Miette
Sunlight bursts blindingly from behind the shoulders of towering mountains to the east, and eyes, fearless and true, behold the blazing golden face that smiles down upon them; the beam is contagious (and even as she sleeps), a smile still brighter ignites through that infant, innocent expression. As though born from the very sun itself, myriads of flapping, flailing butterflies appear. They descend in unison around her and she leaps, frolics through their dazzling, rainbow midst - pink, white, yellow, blue, green (even the not so likeable black) - powdery, dainty insects which dance and flutter through the air like a living rainbow.
Miette is enraptured. As she plays (flints fidget and flick in the the grass), a friendly pulse resonates constantly, reassuringly, the steady rhythm that feeds a spritely pattern of impressionable steps. At first, the frivolous foal seems hardly to notice; one ear tilts backwards, but the babe seems oblivious. The sound strengthens, suddenly, drumming an ominous warning through a clouding atmosphere as a colder wind rises to harry her bliss…
It is the thunder of hooves in motion.
Pallid lashes part in an instant, revealing the waking gleam of clean, icy blue within and the threads of curiosity pull her smooth round cheek swiftly from the cushy pillow of sun-kissed grass. Shade has immersed her, just as she'd dreamed; feathers - long and light - are swept like a guardian curtain around the tiny bubble of her existence, and for a brief second, she is stunned, confused. The earth beneath her body vibrates a few moments longer, ceasing as the beat of movement slows somewhere beyond (ahead?); quivering, learning nostrils lift towards that obscuring, glowing ivory veil, panting soft, hot breath against the thin stick-centre of one quill. Ears, pricked and forward-leaning, listen intently for any sound that might betray a situation unfolding, anything – but alas, aside from the shrill song of a nearby thrush, there is naught a murmur to be found.
A sharp, quite dissatisfied snort is ejected.
The taller frame of Ma stands like an obnoxious wall in the way of excitement (behind her lies the same old vast nothing…), and twiggy, clumsy limbs unfurl in a hurry, driving forward that sniffing, rosy nose, right up through the awning - that obstruction. She is bold, brave in the shadow of protection!
There is a green, grassy slope in the distance and she notes Da standing on flatter, foreground, with another horse!
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@Nora
