Life is good.

The young black and purple filly slips through the woods, eyes wide and alight with the wonder of the land around her. It’s a beautiful day out - the winter sun is bright and warm, and the many parrots that call Ischia home are calling out raucously amongst the trees - and she feels safe and light and happy. 

A spot of white in the green catches her eye and she stops, purple head dipping closer to the bushes. It’s a bud, white petals pulled together in a tight circle. The girl smiles, a soft expression that gently curls the corners of her lips, and she reaches forward to brush the bud. Slowly, the petals curl outward, revealing a beautiful white pinwheel flower. “Ahhhh!” She exhales softly, excited by both the beauty of the flower, and by her own skill in revealing it. She’s not very good with her abilities yet - they don’t come too easily to her - but she’s been practicing. This small reveal of the flower is, to her, a sign of her success.

She is distracted from her excitement however, when something cracks in the nearby foliage. Her purple head pops up, curious, but unconcerned (there are no large predators her in Ischia after all). “Mom, is that you?”