The snow that falls so lightly and so beautifully, [almost as beautiful as me, I think so conceitedly] and I prance slightly, so overwhelmed with an inexplicable feeling of joy. I act as a filly, so strangely; and yet I cannot stop the flood of peace that overcomes all my adultery and maturity. All I want to do is enjoy this morning, this evening, everything fallen silent by the flakes of creamy white that drift from heavens above. Even when a rabbit bursts from the underbrush, I do not spook or even attempt to kill it, but laugh at its panic, undisturbed by it.
I do not even blink as something brushes me, not physical but mental, the hands of a child. In wonder I turn my eyes to the small indigo filly, the only source of it, I am sure, for several minutes' walk. Even so, I feel a stab of zealous jealousy. It seems every foal but me has been born with magic, a fact I bitterly resent. Even though my father was blessed as was my mother, I am so resolutely ignored by the gods. They do not even favor me with a chance of power! No, in that regard I lie, for the Earth God had given me a moment to gain my own ice magic, even despite my bluntness and greed with him. I wonder why. No-one does something out of the goodness of their heart.
I shake my head briskly and send the thoughts away, for I do not want to disturb my lovely day. I wonder if Sielu, as she introduces herself, recognizes my emotions, or if she can only communicate hers. No matter! We shall both feed off each other's joy in this morning fair. "Yes child, let's run!" I answer, and so I canter lightly and slowly, keeping pace with her smaller body.
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