<link href='https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Calligraffitti|Architects Daughter|Bellefair' rel='stylesheet'><style> .Wennycontain {position:relative;width:450px;background-color:#E6E5E9;border-radius:30px 30px 5px 5px;box-shadow:0px 0px 3px white;} .Wennyimg {position:relative;width:450px;border-radius:30px 30px 0px 0px;} .Wennygrad {position:relative;z-index:2;width:450px;height:50px;top:-146px;background: -moz-linear-gradient(top, rgba(230,229,233,0) 0%, rgba(230,229,233,1) 100%);background: -ms-linear-gradient(top, rgba(230,229,233,0) 0%, rgba(230,229,233,1) 100%); background: -webkit-linear-gradient(top, rgba(230,229,233,0) 0%,rgba(230,229,233,1) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to bottom, rgba(230,229,233,0) 0%,rgba(230,229,233,1) 100%);} .Wennyname {position:relative;z-index:3;top:-150px;left:100px;font-family:Calligraffitti;font-size:34pt;color:#f6d9d5;text-shadow:2px 1px 1px #f7d0cb;} .Wennyquote {position:relative;z-index:3;top:-110px;font-family:'Architects Daughter';font-size:13pt;color:#c8a490;text-shadow:1px 1px 1px #e1c3c7;text-align:center;} .Wennytext {position:relative;margin-top:-140px;padding-bottom:15px;width:410px;font-family:Bellefair;font-size:10.5pt;letter-spacing:0.7pt;color:#8a444e;}
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<center><div class="Wennycontain"><img class="Wennyimg" src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ea/37/69/ea3769a9996075ca9173f6b7facc065a.jpg"><div class="Wennyname">Eurwen</div>
<div class="Wennyquote">the secret of walking on water<br>is knowing where the rocks lie</div><div class="Wennygrad"></div><div class="Wennytext">
Where does she end, where does Beqanna begin?
It doesn’t really matter, does it?
Delirious on the Mountain’s side, Eurwen stayed. Once she was a pretty girl, her mane sparkling gold and later (better matching her baby-pink spots) rose-gold. Cute spots still adorn her hide, but her mane and tail have lost their sparkle in the dirt she has collected on her body, and the spots are covered by leaves and twigs and clay. The young girl became a woman when she cured her brother of the Plague, and when others made a different choice. Some of it must have been enough. The Mountain had been split but is whole again now - somewhere deep down, she remembers, she knows. Her connection to the rocks below her had been lost, and was returned.
Returned in such a matter that the feverish young woman couldn’t separate her self from her rocks.
She lay there a time. She didn’t know how long exactly. She had not yet been a fully grown woman when she helped find the Cure, only a foal when she had first set foot on that path. She knew nothing else but to help others.
But she can’t help herself. The Plague had been bad in the end; so bad, that she still hasn’t fully healed.
Perhaps she should have taken it for herself.
But that just wasn’t her.
So here she was.
Alone, and sick, and hardly alive. But not dying, no. She’d given up on that long ago.</div></div></center>
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<center><div class="Wennycontain"><img class="Wennyimg" src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ea/37/69/ea3769a9996075ca9173f6b7facc065a.jpg"><div class="Wennyname">Eurwen</div>
<div class="Wennyquote">the secret of walking on water<br>is knowing where the rocks lie</div><div class="Wennygrad"></div><div class="Wennytext">
Where does she end, where does Beqanna begin?
It doesn’t really matter, does it?
Delirious on the Mountain’s side, Eurwen stayed. Once she was a pretty girl, her mane sparkling gold and later (better matching her baby-pink spots) rose-gold. Cute spots still adorn her hide, but her mane and tail have lost their sparkle in the dirt she has collected on her body, and the spots are covered by leaves and twigs and clay. The young girl became a woman when she cured her brother of the Plague, and when others made a different choice. Some of it must have been enough. The Mountain had been split but is whole again now - somewhere deep down, she remembers, she knows. Her connection to the rocks below her had been lost, and was returned.
Returned in such a matter that the feverish young woman couldn’t separate her self from her rocks.
She lay there a time. She didn’t know how long exactly. She had not yet been a fully grown woman when she helped find the Cure, only a foal when she had first set foot on that path. She knew nothing else but to help others.
But she can’t help herself. The Plague had been bad in the end; so bad, that she still hasn’t fully healed.
Perhaps she should have taken it for herself.
But that just wasn’t her.
So here she was.
Alone, and sick, and hardly alive. But not dying, no. She’d given up on that long ago.</div></div></center>