It was very rare to find Snö in a cheerful mood, but today was simply one of those days that ran backwards. The snow daughter was running, cantering, the thuds of her delicate cloven hooves muffled by the thick white snow wet and soft upon the ground. She had woken earlier than usual, when the velvet night was still dark and the horizon only just barely kissed red, the stars thick as a thicket above, almost so that the ebony was obliterated by sparkling, twinkling white. The mare ran for joy, pure and simple, with an extra bounce in her step, the snow falling onto her in a cozy winterland look, and she seemed to fly gracefully, a pale ghost in the red dawn light, weaving between the trees, and of all amazing things today- apart from the first snow of Orangemoon- she laughed.
The cold, unloving mare of frozen hearts laughed, the warm smile upon her face so utterly different from the usual cold haughtiness. It was a miracle, and nothing less of it. If only Snö knew how much more beautiful than normal this wholly different face of her made, than perhaps she would wear it more often, like the child she used to be. As of now, however? Whatever small vestige of warmth from her foalhood was normally gone from her icy eyes and glacial heart.
Snö giggled, slowing to a trot as she glimpsed another form among the trees. For a moment her heart clenched, fearful an adult had seen her chasing snowflakes like a young, carefree filly, before realizing she was looking at the youngest of all in the herd, a little darling girl who went by the name of Sielu- not that she knew it. All she saw was an indigo child with a mane and tail of hazy smoke, sparkling eyes and joy on her face. For now, she had the indistinct form of every foal, slim ribs and body, impossibly long, crazy legs- but there was something precious about her, something important to her. Was it the eyes, of silver and frosted blue? Or the glass horn, dipped in frost? For a moment, her good mood faded as she stared at the horn, the mark of Mauja found in both her and Tamlin with the frost, and then she shook off the thought. No, it was not just Mauja's trademark. After all, d'Artagnan boasted a glass horn and all of his children wore them. Perhaps this little girl was a new child from them.
"I'm Snö- who are you?" The mare asked, coming closer to her with a smile on her face. Cautiously she glanced around, and leaned a little closer. "Do you want to run with me through the snow?"
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