”Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do!” Princess Frost was not pleased. Tiny sculpted lobes perked backwards in annoyance with the grey wench standing before her, magenta optics displaying every bit the agitation that rang clear through her sharp words. As she stood there and jutted out her jaw, defiance in her entire posture, the golden child was every parent’s nightmare. There was no love lost between the two of them; mother and daughter could hardly be any more estranged, their natures couldn’t be further apart. One mild, gentle, caring – the other being Eris, as she was turning out to be the exact opposite of all these things.
The spring sun was mild and warm; the breeze spoke of summer and light filtered down through the canopy of leaves in an intricate pattern. The sunrays kissed her gilded skin, a faint glow about her, but in her eyes was not a trace of the angelic impression she gave. She didn’t need this. A harsh snort was emitted through tiny nostrils, followed by an impatient shuffling of wings. “He is my father. I’m going to see him, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Voice dropped from high-pitched outrage to calm, mocking spite, accompanied by the cocking of an eyebrow. The golden child had no use for this mare anymore - now weaned, she was more than ready to sever all ties to this creature and her damn forest. Eris longed for the open skies, but most of all she longed to be with someone who understood her. Someone that could teach her the mechanics of those tangerine-tipped wings on her back; someone that was not just a simple equine.
The image of her father started to take up more space in the filla’s mind - or rather, the glorified version of what she thought he might look like. In her mind’s eye, she would travel to his desert and find him to be the handsomest, fiercest stallion in all of Helovia – Eris would live with him as a Bedouin princess, and of course there was no doubt in her mind that Ares would travel along with her. The thought painted a small smile on her velvet maw, but the ice in her gaze remained the same as she regarded her dam and felt nothing but disgust.
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