Fairspell Meadow the fear has gripped me but here i go

It was easy to stride without care in the meadow. His only barrier was snow and wind. It seemed to always make others hard to spot. If their pale coats reflected light it was hard to differ from sun shining off of snow. He thought of the moonlight maiden who had found herself stuck in a snow drift. Except this one was honey-toned, warm in the cold.

He wondered if he had been spotted yet. His slight trotting pace would slow to a halt. Then carefully — softly — he would let out a small whuff.