A little bit of happiness... (©SunBlind)
The little stallion bounded through the snow, chasing eddies of snowflakes as they swirled about in the chill breeze. The funny thing was, it wasn't so much Creslath dancing with the ice crystal, but rather they that chose to dance with him. Many another unicorn, whose grace and agility were often more elegant than that of Creslath, attempted this wintery dance to no avail. They looked like awkward foals stumbling through the drifts attempting to catch a snowflake on their muzzle. A snowflake completely determined to avoid them.
No one really thought much about this, except for those jealous of his ability, but it came to the attention of some of the elders. It was odd, they agreed, but they could find no reason for it. Creslath had shown no other power over the fluffy white stuff, perhaps it was just in his nature to predict the swirl and glide of each icy crystal as it fell from the skies.
Then came the winter of the great storm. The wind howled in baleful fury, blowing through thick winter coats and freezing the skin of all creatures who found themselves without shelter. Even those who sought refuge in the forest were still tormeted by the icy chill.
And the snow came. It came in a blinding blizzard, a whiteness so pure none could move for fear of walking into a tree, another unicorn, or worse, one of the great drifts that were being birthed. For those who floundered in the deep, icy whiteness, would struggle till they collapsed with exhaustion, their sweat freezing to their bodies. They welcomed the sleep that came after that, but it was a sleep from which they did not wake. And the snow buried them, erasing all trace of their existence.
The foals were the first, their legs being shorter, more unstable, they would find themselves trapped in the snow, their calls muffled by the blizzard and whirled away by the wind. The old were next, as tired, weak knees buckled as worn hooves slipped upon the ice.
Creslath was frantic, as were the others. Those who could gathered together, huddling for warmth and protection in the sheltered clearing. But some members of the herd were missing, dams worried about their foals, stallions worried about their mares. But they could not leave the shelter of the trees.
Creslath could not bear to stand by and do nothing while the others were lost, so against the will of th elders he bounded out into the forest to search for them. The wind blew in great gusts, but somehow, Creslath could pick his way, the snow would conveniently clear at the very moment he needed it to. Following the path made in the storm, one by one he found the missing unicorns and led them back to the herd.
After Creslath appeared several times, another chilled unicorn in his wake, the elders began to understand though the stallion himself did not. The snow wished to please him. When he wanted to dance with them, they would dance. When he needed them to part, they would part. He could not stop the storm, but wherever he went, its fury would abate, and those near him could enjoy a respite from the icy flakes that stung the eyes and collected in a heavy blanket upon their backs.
Now when they watch Creslath play in the drifts of snow, it was no longer with a confusion of mystery, but now, with a wonder of magic.
Name: Creslath (Snowflake)
Glory: Unlasta se Cassta
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