[open] don't let those butterflies out - any

[lilliana]

Lilli isn’t usually timid. She has a ready smile, one that spreads like sunshine. She loves to laugh and is often foolish in the way that young mares can be. But today, today is different. This is a place that she doesn’t know. The land before her is unfamiliar. She hadn’t expected the moment to feel this.. daunting. She wishes for her brave, golden cousin to be beside her – for her to look at Lilli with those amber eyes sparkling and ready, excited to see what would lay beyond them. She can conjure the image so clearly that she can almost see the palomino mare here, wild and bold and beautiful. The dainty ears of the chestnut prick towards the open field below and Lilli shifts uneasily in the shadows, torn between wanting to turn around and to keep moving forward.

Forward is her only choice. She refuses to let the past define her and if she lingers in the shadows of the trees, that is what will happen. The past will entangle her, refuse to let her leave and then keep her there, forgotten, alone, buried in darkness. She hasn’t traveled all this way to look back. She hasn’t sacrificed her family and her heritage to be afraid now. Elena, the crimson girl thinks, light my way now. 

Her form stands still for a moment and then with her prayer said, Lilli tries to summon her cousins bravery. One crimson legs comes out into the sunlight, followed by other and suddenly, the sunlight hits her for a moment, blinding, dazzling, warming her. It hits her pelt in the familiar way it always has, sending the pleasurable feeling up and down her spine. She stops for a moment, lifting her head to get a better view of the scenery around her. It’s funny – it’s just another day here as it is anywhere. There are horses grazing, the birds here sing as sweet as they did in the land she had been born. The wind whispers through the branches, causing the leaves to stir and rustle as they always have. She finds some comfort in this. 

Icy blue eyes look up, watching those same leaves ripple in the breeze. The sunlight breaks through their openings, inviting Lilli to come further into the long, swaying grasses. She can feel them tracing the underneath of her barrel, can feel feel them reach all around her as if they are embracing her. She no longer has her family around her. Another home has come and gone. One future she had even hoped for has gone with it. And as the long grasses brush around her, she can feel some of that pain that she had been harboring drifting away in the sweet sunshine. Her gait becomes freer, easier almost as if she has begun to trust this place. Perhaps trusting this place so soon is a mistake, but this is Lilliana we are speaking of. 

She is a child with a wildflower heart. She is laughter and joy and summer sunshine wrapped up in a crimson pelt. She is a daydreamer and her mind is so often in the clouds that it has been said that she should have been born with wings. This whole thing might have been a mistake. Perhaps this land will offer her nothing more than hardship and trouble. She might even now be sauntering into a mess of her own making. 

But that is Lilli – to her, this place (and this moment) are beautiful. And the most beautiful thing of all to her is that even if this is a mistake, it is entirely hers to make. Her own beautiful disaster.