It has been quiet here of late, she has been quiet. The little pony stands amongst the dunes, scanning her desert homeland. She anticipates that soon she'll be heading to the field, to boost their flagging numbers. If a Queen won't help her kingdom, then who will exactly? This must be what her mother, so long ago, had spoken of - the highs and the lows of ruling a kingdom, the exhilarations and the disappointments. In reality, her heart yearns to go elsewhere.
As a warm gust of air blusters back her mane and sweeps her forelock from her eyes, her mind wanders to the white expanses of the Tundra. Her sides quiver in anticipation of a white stallion, somewhere in the snowdrifts, hopefully waiting for her to show up. Yet, she will never be his, not whilst she is theirs. And that Pevensie promised to be, the day she took the crown and the day she agreed to hold it - a daughter of the Desert, reborn here and made Queen. Her home, where she chose to raise her family. That, all these years on, means more than her old childhood dreams.
She smiles, casting her honey gaze over the kingdom, filled with pride tinged with sorrow. As she often does, she promises herself she'll do better. For the moment, that's all she can do.
Replies tomorrow, but muse asked for this. Someone go cheer her up!