[open] protect your neck & triumph.

[Roselin]

Rosey was fortunate.

She had a mother who made all the time in the world for her. She had three elder brothers who kept her company when she wished it. They played games with her and told her stories. She had a father who visited often and was never unkind. In fact, he liked to tease her and Leilan had been the one to teach her about the clouds of ice-smoke that sometimes came ribboning out through her dark nostrils.

Roselin knew about the Fairies but she had yet to meet one (and when would she? The silver-black filly rarely left Taiga). If she had known that the dark colt was familiar with them, their conversation might have taken a different direction.

But instead, he had called to the grasses below their petite hooves and Rosey’s slender head was still glancing towards the now-green ground. She doesn’t know that this creation stems from a lack of love, that it comes from brutal anger that can be tragic in one so young.

All she has known has been an abundance of love. All she has known that her days - apart from this one and getting lost - have been mostly happy. The vibrant green of life begins to fade and Roselin lifts her blue eyes to look at the older colt. "Look,” she says and dips her head to motion at the yellow grasses, still a shade more alive than the others. Her voice is nearly breathless because she hasn’t seen Magic like his yet.

When she glances up at him, she smiles shyly. He should be proud of it. "I can’t do that,” says the girl with a simple shake of her head. "Daddy calls me a glacier, sometimes.” Roselin tries to explain. A soft snort alludes to what her sire has claimed. A soft tendril of silver emerges from her nose and sparkles briefly in the sunlight before the warmth of summer melts it.

"But you can call me Roselin.” She says, that tentative smile coming back. “Or just Rosey. Everybody else does.” Her head tilts curiously, "what does your family call you?”

@[Wu]