She’s not entirely certain when she had made the decision to come here. She only knows it had been building in her chest, a slow and sullen ache that seemed to expand and grow every time she watched Ellie and Mom and Dad launch into the sky. It didn’t matter that Ellie was only just learning and was slow and wearied quickly still. She could still fly.

And then the triplets had come, all with little wings and bright-eyed eagerness. That’s when the bubble had burst as true despair filled her chest (though young as she is, her definition of despair is undoubtedly far different than the average definition).

So she had found herself at the base of the Mountain, eyeing the trail with a terrifying mixture of hope and trepidation. The climb had not been easy, stones skittering beneath her hooves as steep drop-offs taunted her around hair-pin bends. But she does not allow fear to rule her, and eventually, she makes it to the top. Sweaty and tired and covered in dust, but she makes it.

It doesn’t take long for her to begin shivering as a stiff, cold breeze begins to dry the sweat on her skin, but she clenches her teeth against the chatter and steps forward, hope filling her narrow breast. After a moment, she begins to speak, silently praying the fairies would understand her plight. Praying they would even deign to listen.

“I am here to ask… if you might be kind enough to grant me wings.” She pauses, inhaling a deep and unsteady breath as her sea-green eyes lift beseechingly to the sky. “I don’t know why but, Mom, Dad, my sisters, my brothers - they all have wings and I don’t.” Tears fill her eyes, but she swiftly blinks them back, refusing to let them fall. “I hold them back. I know they don’t want to leave me behind, but… because I can’t fly, sometimes I feel like a giant rock holding us all down. I just want to be able to go with them.”