It was an excellent game. Step one, find a nice patch of deserted beach without annoying adults to stop her. Check. There was a gathering of sorts over a ways but the stallions seemed quite focused upon one another and the sea to pay her any notice. This was a very decent thing to do, in Erthë's opinion. Step two, let the chill from her body leak out into the already frigid frostfall waters so that a decent chunk of ice developed. That was a bit more challenging, but the filly found that once she figured out how much cold the salty water needed to freeze it was easy enough to form a base, a platform so to speak to work with.

Now, step three was where things got really exciting. Grinning nervously the pale young filly tripped out as far as she dared onto her icy pier and carefully, gently she extended the freeze outward as she made to place a cloven hoof on the steely, graphite-colored water. But rather than plump down into the cold liquid she was able to stand quite steadily; the ice that formed under her feet was thinner, yes, and bobbed up and down with the rocking of the waves - but that was the trick. To keep her balance, maintain the footing and move as far out as she could on the icy path before she a), lost her balance, b), lost concentration or c), was disturbed by something, like a sudden gust of wind or ragged winter-coated old men shouting at her from back on the beach.

Being unable to run, jump and climb like other children her age, Erthë had been forced to come up with other ways to risk her life play. Magic certainly gave her an edge there, and she was not shy about abusing the gift for mindless fun. With her whole body quivering from a mixture of elation and fright Erthë glanced back towards the shore after some time and found that she had come quite far indeed; she was almost in level with the breakers and had to really focus to stay on her feet on the rough waters. Surely, to those still back on the beach it must look like she was walking on the water itself - her little path was pushed beneath the surface by her own weight, dissolving on its own once she moved onward and the frothing waves frequently broke the trail apart even before she had left it.

It was a dangerous game, probably a bit stupid too. Maybe that's why she did it. To dare herself, to prove that she too was strong, fit, capable... The difference was usually that Erthë only felt the need to impress herself, not others, and the potential for a crowd was slightly off-putting. She kept glancing at the gathering on the sand, half hoping, half dreading the call to order she expected to come - because if they told her to come back, wouldn't she be able to challenge herself even further and say no? Deny them, those big, bulky men, force them to worry and angst and care about her presence and absence...

Yeah, it wasn't very pretty, her reasoning. But then again, she never claimed to be sweet natured. Better by far to be interesting!

Erthë

and my knees are shaking - - and my dreams are breaking - - but i know i live today