My thoughts are the cold kind,
I've got storm clouds brewing behind my eyes
The light that filtered down through the canopy of leaves was tinted in green and gold. A gentle breath of wind invited curtains of foliage to sway to and fro, and in the borderland between water and earth the reeds danced a graceful waltz in tune to the chirping of birds. The air was balmy even in the shade, the day one of those breezy and clear ones that lingered in ones memory long after the season had passed. A perfect moment that left an ache in the chest, because you knew it to be transient, ephemeral - destined to fade and disappear.
Petals sailed on the surface of the pond, weathering sudden changes in the pacing of the waves as Erthë waded through the water. It was cold, some might even call it freezing but to her it was merely soothing. A creature made from ice and snow and frosty winter nights displaced to a springtime wonderland, she already felt the effects of the warmer weather, measured by fatigue, sweat and foul tempers. The dry weather might agree with her old injuries for they ached less, but that was only one small benefit within a hailstorm of misery.
Swimming helped, at least. When she lay submerged beneath the surface all the troubles of the world grew distant, faded and blurred like the distorting sound. Other things grew in focus instead - the sound of her own heartbeat, the murmur of cold blood flowing through icy veins and the churn of water all around her. Lapping waves, distant birdsong, all of that composed a melody that was as soothing as it was refreshing. Only once the seething irritation and testy moods had faded did the filly resurface, and by the time she picked her way back up on land the sun was already high in the sky.
Glittering cascades of water scattered in high arcs as she shook out her hair and wings. Still dripping, Erthë bowed her head into the lush grasses and began to graze, the picture of youthful serenity. A step, a tug on the grasses, the flick of a graceful tail to swat away the first gnats of the season, and the trees drew mottled patterns of shadow and light upon her gleaming back.
It was spring, the world was at peace and for once, so too was she.
Erthë
And my heart will be blacker than your eyes
when I'm through with you
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