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09-15-2012, 12:42 PM
The air was chilled. So cold actually that he was pretty sure little ice sickles had begun to form along his feathers. This of course wasn’t the case; it was all in his mind. Midas was a warm blooded throat creature, not really one to favor cold environments. Anything below fifty gave him the shivers, plus it really never got nippy in the throat; they had always been to near the warm currents of the ocean. His pelt hadn’t even given thought to growing out for this winter, the nights had simply been to warm thus far. A main worry he had was for the company traveling close by, stormy clouds ravaged the air above them, grey and threatening. The wind was starting to pick up signaling a chance at stormy weather. The air seemed to get more and more frigid as they went on, openly concerned he turned glance at his female friend and uttered, “Is this going to be too much for him?” He didn’t doubt her ability to maneuver these lands safely, her species was unicorn; and he had often heard that her kind favored the cooler weather. Vocals shared no inner questions that would prove pointless, but—memories and thoughts of moments passed lingered upon his thinking. They shouldn’t have to go much further, hooves dug with sharp clinks into the frozen ice and slushy snow. The land seemed empty to him, a hidden beauty he wasn’t breed to recognize. Each breath had turned into a cloud of mist, Midas snorted with given frustration and gave pause; skull twisting at an angle, “We search for steel now,” he wasn’t one hundred percent sure of the exact location of this steel and how they would be locate it. Again he uttered words, but this time so softly one might wonder if he was speaking to anything in particular, “Then, you will find steel in the Frostbreath Steppe. You should hurry before the ice becomes too difficult to puncture.” Curiously neck twisted muzzle toward ground, inhaling sharply and scrapping with right forehoof he mused, “Our next piece lies under this?” |
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