Everfree Forest in the Snow
Everfree Forest in the Snow
Once in the days before Hearth's Warming Eve,
There was a mare, a fair maiden I was told.
She had the beauty of a cool summer's rain, and a soul of silver.
On cold winter days she would lie in the snow.
Now she had met a young stallion, a mane of crimson and a heart of gold.
They met in the forest, a sunny morning after a fresh blanket of snow.
He was on his way to a bakery, she was told,
He was from a far away land, and not sure where to go.
A classic love story, I was told. Two lovers, lost and found.
The two engaged in banter, the only souls for miles and miles.
Laughs and talks abode, of their own homes and tribes.
He a unicorn, she an earth pony.
They had agreed to meet again, here. In the forest, in the snow.
Yet things are never as they seemed there, in the forest.
You can never be sure whom you would find in the snow.
As they exchanged their greetings and goodbyes,
She looked in his grey eyes as they faded away in the barren trees.
Two weeks she waited, for his return trip.
All through the nighttime, the windigos bellowed and blew.
A dark, windy winter time, she stayed at home, alone, awaiting the news of politics.
The talks seemingly more bitter than the cold.
And yet when the day came for the appointed time, she stumbled into the ice and snow.
The wind sending shards of frost and shards,
Onto her flesh, it felt like burning.
The sky was dark and the windigos howling,
Yet she forded through the knee-deep snow.
She made her way through the forest, the deep dark, barren trees surround her.
The sky grew darker and white lightning crashed, illuminating the dark blue snow.
She yelled his name in his native tongue, her voice crackling in the frozen air.
Yet no replies returned, not even echos high or low.
Trees shook and crackled in the winds, ice crackled under her feet as she tred through the snow.
She made her way to their appointed spot; the daytime turned into a dark frozen storm.
She clenched on her cloak tight, as it danced like a flag in the sky.
Yet when she reached the spot, she paused in disappointment and surprise: Not a soul was to be seen.
She shivered and shook in her disbelief. Her knees felt weak on all four hooves.
Normally she loved the fresh white snow, but on this day she felt cold.
The sun dawned more quickly on the east side of the mountain, she felt the darkness watching her.
She turned around, slowly. But you can never expect what you'd find in the snow.
A grey wisp, a bright white glow, illuminating the white ice and grey trees.
Staring at her in the face, her eyes widened and her body stopped.
Stunned, frozen in the snow, her face bleached white from the shock and glow.
It was as if she saw a ghost.
A slow wisp, it glowed, flying through the chilly air.
It floated through the air, like a thin veil of smoke.
It flew past her shoulder, across the wind, and traced a path through the evening snow.
Shocked, stunned, and speechless, she followed her eyes on the gliding float.
She felt her body flush warm with blood, melting the crushed, crusty snow.
Her hooves began to move again, unwillingly through the path by the smoke.
The wind blew harder as she trotted through the snow.
Following blindly through the storm, she fllowed the smoke.
Not sure about the path she took, she only weathered on.
And there, the smoke evaporated, in a bright flash and ball of vapor.
She felt terror and panic strike her as a circle of barren trees closed in.
She had no idea where she was. Only that she was lost.
She felt strangely warm as beads of sweat melted over her neck.
There, a gap in the trees, and beyond, a large clearing.
And on the otherside, a stallion buried in the snow.
She sprinted into the clearing, across the trees.
And paused at the edge of the snow.
The stallion laid there, a white horn and a crimson mane.
She approached the pony slowly, unsure if she wanted to know.
She felt her warm hooves suddenly give way to cold, and her knees collapse under her weight.
She suddenly felt dizzy and tumbled forward in the snow.
The winds slowly fade, and a blanket of powder coat her fallen body.
A bright warm sun shone dyed a crimson shade of orange.
There, blurred, was a familiar face, a white coat and a mane of crimson.
His horn glowing grey as she felt a blanket roll itself around her.
Her vision focused, and she could see his grey eyes,
staring down at her, a warm smile on his face.
A soft song jingled in the distance,
The fire of friendship lives in our hearts,
As long as it burns,
We cannot drift apart.