A clump of snow fell from the branch it had rested upon and landed with a resounding thump beneath the tree. As if this was the starting shot everything had been waiting for the still silence of the morning was shattered. A round of robins erupted from a nearby bush accompanied by such a raucous cacophony of chirps that a red fox was running from its snowy den. No sooner had the fleeing scavenger been spotted than the whole forest reverberated with a sound like ringing bells; waxwings by the hundreds had perched in the barren trees overnight and seemed determined to decide that if they couldn't have a sleep in, no one should.

Smiling quite despite the deafening tweets, the initial cause of this disturbance kept rubbing her rump against the tree trunk until the persistent itching resided. With a wide yawn and subsequent sigh of drowsy contentment Erthë bowed herself out from beneath the sheltering branches of the spruce, blinking against the brightness of the rising sun and breathing deeply the cold, crisp air.

The world was beautiful, and never more so than on days like this. The heavy snowfall from the previous days had subsided during the night and left the forest blanketed in white, painting the picture of a heart-wrenching fairy tail landscape of sugar and flour. Each tiny crystal reflected the light of the sky in an array of color, from the palest whispers of pink and blue to radiant pinpricks of yellows and amber that stung the eyes; it was dazzling, mind blowing, breathtaking. It was, Erthë suspected, winter's way of apologizing for the sometimes brutal temperatures that came riding upon the nipping winds. Though she personally rarely if ever felt cold she had studied the progression from relief to increased discomfort on the faces of the herd-members, and it had quickly become clear that she was among the few who actually relished the season.

Musing lazily over the varying tastes in regard to season and weather, the filly began to pick her way through the forest, no particular destination in mind though with the course shifting gradually more towards the west. She had an inclination that she ought to return home again soon, that she had been gone for a bit too long this time, but as much as the thought of her father, Tembovu and the many familiar, beloved faces warmed her the girl was also reluctant. It was nice to be out there on her own, to answer to no one but herself and have control over her own time. The time when she was able to romp around freely was growing shorter with each passing day; much like every teenager the young snowdrop was torn between relishing the lack of responsibility and cursing her own powerlessness. Maybe, once she had grown into her full height and had proper hips, the rest of the world would actually listen to what she had to say. Maybe they wouldn't overlook her anymore when the tip of an arrow reached higher than their kneecaps...

But at this thought the girl could only sigh. The Edge seemed to attract nothing but giants lately. Everyone she knew, with the exception of a few of the mares, had an advantage of several hands of height over her, and if she didn't fall into a growth-spurt really soon she was destined to gnaw at elbows for the rest of her life. Times like these the fay missed her mother more than ever. Shadow could have told her how to live with being a midget. The Blackbird could have imparted secrets on how to gain respect in the eyes of giants and men without screaming, and might even have a few ideas on how to further utilize the ivory bow... Maybe. Fact remained, Erthë had never spent enough time with the black pegasus to know what her actual thoughts on a magical weapon would be. Their time together had been too short, cruelly stolen through acts of violence and pointless bravery...

Blowing a silken curl away from her eyes the filly shook her head and re-focused her gaze upon the surrounding landscape. Maybe it really was time to return back home - with thoughts roaming like this she would likely step straight into a bear's cave before even realizing that it was dangerous. Not even an enchanted weapon would save her from carelessness or stupidity.

"Come on girl, time to shape up.." she murmured to herself, lips curving into a grin even as she did so; it delighted her to think how crazy she must look, shuffling this way and that while muttering to herself.

"Talking to yourself? Definitely a sign that you've been out here a tad too long. Home it is then..."

But there was no need to hurry, not yet. Heading west was good enough, wasn't it? South and west, south and west. She would get there eventually.

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Waiting for the rain I'm bracing for the thunder
A twig that wouldn't sway in the wind