Meadow

Water lapped against her striped hooves as the sand compressed beneath her weight. Water dripped down her face, her mane and forelock soaked and literally dripping. The chill in the air sucked, that was more than certain. Why had she chosen Winter to arrive to the islands? The frosty red mare shuddered, her body tensing before she shook as hard as she could. Attempting to rid herself of the outermost layer of water that clung to her like a second skin. She walked up the beach until the soaked sand turned dry. It was cold, yes, but the dry sand would adhere to the water and absorb some of the moisture off of her body.

The pale sphere hung in the sky, clouds visible with it. The stars were partially hidden from view as the moons rays brushed against the land below. Lighting up what would be a dark night. Midnight, some would call the time. She just called it dark. While she was wet, her frosted red color was darker, but the light from the moon made what white she had almost glow in appearance. Her long legs were splashed with white, far higher than the average horse. Mother had told her that her father had looked as if he’d been dipped in white, up to half his body was dipped. She must’ve gotten it from him. The rest, she looked nearly identical to her mother.

She dropped to her knees once she was far enough in the dry sand. Rolling from one side to another, she rubbed her shoulders and hips into the soft pillowy sand, aiming to cover as much of herself in the dry material as possible. Anything to get rid of the water. She stopped with a heaving sigh, eyes casting wide, as if a thought had popped into her mind, that she may not be alone out here. Oops? She could only imagine how ridiculous she looked right now.

With a huff, she lifted herself up out of the sand, casting a longing glance back at it. She hadn’t realized that while yes, it was winter, but the sun that cast its rays down on the sand during the day had actually warmed it some. So while the sand absorbed moisture from her coat, it also warmed her. Just a bit. Enough that she wasn’t full body shivering.

Trekking from the beach inward her eyes cut across the vast expanse before her. Mama was born in the islands, and had spoken fondly of the home she had grown up in, daughter of requiem and audie, her own mother borne of the islands as well. Camellia hadn’t breathed her first here, but if her cards were right, maybe she’d spend the rest of her days here. The stories she heard may have been romanticized, but she cared not. She wanted to spend her days in the places she heard of in the stories. Oh the stories she heard. Who’d’ve thought our bubbly, sometimes rambly girl was born of a line that began in the islands from a mare who was unable to speak.

Time passed a bit, and the sand that had absorbed some of the water off her hide had begun to dry in patches. It was itching. She shook as hard as she could, sending the dried granules flying off of her. Nose twitched as she dropped her maw to the grass at her feet, grasping a chunk as she stared off in the distance. She was dying to meet someone, but she was far to shy to approach someone on her own. That was not happening.

Camellia

daughter of kamala - 4 - 16.2HH - paint x appaloosa - of nowhere - without heart - red roan pintaloosa (varnish splash)
not all stars belong in the sky, the best ones are hidden with the shells in the sea