirk the majority of her parenting duties as he grew older. She longed for the day that he would no longer look to her for his sustenance and hungered for when it was a lover's touch that lingered on her hide rather than that of a needy child.

Which is not to say she didn't love the demon spawn. She was fiercely proud of the little brat, if only because he was hers.

Pushing aside thoughts of her only child, Vanya centered herself beneath a lone tree that afforded her the shade of its boughs while also giving her a clear view of her surroundings. As much as the thought of a handsome man sweeping in to take advantage of her excited her, she couldn't afford to be too willing. Vanya had learned her lesson in being too hasty to choose a paramour after being stood up by Drogon's sire.