The fresh smell of adventure seemed to call to Rose in ways other things could not. She was always moving, always going somewhere, doing something—it didn’t matter what, but she couldn’t stand to be stationary for any reasonable amount of time. Rose’s mother had tried in vain to keep her still, silent, and well mannered, but her efforts went unheeded by the creamy minx. Where was the fun in that, anyways? Laughed Rose in her head, internally tsk-ing at her silly mother for even trying to control the young femme’s wildness. As if anyone could tame me. Laughing audibly this time—very audibly—the mare pushed herself faster through the grass on the rolling hills leading to the thick forest below. She loved the feeling of the sun on her back and the wind pushing and whipping her mane and tail out like banners behind her. Her black hooves thundered underneath her, pounding down the dirt beneath. A light sweat was starting to foam up around her neck and hindquarters, but Rose didn’t mind. She was quite athletic for a girl, able to beat most anyone who tried to race her. But for as good as she ran, she had no idea how to fight. Sure, she’d been in scuffles with her siblings, who hasn’t? However, the true art of battle escaped her. She was sure she could learn in given time, but thus far, she’d been unable to find anyone willing to really teach her. They all saw her as a silly, vapid femme—while that was true on the surface, Rose had a wealth of emotions within. She was quite capable of being deeply loving and devoted, but had issues expressing herself seriously. Rose sighed. Maybe that was why she couldn’t seem to form a lasting relationship. She just couldn’t imagine a world where she’d settle down and live a sedate, mundane life. Wasn’t that why she left in the first place? Her mother and father had arranged her to be mated to a knight, quite a lovely stallion, but so serious. He never laughed at Rose’s antics or jokes, he never smiled, he just stood there, stern and silent. He made Rose feel shallow and insignificant, stupid and childish. She’d tried to resign herself to her fate, she tried to make Mich like her. But he didn’t and she couldn’t bear to live with that for the rest of her life, treated like property and suppressed.

At the young age of five, she wasn’t ready to be the quiet demure minx most stallions looked for. So as much as it pained her to leave—it was her home, the only thing she’d ever known, after all—one night after all had fallen asleep, she quickly and quietly slipped away, hidden under the blackness of a new moon. Even her cream coat couldn’t haven been distinguished in the inky night, she was sure of it. Though now it was noon, and she was sure they’d noticed her absence. Surreptitiously Rose glanced behind her, her brown eyes scanning the crest of the hill behind her. No one. Breathing a sigh of relief, she slowed her breakneck pace to a jaunty trot as she entered the dark forest, the place that was destined to be her new home—if she found it satisfactory, that is. Rose was surprised at how very alive this forest was. She could practically feel the world around her breathing, the trees all inhaled and exhaled in harmony, the squirrels twittered to themselves and to their neighbors and scuttled around on the tops of the branches reaching across overhead of the path. Birds chirped among the canopy, flapping in surprise when she came too close. A delighted laugh came from Rose. Already she was in love with the forest and its inhabitants—this surprised her, she never thought she’d like a place so claustrophobic and closed in, being as used to the open plains as she was. She continued onwards down the path, further and further away from the familiar sunshine and horizon lines that she knew so well. This was all part of her life’s adventure, right? Experiencing new things, always searching for the next wonder or thrill. Rose was satisfied with her decision to leave. However, the loneliness hadn’t set in quite yet—Rose was young and inexperienced, she had always had the support of her family and herd around her, keeping her company. How long could she last without a support structure of some type, before the loneliness sets in and wears away at Rose's free spirit?