One day Catnip had wandered away from her mother and never found her again. It was an accident, really. The little green filly truly thought that she was only a few yards from her mother, but then a few yards grew with each new beautiful flower she found and . . . well, Beqanna is large. Magic may help them but neither creature possesses the power to find the other, and most magicians in the land would rather eat a small child than help her.
So, the child stumbles. She grows steadier everyday, and the magic she does not know she possesses supplement her diet. She wills herself to live, and so the plants change themselves into the nutrients she needs to be alive. Catnip stumbles and stumbles but everyday she grows steadier, stronger, happier. Happy to be raised by her flowers and her trees and her leaves. They caress her cheeks and sing her to sleep. The tragedy that should define her life, that should make her bitter, only makes her better.
Catnip curls beneath a warm springtime sun to take a nap. The swishing noise of an approaching creature forces her to raise her head, and she blinks bleary yellow eyes at the little girl giddily approaching her. Cat struggles to her hooves and attempts to blink the fog from her gaze, but can only manage a cute, friendly smile.
“Hi,” Catnip replies, peering down at the tiny and deerlike filly before her. “Where did you come from?” The mossy filly can’t help herself—someone as happy as her must know the secret to their existences. Maybe she can go where Dear came from; and as her mother’s memory fades, she wonders if the questions that form in her mind might be answered.
@[dear]