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10-26-2012, 05:34 PM
Perhaps his quest wasn't going to be so easy after all. Yol's nares flared, the dark gray greedily inhaling the purity of the sweetest air. Dark fawn eyes took in the landscape below him as the pegasus flew, his massive wings spread wide, catching the air pleasurably as he glided. Until he caught a downdraft and was sent spiraling down to earth, an altogether unpleasant experience as the ground suddenly hurtled upwards towards brute. Flying was a very elegant and precise art, the art of understanding where thermals cycled and downdrafts waited, the delicate beauty of a fresh morning, the understanding of the deadliest of storms. Of course, such understanding came with long experience, of which the beast had little of. Instinct was a strong hand in this game, and the animal's instinct screeched at him to flap hard and flap strong and escape the downwards pushing hand.
There was a low boom as the stallion slammed his wings down hard, before arching those gray airfoils and bringing them down again. With quite a bit of quick work, he exploded from the downdraft, wings flashing in the dull overhead light. The gray steed alighted upon the snowy earth, which was scattered with limp, dead piles of grass near the roots of the trees. Muttering to himself crossly, Yol swiftly made his way towards that dark forest, where the pine trees' leered and the noble trees with leaves long gone shivered, branches a-cackling in the mornin' wind. En masse, the dark forest was big scowl on the earth, a deep scar, a hideous scab, no matter how pretty or pink-skinned it had been before the fall of winter. As the colt travels, he listens. Indeed, there is a lack of birdsong, but hopefully there is even one left behind. There! No. It is only the low whine of the creek as it slithers under blackened ice. Sparse white light breaks through the canopy, setting the drifts of snow to a dull gleam. Yol can smell the faint scent of fox, but for one as big as he is despite being a colt, such a small beast is of no harm.
"Birds?" His deep voice calls, a slight crack of nerves in them. Where are the birds?
