Whimsical

T’was a quaint day. Boring, and dull and nothing seemed to entertain this cremello filly. Her blue orbs were inquisitive in retrospect to the dull surroundings of the forest. Her Rose tinted nostrils took in the lush fragrance of coniferous trees. Being an over reactive fellow she felt a tickle deep in her nasal passages. Dirt... It crept into her lungs causing a hard and rather vocal sneeze. The rumbling resonated between the trees and drum of wings erupted from a branch above as angry song birds tweeted in distain for her un-lady like gesture. Crossing her eyes she arched her neck trying to focus on the tip of her nose as if trying to see if any residue was left visible for others to see. Whimsical was a rather young and immature filly. Full of adventure and curiosity and obviously without manners.

But do not judge this curious creature for innocence. In her life she simply has not yet been corrupted by the evils of the world. Greed, lust, and envy have yet to appear in her life she was a book open to be written. The story is at the hands of the writer; she could be corrupted or hidden from all evil in hopes to keep that innocence. She could be molded and formed into a slave, into a leader, into another generic creature of the world. She had personality that could be changed, for nothing is written in stone in a book of life. Forever changing forever tainted with lyrics of the writer. Whimsica'sl physical appearance was still unscathed from weathering and age. She carried a dished nose that cradled her ears that curved towards each other. A desert breed (kathiawari) built on endurance and elegance. She lacks pigmentation thus her skin pink, eyes blue, and hide a milky white. The coloring was not particularly rare but neither common. This filly had no special attributes, no horn, no wings, and obviously no specific abilities. Her own ability was her innocence, and pages of life ready to be written, or ready to be torn.

Moments after her uncanny sneeze she carefully moved her dainty frame through the wicker of branches. They grabbed for her main and scratched on the sides of withers while wrapping around her legs. She was searching for a clearing an open space so she could try and be a socialite. Meet a few others and enjoy the company and perhaps give her a plot and reason for her life. So she wasn’t just a waste of a breathe wasting away the oxygen provided from nature around them. Sudden excitement and energy entered her veins picking up the pace to a lofty jog. Her concaved ears swiveled on their axis with alert attention to pick up any unnerving sounds of predation. Continuing her pace she manages to dirty her legs a light brown and the tips of mane mangled in a tassel with dirt. What an awful site she was.

Reaching a small clearing she drifted to a halt. This clearing was created due to a small fire. Dead ashes of a small patch of trees littered the ground. Lowering her nose she sniffed the bark only to let out another unnaturally loud sneeze. Shaking her head in embarrassment whimsical figured this would be the best place to take a break. Saddened by the death she observed the cycle of death first hand. Moving to another tree she saw the first signs of primary growth. Small mosses covered a rock with small rooted grass plants scattering patches of soil. These plants toook advantage of the field as they currently had no competition to fight for sunlight and nutrients. The start of new life. A sign that the world never stops spinning in a non-ending circle of life and death. Whimsical had too much curiosity that this one field could intrigue for hours on end as she observed every crevice. Her awareness around her decreased. No longer worried about the ability to socialize with other companions. She was an easy target to be snuck up on or easy to observe at a distance. But who knows if she would notice an onlooker from afar at this point she was suddenly too entertained with her new finding.