Morning always came too soon. The deep darkness of the night had a knack for swallowing her worries and troubles and buried them deep beneath the roots of the many towering trees that lined her path. She felt they were safe there, a treasure tucked away next to the skeleton in the closet, shameful and wonderful and thrilling all at once. Things that should not be spoken of, thoughts best left unsaid, dreams rather forgotten... Habits she just couldn't shake.

Dawn ruined all of that. It took the mystery from the creeping mist and paled the shadows until they became thin and powerless, no longer able to hide the bags beneath burning eyes or the grimaces of pain as the effect of forbidden herbs wore off. Light had a way of highlighting things and making them look worse than they were - like the light tremble of the limbs as a pale fawn picked her way down to the creek, the shudder and wince as soft golden rays reached down to tease eyes that were not yet ready for such brutal treatment.

It would seem Erthë was not the only one awake at ungodly hours like these, however. Rarely did she come across anyone by this creek, but today there was a filly there. Young and alone, snow-touched and color-coated, she seemed as out of sorts as the tired dove felt; tears or perhaps something less vulnerable glinted in wintry eyes; the crowned swan blinked and looked away, choosing not to remark upon this. Embarrassed perhaps, to have noticed in the first place; reluctant too, because she was too tired to listen to the troubles of others.

"Morning" she murmured instead as she hobbled down the brink to dip her own lips in the cold, cold waters, clumsy as always from the weakness of her limbs. They were throbbing today, the crooked left foreleg swollen and painful, a perfect match to the aching joint of the right fetlock - always so sensitive to the change in weather. Would it snow again today? It would certainly better than rain - she could still fly if it was only a little snow.

The thing was, Erthë was not very conversational in the mornings. She would much rather do breakfast and head somewhere to hide away, catch a few restless moments of sleep than converse. Standing next to this kid made her feel unusually awkward, because shouldn't she say something? They were nearly the same age, the girl looked like she'd had a rough night too and... and it really was easier to listen to the woes of others than to deal with her own problems.

"Hey... are you okay?" She asked tentatively, quietly, a glance thrown aside by a pale green eye, lips lingering just by the streaming water. The liquid felt good against her dry, chapped lips - maybe she wouldn't mind staying like this for a while. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to listen.

It was about the only thing she could do for anyone, anyway.

ERTHË

I think of love but let it pass
It       feels       like         fire    
but it won't last