Cassiopeia

Birdsong; it was if its very essence wafted on the breeze. The Oracle could almost feel its slender fingers as it swept the long tassels of her mane. It seemed to exude a dulcet fragrance: that of cacti flowers and palm trees undulating in the soft tug of the wind. It nurtured life, and occasionally Cassiopeia would catch a glimpse of one of its delicate works of art, swaying gently in the breeze. Spawned forth from the desolate sands was a marvelous bouquet of vegetation. It was not like the conventional bouquet, however - they were scarce, but each flower's ivory plumes were magnificent amongst the unobtrusive desert landscape.

Flowers were far from abundant throughout the rolling dunes of sand, and yet that's what made them so beautiful in their delicate, eye-seizing splendor - like a glimmer of hope in a vast sea of mundanity. The sun was a great, incandescent disk strung from the clouds, its illumine soft and temperature as each ray weaved through the dilute labyrinth of the mist arisen from the lake. Its warm lips united passionately the earth and the sky, and the delicate cobweb it draped across the world gave light to the day's youth. The Oracle's hooves clicked softly against the russet stone of the Oasis. Azulee was still sleeping, safe under the watchful eye of her elder sister. What had drawn her here, she couldn't say for certain. She was simply walking, admiring the beauty of her home. Walking always cleared her mind.

It had been a month or so since her meeting here with the young Rowan, a refreshingly intelligent young mare who had seemed burdened by the weight of her own mind. She wondered how her friend was doing now, if her words had bred solace within her heart.

As she neared the lake, a figure caught her attention. A mare, by the looks of it - an assumption farther validated by the fragrance which wafted unto her. She stood shorter than Cassiopeia, if only by a few inches. Her physique was one of pristine white, a hue unbroken along the entirety of her pale canvas save for the azure which constellated her face. Her mane cascaded down from the curvature of neck like a shower of ivory tendrils. Cassiopeia nickered softly to her before lowering her head to graze. "Good morning," she said. "The weather is lovely, don't you think?" She raised her head then, peering toward the other mare with a cordial expression. "I am Cassiopeia, the Diviner of these lands."