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I am still finding myself surprised by the power I hold now. I am a leader. As it was, I traveled to the desert, a landscape with white fur blanketing brown down. Snow drifted softly, seemingly never-ceasing in my travels. Up here, the flurries on the ground gave way to white drifts and clouds fattened on snow, to delightful thermals that gave my aching batter self a rest. My wings are sore, stiffened with ice that had accumulated among the black edges, so instead of a gentle whisper in a down-stroke, they give an eerily loud crack. Delicate white beads upon the edges of my black feathers, making it even harder to fly, ice licking my mane and tail.
Raven wings thrust downwards, muscles throbbing red-hot. Onyx eyes turn, surveying the patchwork ground. Snow, snow, and yet more snow. It never ends. A massive tree grows by a blue disk of some sort- perhaps frozen water? Moaning softly, a wind catches me, keening sorrowful songs as it lifts me. I extend my wings for maximum effort, not wishing to have over-extend myself more than I had on my fast flight here.
It reminds me of my first time in battle. Honor-bound by the tedious ways of Svit... kona? Maybe... I had been asked to join a legion by the Ice-Fangs, a treacherous sky-land where the storms gusted and lightning cracked. It was on that frontier than I had joined one of the constant battles with the flow of enemies that constantly invaded.
"Ho! Who goes there?" I can almost hear my sub-ordinate yelling at me, his gray wings beating a furious tattoo, the ice lashing at his white-masked face. After I had done the customary greetings, I had hastily explained myself, before he threw me into the midst with a white-socked foot. Thunder roared so loudly around me that I could hear nothing, not even my heartbeat. Rain lashed me with miserable but hungry feelers, tendrils that soaked my wings and threw the legion into disarray. Enemies had done quick work of the sub-ordinate, but only with three pegasi snapping the delicate wing-bones, sending him plummeting downwards. I can remember the arduous task of collecting about thirty soldiers, rounding them up, re-adjusting our tasks, risking our laws of death by ignoring the commander. From there, we had accelerated into the clouds, into the very center of the storm, and rained down upon the enemy. The crunch of hooves against bone, the mighty pull on muscle as I heaved my body back up.
That day, when I alighted upon the ground surrounded by my fellow warriors, I had been a hero. That was the day they started called me 'Stormchaser'.
"blah blah blah."
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