ygraine;

This was the grey lady's favorite time of year. Despite being a summer-born foal, she much preferred the bite of autumn's air to anything else. The change in color was also something that fascinated her, keeping a mental record when certain types of trees changed their leaves over not to mention the colors they chose to mix into the fire-colored canvas being painted by the great mother right where they all stood. Back home her herd was no doubt celebrating the harvest in their own way as well, probably dancing and singing songs of their ancestors. But Ygraine remembered distinctly how she celebrated the harvest with her one-eyed mentor.

Thus why she now stood in the middle of an open clearing, the night just barely settled over the land. Sunlight still made the feeble attempt to break through the dark, so she could still see somewhat clearly for now though it would soon disappear. The grulla witch stood before a small circle she'd made with stones, a pile of dried wood and proper kindling gathered in the middle of it. She grasped a few pieces of long grasses from the top of the pile, placing it down on the ground where she struck a dark hoof against one of the stones with enough force to cause a few sparks. It was enough to light the bundle of grass on fire, rather enough to make it smoke and start enough for her to move and start her fire properly. Leaning down, she blew gently until the smoke started to glow and a bit of real fire began to start, to which she grabbed the bundle and threw it into the kindling. Thankfully the air was dry and calm, so it didn't take long before the rest of the circle became sparked and grew into a strong bonfire.

Ygraine threw her head in joy, prancing like some playful filly in her place before she decided to stand there a moment and revel in her accomplishment for a few moments. The grulla mare then began to dance clockwise widely around the fire, her steps rhythmic and calculated while her head moved to and fro with a slow cadence. All the while, staring into the fire she sang the chant she remembered her palomino mentor had taught her long past. Ygraine's heart was filled with happiness during the dance, the reality of samhain coming upon her, fully reveling in the power of the harvest night.

"Fire red, summer's dead
Yet it shall return.
Clear and bright, in the night,
Burn, fire, burn!
Dance the ring, luck to bring,
When the year's a-turning.
Chant the rhyme at Hallows-time,
When the fire's burning.
Fire glow, vision show
Of the heart's desire,
When the spell's chanted well
Of the witching fire."


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