The dawn of that spring morning was accompanied by a dull noise unlike what a day like that one would usually behold. A vision seized her that morning, just like all the rest. Her suspicions were confirmed. But these warnings did not heed in the form of vivid hallucinations, rather, they presented themselves in minute rumbles in her chest, subtle but nauseating.
She secured her saddle in preparation of another fruitless attempt, but tried for the sake of hope that maybe this time she would be recognized, her vision being all too real.
Her voice echoed off of the brick of their homes and into the sky, managing to avoid the logic of every ear that listened and resorting to only a pestering neigh in their ears. She was mute, her warnings brushed off the shoulders of her witnesses. Couldn't they understand by now? Without their acknowledgment, the trotting danger was imminent.
Mist loomed around the forest that morning in a chilling haze, a night full of thundering showers being the culprit. The foliage of the forest was thicker that morning, but not enough to where they could shield him from the comforting warmth of the sun. It was the only explanation for the lack of an onset of chills. The fauna was greener that morning, and he could listen to the babbles about the foolishness of the idea, but he knew it was all thanks to her.
As he finally approached the lagoon, he could already hear her sweet voice string a melody of words into song. From the secure gap of a Juniper bush, he carefully observed her in the water as she prepared for the day's labors. Handfuls of her glimmering hair weaved around her hands and body like strings of gold around a spindle. The apples of her cheeks were the colors of freshly picked raspberries, the crest of her nose like the gentle slope of a hill. She was beautiful, but it was her lullaby that entranced him, the words and her story.