The Story of Hearth's Warming day
By Dark

On a cold and foggy Frostfall night, horses gathered round a large pine, singing and prancing. When their festivities calmed, they began to tell stories. The young fillies and colts snuggled beside their parents and the horses huddled together. A sleek red mare wandered up, her eyes settled intently on the horses. They all waited for her to speak."I shall be telling the story of how our beloved Hearth's Warming day came to be."Her voice was gentle and soft, the words rolling smoothly off her tongue."There were three kingdoms."She began."The Unicorns, the Pegasi and the Equines. The Pegasi lived among the clouds and always demanded the Equines for items only the Equines could craft. The Unicorns and the Equines lived amongst the earth, and the Unicorns also demanded these items from the Equines."The mare gazed at the horses, her face lit up by the fire the group surrounded."When the three kingdoms began to argue, a great snowstorm came to the land. Food became harsh. All the horses thought the Unicorns were causing the storm, but when they learned they weren't, they suspected that the Pegasi were making the blizzard. The three leaders of the kingdoms went to a counsel to speak. Oliver, the king of Equines trod into the clearing, his olive green eyes showed much frustration."General Kro of the Pegasi flew down and landed, he was also angered. Last but not least, Queen Stelgarth of the Unicorns walked into the clearing in the most fashionable manner. When the meeting began, the three argued. They demanded that one of them must plea guilty, but no one did."The mare grinned, her white eyes scanning the area. Her voice boomed out once more."The three leaders left the council after a tiring match of the blame game and decided they would find new land. They all traveled far and wide, and came here, to Helovia. There they each settled down, only to realize that they had all found the same land. With that they wandered to a cave in the Frozen Arch, and they began arguing once more. After long, the cave entrance was sealed by ice. The three leaders had been accompanied by one of their close friends. The trio of leaders became frozen, their entire bodies covered in ice. The three companions of the leaders huddled together. The companions' bodies began to become blanketed in a sheet of ice."You know?"The Unicorn stallion, Heyo said,"I never really hated you guys."The Equine mare, Sole answered back,"me neither."The young Pegasus, Jay joined in,"I was always kind of fond of you guys."They began to sing carols and share stories. The gods swept the blizzard away, and let the horses return. They did not like how some of the Unicorns remained separate from the others, but they could not force them to join the others, so the gods allowed this and sent one last thing. A grand red stallion with a white mane and tail was sent down every Frostfall to give all the little fillies and colts gifts. He had horns like a reindeer and his laughter brought joy. That's why, young children that everyday you have to make sure your good so the great reindeer-horned stallion will give you gifts! If you're bad, he will leave you with coal and no fun gifts."The mare smiled."And that, my friends is how Hearth's Warming day came to be." The horses stomped their hooves in joy. Then, the most magical thing happened. From a gust of snow, a great red stallion appeared. Reindeer horns were placed atop his head, and he laughed in the most joyous way."How are you, little boys and girls?"He asked. "Who wants presents?"With that the foals gathered round, and the great reindeer-horned stallion brought them their gifts with a flick of his head. The night went on happily after the stallion left. Everyone sang and dance, enjoying themselves and sharing memories.

OOC: Tada! Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and Happy Kwanza everyone!
WC: 671

Cheer of the Ages

The wintry air blew in soft gusts that circled the clearing planting solemn kisses upon the branches of an old pine tree whose limbs had grown heavy with snow and age. The pine needles were no longer bright green and some had browned in the last few years of Forstfall, but that didn’t stop the old tree from growing thick every year. However as he looked across Thistle meadow at all the young pines surrounded by doting horses who threw gathered decorations upon their extended limbs, he grew quite weary. This could be his last Christmas in Helovia and he couldn’t even celebrate with all of the merry faces he once knew. He closed his eyes against another gust of chilling wind and imagined his youth and how he had once worn the very same golden star atop his head every year while the residents of Helovia sang cheery songs at his feet. He smiled and old smile, one that he was sure he would never be able to smile again because this year was different, he was no longer at the center of their bliss, instead he was forced to watch mournfully from the sidelines wishing for one more Christmas to adorn his branches. At this, he closed his eyes for sleep, wondering what another lonely day would bring, though he knew not much.

