C
I
R
R
U
S

She flew.

And for the first time in a long time, she flew with direction, purpose. She flew with a goal in mind - a desire, a hope.

Golden feathers and cerulean eyes danced in her mind's eye as she let the wind carry her over the lands. She flew without pause, ignoring the thirst that itched her throat and the fatigue that tugged heavily at her wings - she would not, could not, stop, not until she was there, not until she had found him again and then - then what?

The future was unclear - but then, when had it ever been anything else? As her blue, cloudy bodice followed the curves of rivers and streams from far above, she thought at all the possibilities - and actually considered them, used them for her goal.

He had inspired such thoughts in her before, with his strength and magnetism, his heart and kindly gaze, his adventurous yet wholesome nature. They had danced through a storm together, and it had riddled her with guilt, for the danger they had put each other in was regrettable - he was a king, a Czar, beloved by his herd and the land, who was she to lure him away from his duty?

She was Cirrus.

And finally she felt less guilty about her own duty to herself. She would not sacrifice what was good for herself out of fear for what others might think of her - she would not be selfish, but she would hold self-respect (-at least, she would try-).

Time flowed, she felt its tick tick ticking with every breath she took, every beat of her wings and every pound of her heart against her chest. It felt simultaneously like a handful of seconds and several days since she had taken off from the Veins, but she was at her destination - the question now was, would she be allowed to call it that by the locals?

Grass rose up to meet her ready hooves, as she eased into a light canter at the borders of the realm she knew hid within the growth of the forest before her. Though the last time she had been here, green had been the primary colour - now, the starkness of snow had painted the land white and grey, she still knew where she was, even if it was technically hidden.

She had even been over the borders before, as a friend, a comrade, (something more?), but so much had happened since then, so much time, so much death and growth and discovery…

Would he even remember her?

Looking to the feather that hung in her mane, with its golden heart and pale edges, Cirrus prayed that he would, as she encouraged a breeze to come, and carry her scent and gentle song into the lands.