10-28-2015, 12:58 PM
The wind is colder than I had expected, and the snow is deeper. Though I had told my parents that I was ready to be on my own, I find that I am regretting my choice with each passing moment. The sky overheard is grey and ominous, promising to add even more snow to the while blanket that covers the Meadow. I tuck my wings even more tightly against my body from my landing and they shield my thin hide from the biting wind with the white feathers.
I am used to warmth and sunshine, to the lapping of turquoise water on gold sand beaches – this place is so far from that.
The journey here had not been long, but with only the words of Mother and Father to guide me across the wide ocean I had gotten lost several times. There were islands to rest on, to sleep and drink and eat before flying again, but it has been months since I have seen the face of another horse.
The first one I see is a dark stallion, and I call out a soft “Hello!”
At first I think that he doesn’t hear me, but then he turns and I whicker a greeting to assure him that I am the one that had called out. I step through the snow carefully, lifting each feathered leg and placing it carefully before moving the others. It is an odd way to walk, but I think it is better than falling face first into the snow.
As I approach, it becomes clear that he’s taller than I am (at least for now), with gold streaks in his mane and tail that remind me of Father. I’m gold as well, but only a natural shade of palomino, with my mother’s plethora of spots. “Hello!” I say again, my voice as bright as my smile, “Do you live here? I’m Jhene, and I’ve just gotten here. Is it always this cold here?”
I am used to warmth and sunshine, to the lapping of turquoise water on gold sand beaches – this place is so far from that.
The journey here had not been long, but with only the words of Mother and Father to guide me across the wide ocean I had gotten lost several times. There were islands to rest on, to sleep and drink and eat before flying again, but it has been months since I have seen the face of another horse.
The first one I see is a dark stallion, and I call out a soft “Hello!”
At first I think that he doesn’t hear me, but then he turns and I whicker a greeting to assure him that I am the one that had called out. I step through the snow carefully, lifting each feathered leg and placing it carefully before moving the others. It is an odd way to walk, but I think it is better than falling face first into the snow.
As I approach, it becomes clear that he’s taller than I am (at least for now), with gold streaks in his mane and tail that remind me of Father. I’m gold as well, but only a natural shade of palomino, with my mother’s plethora of spots. “Hello!” I say again, my voice as bright as my smile, “Do you live here? I’m Jhene, and I’ve just gotten here. Is it always this cold here?”