Maude knew she wasn’t supposed to leave the Edge, especially not without asking, but the lure of spring, and the promise of seeing lots, and lots of glass spikes for the effort, had drawn her out anyway.

Slipping out the gap King Tembovu had told the herd of to the southeast, the maiden follows the sound of birdsong and the whims of her heart out into the world. Sure enough of herself, even without Katua’s company, the only slightly nervous nurse-to-be hums as she trots, occasionally scanning the skies above, and the world around her for danger. Though she had little planned in the event that something horrible did happen didn’t really cross her mind at all, the filly still entrenched in the day-glow glimmer of naivety, and the false promise of tomorrow.

Besides, there were flowers!

She had forgotten how much she loved them in their absence, having been too engulfed in the burning beauty of fall’s foliage, and the glimmer of winter’s hush to really notice they were gone. Seeing them again now, however, was like finding old friends in places you least expected them, and soon, the young tree is following blooms, rather than the glistening spike wall, out into the wild lands surrounding her home.

Only noticing how far she’s wandered when she stumbles upon a pond, the girl looks about her at the sagging willow branches with a wonder as to just how far from home she actually is. The variety of flowers she’s tucked into her mane and tail cast their scent onto the breeze that whispers through, and sends the surface of the pool to rippling, soothing her initial fear at having become lost, as she looks about the rather serene location.

How pretty! She decides, admiring the nearest willow, with its bending trunk, and trailing boughs, rather unlike the trees at home. Sampling some of the leaves from the tree (which are bitter, and not very good), she moves towards the surface of the pond to cleanse her mouth. When she’s finished drinking, she begins to look down at her reflection, admiring the collection of flowers she’s woven into the growing waves of her creamy mane, still softly humming to herself as she mentally amends the second verse of her newest creation.

[ OOC: Open for anyone. :) ]
MaudeHow should we like it if the stars were to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
let the more loving one be me.