When the sun peeked above the horizon, he was hesitant to say hello, due to his saddening realization from the night before. But she still smiled back at him with the same hundred-watt beam that daily took his breath away. However, a sudden craccck! caught his attention as a small black filly burst through a patch of grumpy brush. They wiggled and fought her, quite angry that she had waken them from such peaceful slumber. She was a small one, with wide, bright eyes and upon seeing him, she seemed to glow. In her jowls she carried one small wooden star, no doubt crafted by one of her parents. It couldn’t be… the old pine thought. But it was. As the gangly foal gathered herself up off the ground, she began to move daintily in his direction. With the help of the breeze, he extended his branches out, eager to embrace the small filly and even more delighted that she had thought to spend Christmas with such an old tree.

She nuzzled her nose against his pine needles and he watched as she inhaled his earthly scent, all the while she hummed a familiar tune- Silent Night. In his own merry way, he hummed along too and his branches shifted to the slow tempo as the pair sang on in unison. However, after her song was over, the small coal filly bounded off into the forest again without a word. He sagged a bit after her departure and wondered what he had done to make her go, but it wasn’t long before she came charging back. This time, a lone red wine hung from her mouth. This too, appeared to be crafted by someone else because it had been painted with an expert hand (or hoof!). The old tree brightened immediately and showered his needles upon the little filly and she laughed whole heartedly after attempting to string the vine along his lower limbs. After a while of fussing over the vine, she went back to the small wooden star that she had left in the snow and brought it back to his feet. She looked up hopefully and with a determined gleam in her eye, she ran off again.

The pine tree was hesitant this time, though he thought that she would return. However, as the time passed and day was slowly overtaken by dusk, he began to grow lonely once more. He thought of how happy she had been stringing that vine around his toes and he shook with a brilliant laugh while needles fell to the forest floor. He would not blame her if she didn’t return because she had brought an old tree new life. But on the cusp of night, he heard their approach. The little black foal came bounding back through the brush and this time they didn’t mind because she had brought with her a small family of three. A small grey mare and her mate, a big black stallion followed the little foal through the clearing and cast a reddish glow upon the old tree. They had brought more vines, both red and green, a large golden star and magic lights to decorate his branches. The tree was overwhelmed with glee as they set to decorating. When they were done, they stepped back to look upon their work and the pine tree stood tall in the fading light. Merry Christmas he whispered to his new friends. This Christmas was certainly the best by far.

[W/C: 807- Sorry, I needed those last 7 words!]

This Is Christmas to Me

"I've got one," From the shadows, a blue roan paint appeard, "One from long ago, when I was a wee one." The flicker of the fireplace licked the shadows of the femme's face revealing none other than Shyr. A warm grin displayed across her face. "And this is how it goes,

"Long ago, in the arms of a cold Frostfall wind, a mother and her child lay close to a tree. Not just any tree, it was the oldest tree that had not suffered disease or decay. It's insides were hollow and warm. This tree provided shelter from the wind, but there was something about it, something grander than any magic that you or I could ever posses," She leaned close to the Moon Goddess and her child, Mesec, "The mother was sickly and the child knew. She was sad unlike any foal should ever be. Stars hung above their heads. My child, I am so very sick and thirsty, fetch me some water, The mother said. Being the loving daughter that she was, the young foal lovingly nuzzled her mother and set off in search of water.

"After searching for hours, the youngling could not find water. All of the rivers were frozen over solid. She gave up completely, retuning to her mother in shame. Mommy, I have failed you. There is no water running, the child said sadly. That is ok my child, you tried your hardest. Did you know that it is Frostfall? Her mother sympathetically said. The foal was not happy though. With her mom being so sick, there would be no Frostfall joy. So, she fell asleep in depair." Shyr said gravely, shaking her head.

"Little did the filly know, the Gods and Goddesses pitied the child. The child and her sickly mother had no time to prepare for the holiday season because of the illness. So in the wee hours of the mornings, they joined together, the Moon God putting glittering lights on the magic tree that they slept under. The Sun god unthawed the snow and rivers, bringing warmth to Helovia. Everything became brighter and happier. Finally, the Earth God crafted delicate little clay balls and animals to hang on the tree. Now remember, the tree is magical.

"Little animals and birds were drawn to such a beautiful and grand tree. They wanted to make the tree even more beautiful, so the birds joined together to sing songs of the holidays. The squirrels tidied up the tree. The other animals sending word of the great tree. All the Unicorns and Pegasi, Equines and Hybrids all joined together at this tree, crafting delicate gifts for that one filly. Soon all of the joy and happiness started to spread. When the child and her mother woke up, they were exstatic. The magic in the tree grew as their excitement did. The mother was suddenly healed. She would now live a full happy life. The filly was so happy that she now could celebrate.

