You're so cold but you feel alive

It was the sort of windy, restless day where everything seemed to be moving. From the rattling of barren branches and egging sound of rushing water beneath lingering piles of snow to the hustle and bustle amidst canopies and shrubs by small animals, everything in the Edge seemed determined to let go of the lethargy left behind by winter and get some business done.

Well it was just too bad that she had no business! Being a yearling sucked; Erthë was no longer so young that she could truly enjoy the solitary games with sticks and stones and sleep-drunk raccoons she had played as a foal, but nor was she old enough to truly devote herself to the every-day management of the herds. Wherever she went to help she was met by the same kind but absent smiles and the same infuriating comments of "Not now, dear, this is a bit too heavy for you".

Pah! Heavy! Like she wasn't just as strong, just as smart and capable as them! If given the chance Erthë was fairly sure she would be able to run the World's Edge pretty much on her own, like, how hard could it be? But would they give her a chance? No. She was 'too young', and 'inexperienced'.

It was so unfair.

As much as she would have liked to however she was in much too good a mood to settle in a corner and sulk. Restless feet carried her on and off amidst the winding paths of the vast forest, bored of the scenery now that the sun had burned away the last of the morning mist yet reluctant all the same to leave the herdland. The encounter with Rikyn was still fresh in her mind and while she wouldn't call it hiding to stay at home when he might be prowling the wilds, it was pretty much what she was doing.

Eventually, by happenstance or subconscious choice or perhaps the magic of some benevolent spirit showing mercy upon the poor girl, Erthë emerged into one of the larger clearings of the forest, and spotted a familiar figure. She had grown so much lately that it was eerie, legs and neck and butt shooting off until there was hardly a trace left of the wet, spindly creature Erthë had seen be born what seemed like yesterday... But there was no mistaking that red coat and ivory markings, and it was with some relief she went up to join the filly.

At last, someone to be bored together with!

"d'Arcy, let's do something" she moaned upon approach, foregoing greetings that was, on the whole, very unnecessary when addressing someone you lived with and saw nearly every day.

"I'm bored to death, so entertain me, please!"

With an appropriately dramatic expression as though she might faint if nothing happened right away (and preferably a whole minute ago) the pale filly threw herself onto the ground by the feet of the ruby duchess, in half a mind to roll and grind the cold, sticky mud interspersed with strands of year old grass into the pristine coat just for the pleasure of making a mess; but she changed her mind halfway through and remained sprawled out on her back with wings splayed out on each side and the legs sprouting ridiculously at odd angles.

She couldn't be bothered to be elegant and refined today. What was the point, when no one paid attention to what she was doing anyway?