~~~
The darkness was overwhelming. Out of all the nights she has seen, this got to be the darkest one.
And one of the coldest, too.
She’s been walking for days. A thin piece of cloth was all that covered her shivering, fatigued body; her empty bag was left hundreds of steps behind, bearing the memories of her very last snack.
The mare could barely see ahead of her, save a white cloud rhythmically appearing in front of her nostrils. She found comfort in that cloud, despite all hopelessness of her situation. Stranded in a vast desert of snow, she knew she was still alive. Walking forward, towards a goal she could neither see, nor imagine.
Carefully turning her head, the mare gently bit the piece of cloth and once again pulled it back over her withers. It kept sliding off and giving the biting frost a brief chance to clench its icy teeth into the mare’s exposed coat, thus reminding her of the unforgiving gravity of the trouble she got herself into.
Yet the cold was of least trouble to her mind at that moment.
The mare halted and took a deep, shaky breath. The crisp chill actually did her quite well.
She hesitated for a moment, then she bit the cloth, this time dragging it off herself.
It will stay behind, she thought. Just like everything else.
Remains of a once glorious outfit lay in the snow as the pony moved on.
Carefully stepping on through the desert of black and white, she closed her eyes and watched the memories. Even with the last possession lying way behind, they were here to follow: Failures, wherever she tried. Baltimare, Filly Delphia, Manehattan. Not a single success. All phantoms of the past.
After another dozen steps, the mare halted again and exhaled. Watching the vapour fade away, she silently confirmed to herself that there was no point in going any further. She was too exhausted and hungry, and not even magic would be there to save her.
Another moment, and the mare’s body sank into the cold bed beneath her, softly and silently, as a single snowflake descends into the endless sea of oblivion.
~~~