My only friend was the man in the moon.

Eira... The left of the scrawny child’s downy blue ears crooked to the side thoughtfully and her narrow chin swerved again towards the foliage which had seized the quietly mannered pegasus, before her. Though her eyes searched for suggestion of a creature shrouded in feather (her bright imagination this time did not deviate far from an overly covered avian), Eira was unable to place it through the murk and mist in the woody forest around them. Barbered feathers shook lightly, discomforted by the lack of her own success; bothered by the fact that the taller, wiser, mare seemed so much better in tune with their surroundings, but the shifting sound of the other’s voice shook the feeling suddenly from mind. "The flowers warned that it might be fatal to take it from the creature…” sterner-toned words furthered the conversation and Eira turned with a rather startled expression to examine her company. “The flowers said…that?” Gaze hesitantly side-swept the unusual flora nearby, the same chill clings up her spine that she recalled whenever she stood beneath the burning eyes of the Portal’s living fog; were they watching now? Eira’s focus returned with a thud as the other horse began to move away, gentle voice humming quietly ahead. Unable to resist, the younger followed with a small space allowed between them, eyes and ears trained curiously to the point of interest ahead. "I am a book of snow, a spacious hand, an open meadow, a circle that waits, I belong to the earth and its winter."

- Pablo Neruda, Winter Garden

@Taivas can lead the way.