The flowers are following her again.

At first Nayati had been in a panic trying to figure out what was happening. Once she’d accepted it was magic, and a rather pretty and harmless one at that, she’d calmed herself. However she didn’t know if she was able to ‘turn it off’ essentially. Not that they bothered her, in fact they lifted her wavering spirits. Every morning she would awaken in a bed of them where they’d collected around her, greeting her every morning with a burst of a million colors. They would cling to her albino-white locks, decorate her banner and even tuck themselves behind her ears, vines trailing down her neck into her hair. Everywhere she went they followed, though she supposed she should stop talking about them as if they were sentient. Nayati didn’t mind them, though she constantly feared stepping on them and crushing them with snowy hooves. Though they were just plants they were symbolic to her, and the path they left in her wake made her feel less alone. If someone knew her well enough they would just have to follow the trail of blossoms she left behind.

Her terrors didn’t stop, and every night was just as hard as the previous one she’d suffered through. Memories lingered, and the scar that ripped its way in black across her hide would never fade. It would be a forever reminder that even before life could taint her, she had been unwanted. Her panic attacks had gotten worse since the incidents with Romani and Abdullah. Even so, with the loss of those two and Svetlana, she had in returned met Insanity- her role model and gruff guardian. Bale-her sweet best friend that she adored. And of course, Resplendence, the mare she found herself clinging to at all times. She secretly had started to blossom feelings of familial love towards her, but was fearful to let them take root. Every time she had started to feel that way, her motherly figures had been ripped away and, in Svetlana’s case, killed. Was she cursed? Doomed to have everyone she loved suffer horrible ends?

Sadness followed her just as the vibrantly colored blossoms did, and she really did not pay attention to where she was wandering. Nayati only looked up when she heard a soft sigh, dark rose-hued irises turning to spot the silver stallion that stood not far from her. Huh, she really had been lost in thought. Suddenly afraid, her spotted crown lowered. When it does she spots the mouse at his hooves and speaks before she can stop herself. ”I-It’s very pretty…” Voice shy and small, calm. Biting the inside of her cheek, reprimanding herself for speaking out of turn. That would have garnered a beating from Mother. But Mother isn’t here anymore, remember? Without movement the flowers bloom around her a bit more prominently, grouping themselves. Nayati stands in their circle, unwilling to leave but just as unwilling to talk.