The Deep Cold

Water steamed around me. I felt content. The shower had been a start, but the bath had put me at peace. Warm. Limber. Relaxed. I felt separate from anything that had been.

"Hey, Sis! Breakfast's ready!" Sweetie Belle called up to me, shouting from the lower floor.

"I'll be right down!" I called back, in what might have been considered a small lie. It was true that I would instantly apply myself to getting downstairs as soon as possible, but less true that I would be right down. Sweetie knew what I meant, though.

Sighing as my magic unstopped the drain, I hauled myself from the bath, water streaming down my sides in rippling currents. It saturated my fur, which laced downward in low jags. Almost two centimeters too low: I had not gotten my fur cut in quite some time. I wrapped myself in a towel, wrapping it tight, and turned to watch myself in the mirror. My mane was still cut short, and looked droopy and depressed after the bath, but my hairdryer noisily awakened it, turning into the fluffy, curly mess that I had been styling it in as of late. It was a little freeing to not have to apply myself so vigorously to my hair every morning, and I enjoyed the cheerful bounce it had when I shifted about.

I envisioned it as it grew longer, almost seeing a purple lion's mane of curls. I giggled at the image, and bared my teeth experimentally at the mirror. It didn't really work, but that was okay. Lionesses didn't have manes. Although, I probably wouldn't look much more ferocious if I shaved my mane... perhaps the lion's life just wasn't for me.

I danced my towel out with my magic, flinging it at my little laundry hamper. I missed the first time, but that was okay—you can cheat with magic. I took one last glance at the mirror, exerted my horn slightly to adjust my left eye, and left the washroom.