Bean is like the lone goose swimming up the river. It cranes its head from side to side, in search of the flock but finding nothing. No answering honks to its sad honk here and there. Only Bean probably isn’t as sad as that goose is. But she’s just as lost, and not really all that confused. Guess all that she has in common with that goose is that like it, she is singular and alone.
It’s not much, but it’s something.
Bean can’t say what though, because she doesn’t think she’s missing all that much.
Her eyes trail the goose until it disappears around a bend in the river. Then she’s left with the play of mid-morning light atop the water. It’s bright and harsh, like most light is and that’s okay. Bean smiles all the same, as much tinier rivers run all around her and between her hooves from the snowmelt. Spring breezes - chilled but promising to be warmer - blow about and everything looks like it’ll grow back green and better than before.
Spring is just as magical as Winter is to the brown girl. There are tufts of new grass, infant tree-sprouts, fledgling flowers just beginning to nod the drops of frost-fade from their blossoming heads. Oh it is so very magical indeed! And she enjoys it from her spot next to the river, hoping to see an otter or a duck. Maybe a fish will poke its head above water and wink at her.
That makes Bean chuckle to herself. Then again, she does that a lot - laugh and laugh so much it makes her belly hurt. Always worth it though. Bean smiles and decides to much on some of that newly sprouted spring grass. She figures it’s gotta be tasty enough with all the flavors of winter and revival in it. Munch munch, yum. Crunch crunch, mmmmm.
Oh look, there’s that goose again. Poor dear still hasn’t found it’s flock. Bean tries to honk, but the goose-language is lost on her and it comes out from between grass-stained lips sounding strangled and odd. Hey, she tried. The goose flaps its wings, probably startled by the sound she made but she’ll pretend it was an acknowledgement of some sort, and hurries on by. Leaving Bean on the riverbank stretching her neck out to more delicious grass because she might as well be productive and eat.