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I feel as though I can soar better now. Better than I could when I came here, better than I could when I crash landed in the meadow of purple flowers. I remember that stormy day, crashing to the ground in a heap of paint mare, I had bent my back ankle, twisting and pulling it in directions I could not even fathom...

I shook the memory as I flew because I had felt myself falter. I was not paying attention, and even that could cost my life while in the sky. I had taught myself these things. Rules, for myself, I guess I could call them. Or maybe lessons for next time.
Yeah. I like that.

Lessons for next time.

I am getting distracted again. Ugh. That's the thing about the sky. You always have to be paying attention. Another rule! I do pay attention now as I spot a covering of clouds in the distance, and wonder what it would feel like if I were to fly right through them...
There is land attached to them. Well, maybe not attached but...I don't know. They just seem to stick to that little corner of land. Correction: floating land. I don't see how this is possible, but I just go with it. Why not? I might just be asleep. This could all be a dream. And if it was a dream, I make a mental note to keep making rules in my head. Once again, why not?

I head for the land, picking my injured back foot higher than normal, and wonder what it would feel like to land. I decided to try and land gracefully, nothing dangerous or daring. Not right now, at least. As the floating land speeds towards me, a feeling of dread washes over me. It all seems really hard all of a sudden, the wave of dread envelops my fears in an embrace of foreboding and....I lock up.
My legs twitch, stiffening. My whole body straightening. It's the fear that causes it. I remember. Always bend my legs when I land...

Always bend my legs when I land!

Graceful as my landing was, I shook my head in disapproval. I had to stop doing that. What if I did not remember? What if I let myself plummet to a jabbing and pulsing death of floating island blood and terror. I toss my head back, attempting to flick my growing mane back, but it keeps falling into my face and I falter as I don't want to fall because I can't really see...
A small light appears into view, and I smile. I can see it through my forelock, and when I continue walking more of them come into view as I walk on. They seemed to be floating in space. I smile, and try again, feeling hopeful as I flip my forelock back once again with the twitch of my crown...

It was a tree. It stood tall and proud, little lights here and there seemingly perched on branches, ready to fly when signaled. I rush forward, but my former slow stride had become something of a hopping fast-walk. My back ankle was not feeling it today. I pull in a deep breath before continuing on, taking my time. And as I near, I see a little shelled creature under the tree. I smile. Hope gathers in the pit of my stomach, twisting and pulling at my gut and in some way, it made me feel good. It sprouted from the base of my mane, my withers, a whirl wind of excitement and joy. This thing was adorable.
And, this tree was beautiful.
Did I mention, it was a tree!? I honestly did not think that trees could be beautiful. But, it turns out that they could.

I lean in, examine the turtle with innocent interest. No mock in my emerald pools as I scan the little thing. I wonder how it got up here in the sky, mind you. But it all didn't seem as important as figuring out if it could talk.

"Hello there!" I exclaim in an exaggerated, exited tone. I lean away from it so that I am not spitting in it's face or yelling. 'Cause that would just be plain rude. I look it over once again, admiring it's shell silently while I await (anxiously) to see if it would reply.

Merry Christmas All! <3