Trust a witch (GLASSHEART)

[Sunday]

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Sunday makes her way from the meadow and her pleasant conversation to the Forest, a land she hasn't visited before. It's not unheard of - Sunday, while being a social creature, has been too long away from Beqanna. While much changed, much remained the same. She abandons her long line of flower blossoming in the meadow and instead stops to smell each and every flower or bloom in the Forest. She loves the way the creeper vines fall just so - this part of the forest reminds her of her home in the Amazons. She lets a loaded sigh pass her lips at the memory of the kingdom that now probably resided under water.

But Sunday, forever an optimist, reminds herself that all change leads to greater things. While she misses the sisterhood and the quiet calm of the jungle she knows it was probably for a greater good. Who is she, but an ant, to say it was not?

The forest's calm quiet gives way to a small clearing and she pauses here, noting another horse just at the edge of the clearing. She lets out a low, soft noise of hello to introduce herself. Sunday is always a social being.

"Hello there!" she greets, her smile wide. "I'm Sunday, who are you?"

SUNDAY

never put your faith in a prince. when you require a miracle, trust in a witch