Part of her feels that she no longer belongs here. It has been months, maybe longer, since she last felt the breeze kiss her skin and the sun wrap her in its eternal warmth. A smile lingers on her lips as her muzzle lifts to the sky to savor these moments. This is her home and yet it's like a long-lost lover that she has just found again. Her breath vibrates as she hums pleasantly to herself before opening her deep brown eyes.
The meadow.
When she sees the spring grass kneeling to the wind's strength it brings back memories of her siblings, of her parents, of Trystane. She misses them but even as they fog her vision she still does not try to find them. Maybe one day their paths will cross again. If that does happen maybe she won't be quite so ashamed of herself; hopefully life will have blessed her in some way by then. Cerva doesn't have the ambition to be a Queen like the rest of her family. While her siblings and parents have flourished Cerva has kept to herself and adapted to a life not typically seen fit for a once-princess.
Solitude. Withdrawal. She's a figment of memories now. No one likely remembers her or her family. They wouldn't care to because she is nothing valuable anymore. Her mane has grown unruly with leaves and flowers strewn in her locks. The shine of her eyes has dimmed during her time of seclusion. Deep down she knows who she is - who she will forever be - but she has never been one to live up to her name or the reputation of her family. She is simply Cerva.
Cerva