"The next Frostfall rolls around. All of the animals remembered the act of kindness that they did the previous year. They all decided to join at the great tree again to sing songs and exchange gifts. This time though, a fiery red stallion came around bringing everone a gift each. He had a jolly and kind face, a round stomach, and a pure white mane and tail. Ho, Ho, Ho! Merry Christmas, He would say handing out each gift. From there on out, the stallion donated his treasure to the good horses," With a big smile she added, "And that was how our holiday, Christmas, came to be,"

THE LOVE OF FIRE AND ICE
by Elope

Tor’s steps were silent as she moved through the snow-laden landscape. It seemed as if the Time God had whisked her away, to a time so very far away, in Li’Nal where she had exchanged warm stories to fend off the cold, to push away the eternal chill always ready to settle into your bones and sink into your skin. There were no stories of jolly red horses, or reindeer-horses pulling sleighs of food, no, instead it was stories of family hearth and love.

The story she first recalled was the story of the mare-of-the-ice, a mare with a mane of snow and a coat of ice, eyes of the gray ocean always surging against the rock shores. They said her name was Icinkika, but most had called her Ice. She was known now for her cold heart, a heart locked away in a frozen ribcage, so cold and loveless that the Great Dove had turned her away from the life of death.

And here it goes.

Ice was walking, in her mortal form, she who when you approached her, you would slow and freeze out of cold sliding over you, encasing you, covering you, pouring water into your lungs. With each breath she took, you could hear the rattle of her ice-lungs, and each exhale frost curled into the frigid air. Where her stone feet walked, ice sprung up and the earth froze beneath her. Snowflakes fell in glistening white flakes from her mane and trailed from her trail. Eyes, eyes of emotionless marble, watched as she brought winter to the lands, made Li’Nal a cold kiss on the lips.

Something was following her, and the ice-borne mare knew it, and was in fact curious as to who would dare approach the mare who was despised and even hated. “What is it?” She said, her voice a hiss, a sly thing that curled under your skin and cooled your emotions. You paused, fearful, immediately and intimately knowing this mare is so willing to come and kill you with her frozen heart. But while she is snow, you are fire, and just as water craves to meet fire, you lust after her with your mane of red flame and tail of golden sparks.

So you hope, lower your head and let your red eyes drift over her frosted form, over her ice eyes, and you wonder who she once was, instead of winter. She’s a beauty, clearly, with a faint hint towards Spanish lineage, while you are all lean muscle and Warmblood build with a long lion’s tail and wings night black coated in flickering embers ready to burst into life at any moment.

The stallion approached the mare. Tension crackled in the air between them, but there was no need for worry. Entranced she was, entranced by the stallion who dared to approach her, dared to try and seduce her. Smoke flickers in the tundra air.

It takes not days, not weeks, but years for the passion to return, and the stallion warms her heart, except in the coldest days of winter where he must leave, leave to warm other parts of the world. Her pain is so great her heart chills again, and she walks and breathes cold again, but when he returns, the two are united into a display of passion unlike any seen, that emerges in glowing colors exploding across the sky.

Everyone, in these last days of winter where the heart thaws, rejoices, for the grass springs up green and we thank the stallion for his gift to us, for his love, and in turn, we return our joy to our loved ones and family dear.

This tale was constructed using seven 100-word drabbles. The characters are loosely modeled from two on the site, but are not given names and are therefore open to interpretation. I was given full permission by the owners. <3 Enjoy.

Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths

“Can I have this tree?”

He wakes to the sound of imploring, eyes flicker and blue meets blue. He simmers in the dregs of slumber for a few more seconds, mind fuzzy.

She dips her face into his, asks again, smiles and chirps, a bird trilling in the snowy concaves.

“Can I have this tree?”

He looks at the pine he’s nestled beneath, with its boughs laden with snow, wonders over the peculiarity of this insignificant piece of timber.

“Unless…is it already yours?”

The colt shakes his head, loosens the bewilderment and perplexity from his limbs.

“You may take it.”
*******
He watches as she hums, numbed by winter’s press on his pelt. His mind longs to pepper her with questions, but only manages one.

“Why?”

She twists her head back to him, giggles like he was never there at all.

“I lost mine.”

The filly swings back around to the beloved sapling while his brow furrows in thought. Only the childish whims of his youth prompt him again.

“How do you lose a tree?”

“Oh, I’ve lost many things.” She pauses again, pressing lips together, stare fixating on needles instead of his form.

“What have you lost?”

He says nothing.
*******
“It needs something else.”

