Silver-white snow flakes fell like a thousand crystal diamonds from the pale sky to the powdered ground. The air was cold and quiet, but calm. Red leaves and tree branches bent under the weight of new snow... The only thing disturbed was the white dust on the ground in which hoof marks trailed along after a horse and rider.

The horse's shining black coat contrasted the pale shades all around. Steady hoof beats echoed through the natural arena surrounded only by trees. The stallion pranced lightly on agile feet, moving over the ground as if he never touched it. Warm breath clouded from the elegant creature's nostrils as he arched his neck. One ear pointed forward with interest, the other was swiveled back listening to the commands of his rider.

Blue eyes scanned the ground, ensuring footing for the horse. With the slightest touch of the rein, he changed course, guiding he horse with impossibly light movements. A horse and rider were like dance partners; if they didn't communicate, there would be no grace... nothing to move the watching eye. And what was the point of any dance if not to draw emotion from those who saw it?

It was more than a task. This was art-too perfect the image, all one had to do was to paint wings onto horse and rider. The closer they moved, the slight ringing of bells was audible. Silver bells chimed from their place on the horse's bridle. Wide shining eyes searched the area, and still the creature only listened to the cues of his rider. Hooves crossed, one before another as they turned, spinning gracefully, slowly, like a horse on a carousel.

Long silky mane flowed over the horse's arched neck, and long legs stretched into a graceful gait, simply and perfectly executing each movement with no hesitation-only trust.

Watching them-at least to Milana, was like watching a ghost. They seemed not to notice the world, or anyone else in it. So she stared, enchanted and spell-bound by the dark figures-horse and rider-floating over crystal ground. Shadow and light met somehow, all in two living beings, and she wondered... she wondered if she'd walked into a page of a fairytale, something simply too perfect to be real.

The horses breathing echoed in soft huffs of steam. The hoof-beats thudded in fresh snow. Hushed and barley audible whispers were spoken by the rider, and it all seemed unreal. Milana could only watch, as though in a trance. She feared that moving would somehow break the scene before her... and she didn't want that.

She watched every movement, everything, in hopes that she could repeat it; that maybe one day, she could be the impossible vision... Her respect for Ryden couldn't be voiced. What he could tell a horse without words was simply flawless, and she couldn't comprehend it. All she knew was that she' somehow made her way out to the field, and hadn't moved an inch since... watching, listening... in a reality so like a dream she dared not close her eyes.