The sudden pressure from my rump was a shock, and I skitter forward uncertainly, my head peeking farther atop the clouds before I swerve my neck nimbly to look back.

She was sleek black, from what I could see with my bi-colored eyes in the clouds. Her figure was nimble, lithe, unlike the form of my own figure which was slowly yet surely becoming more and more bulky as the days passed. Androgens flowed through my body, shaping me into the stallion I would someday become when I had reached my full height. Now, however, I stood upon massively large bronze hooves compared to the stick like legs that jut from them. My flank and shoulders had begun to grow and shape, atonements to my future build. The short little mane of coarse hair grew longer with each passing day, and the ram horns which bedecked my crown were also spiraling, thickening, growing. Soon, I would be a yearling, half way grown up. It was hard to believe by the way my limbs skittered forward in childish fear just moments ago.

I had just had the confidence to travel out on my own without Bear, but now that I was faced with this company, I knew not what to do. My confidence vanished, and my eyes grow deep with worry as I flick my small tail forward toward my rump. Her voice is soothing, and I try to see her eyes behind the streak of crimson in the clouds. "I-it's alright," I gulp down after forcing my words. "I'm not hurt." I step forward, a hesitance stance, almost turning sideways with my wings clamped tight to my side, until I hear the approach of another. My dual colored eyes flash over, seeing the approach of a much more terrifying aspect than a full grown mare - a filly.

She was small, probably born but weeks ago. Her figure was delicate, painted like a slightly golden snow, and my eyes widen at the sight of her. It is not in admiration, but some relative of fear. I was not really afraid of the small girl who comes closer to my shroud in the clouds with this adult, but more frightened of having to speak with her. I did not have mother to hide behind, so I would have to rely upon my own wit to get out of this one. Unfortunately, all at once I do not feel so witty anymore. Instead, I can feel my head feeling light as each determined step of the young girl brings her closer, and I suddenly have the urge to faint. I miss mother. I miss Midas. I miss Cera. I want my family and my friend. I do not want to meet this girl who would likely be about the same as Cirrus, cruel and unusually.

I am trapped, however, between the much larger female of black and red, and the tiny little snowflake of a girl who looks toward me with something mimicking adoration... or maybe I am just delusional and it is really one of torment. I want to scream and cry, but instead I begin to hum. Like a nervous tick, my voice raises from my throat in high pitched tones of a boy, christening the air with the sound of music, a tune that sounded like what I thought would be that of a creek, if I had the ability to recreate the majestic beauty of water's song. At my feet, pebbles on the small path begin to vibrate and then bounce, my voice staying steady but the earth was not.

I did not know it yet, but I was a singer of the Earth.