She keeps crooning, and so he merely listens, the silent guard in a glade of crystal and glaciers. Stepping back, the filly pivots on ice, laughs again when she nearly slips, indifferent to the haze of danger.

“Hm. What do you think?”

He doesn’t care, truly, but the look in her eyes urges him to reply. He stares at the thing, nestled with different hued baubles, flashing tinsel, elegiac lights. When the molten candor of the sun disappeared, the little tree would glow, fascinating, engrossing and compelling.

He frowns, mutters something under his breath.

“An angel.”
*******
“Yes! Right at the top!”

The grin slides back towards him, light, airy, ethereal; he glances at the ground when it becomes too bright.

“I had one before.”

She nods, then frowns, stitching memories over her youthful face.

But when he looks back up, she’s in his face again, radiant and illuminating. There was too much blue, like the sky or the sea.

“Where could we get another one?”

The colt shrugs, graying shoulders swaying up and down, irked that his suggestion prospered nothing.

“Ah, well. Nevermind then. That snowdrop will do.”

Her maw points towards the ivory flower, waving.
*******
“A flower on a tree, like an early spring blossom!” She’s the petals, gentle and serene, soft and withering.

He ensnares the stem, plucks, and carries it back to her waiting entity.

She places it along the pine’s crown, pretends it’s the finest jewel she’s ever seen, a regal tiara, a festive miracle.

“A seraph of the glade!”

The filly, pirouetting, twirling, giggling, steps back to admire their handiwork. He shuffles in the snow, thinks about evaporating into the abyss. He doesn’t deserve the gleam or glimmer.

Her eyes don’t let him though, alluring and beguiling him to stay.

“Beautiful.”
*******
They watch as dusk captures the timber’s captivating pull; he’d been right, it drew eyes to its finery, ensnaring and bewitching. The ornaments highlight colors never varnished and lacquered before his gaze, his jaw unhinges once, closes rapidly.

She’s entranced, the flickering bulb of luminescence. Before he can slide away into twilight’s arms, her whisper catches his ear.

“Thank you.”

He nods, unsure of what he’s done to deserve the gratitude and blessing.

The next morning, she is gone, a ghost in the wintry splendor and spectrum, and he is left with a glowing tree sparkling in the dawn’s song.
*******
Older, perhaps wiser, he wakes to the sound of a chirp, a trill, a melody stuck in his head.

“Is this your tree?”

He shakes the cobwebs from his mind, the singsong chant that haunts and traps.

“No,” he says to the ground, to the ice built around his form.

“Are you sure?” The wind asks, billowing and twirling, swirling and miming.

He thinks to go back to sleep, laces his lids back down over his eyes, when blue meets blue again.

“Can I have it then?”

He snorts, nods, then watches as she, older, wiser, dances in the snow.

A story of the Moon and the Bird


Did you know that the moon collects snow to use for stardust? When the nights grow darker and the winters colder, she secretly sneaks close and scoops up a handful of snow, then hurries back into the sky before anyone can see that she was there. Again and again, night after night she comes and slips away, so much that when spring comes she is so tired that she barely have the strength to shine.

One winter when there wasn't much snow at all, the moon had to come so close to the ground, that she got stuck in the uppermost branches of a tree. She tried so hard and shone and gleamed, but just couldn't seem to get loose.

After some time had passed, a bird came flying by. Feeling bad for the moon that was stuck, he offered to help her loose if the moon would only grant him one wish in return. After thinking it over for a while she agreed, and asked the bird what he wanted.

"To hide from the ones who want to eat me, both in summer and during winter" the bird replied.

And swish, the moon granted his request and made his feathers brown during summer and purest white during winter.

"Now help me back home" said the moon, and the bird did as he had promised.

He was so happy and proud of his new feathers though, that as he flew up and grabbed the moon with his talons and lifted her away from the tree, he grasped her a bit too hard. The claws broke through her shining surface, and with a scream from pain the moon tore herself loose from the claws of the bird and escaped back into the sky.

As she did, a single drop of blood fell back to earth and landed just above the eye; and from that day onward, the male ptarmigan birds always have a red spot on their otherwise white winter coat.

This is also why the surface of the moon is so uneven; it is the scars left from the talons of the bird.


[Edit: Word Count 353]

ENTRIES CLOSED :: VOTING BEGINS
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Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths

I thought it was a really unique style!

Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths <3

Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths :D

also, my story isn't listed under entrants?

ack sorry chan!

UPDATED TO HERE

Heather'ssss! <3

Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths

Heather's

"The Great Frostfall Miracle"

Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths

Heather :D