Meadow

Tali had never felt at home in the hills. Not like her mother did. Zaira was made for the sands and sweltering temperatures. It was evident in the deep dish to her face and her narrow rib cage. Tali was influenced by her draft heritage. Though she was far shorter than her father had been, you could see him in the feathering beginning to show along her ankles and the thick curl of her growing muscle. It was time, she decided, to see the world. After all her little sister had taken much of Zaira's attention from her in the last year and she supposed that just meant she was free to move on. To make something for herself. To chase all the butterflies she wanted.

And that's exactly what she did.

No sooner than Tali had dove from the surf did she take off after a beautiful blue butterfly that flitted across the flowers. Her still-drying coat glistened as she galloped across the flower-dotted meadow. Her laughter was warm and bright, far lighter than it had been in some time. The hills was almost all she could remember but her mother told her of the forest. Of the beautiful butterflies that her father had shown her. There was pain in Zaira's face when she spoke of Rilke and Tali could not help feel a heaviness in her chest when she did.

She chased the butterfly until she felt like her legs might burst and reluctantly slowed, watching as it finally landed upon a nearby flower. With a soft sigh, Tali all but collapsed into the soft grass beneath her feet. She rolled to her side and pulled her legs up against her barrel, staring wistfully at the sky as the sun began to set in the distance. The sky was painted with brilliant pinks and purples and Tali smiled, really smiled, her heart light.