How did you end up in the snow anyways? You snort your disapproval at the endless ice and smash one of your shodden hooves down into the frozen ground, expecting it to give way to your might and sorely disappointed when it does not. Maybe you would have remembered that the earth doesn't give way to you just because you demand it if you hadn't been busy getting so resoundingly high in the presence of that rabicano general of the Basin. But, as your hoof is no worse for the wear, you guess that if you had to choose between being sober and making the earth move or being high and having it resist your force that you would choose the second one. What good is being able to put a dent in the earth anyway?

Of course, nobody is ever really left alone for long in Helovia. If you actually believed that the Gods cared enough about the lives of mortals to interfere, you might think that they purposefully (for the sake of pure amusement) force antisocial creatures into situations they do not want to be in. Your obviously important musings on the cost-benefit analysis of being high vs. moving the earth is interrupted by a voice that is... distantly familiar. You angle yourself towards the sound and continue to walk.

Did he remember. There were very few things he remembered with clarity, but meeting this strangely colored brute of a pegasus was actually a moment that was fairly easy to picture. It had nothing to do with the pegasus, of course. It actually had everything to do with one idiotic blue mare, who Oxy now knew to be Ampere, falling from a tree and electrifying all plant life within a 20 foot radius. Idiot. The curiosity of your companion compels you to give her a quick rundown of the scene from start to finish, brief flashes of hazy images that she's grown more than accustomed to looking at. Of course, this means you've taken quite a long time to answer and so your companion decides to answer for you. As you stop somewhere near the pegasus, the boggart shifts down beside you and turns into the image of crackling electricity, bursting outwards in a harmless display before returning to her naturally invisible state. “What.” is your rather intelligent addition to her greeting. Eloquent as ever, obviously.