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High above the Threshold, a Pegasus fought against the cold wind. The updraft was choppy, proving a difficult fly. Below him, a vast plane of trees gave promise to shelter. There, a quarter mile ahead, was a small clearing. He sloped his powerful wings, slowly spiraling from the grey sky.
The great beast landed with a muffled thud in the snow. His wings ached, ice forming crisp and sharp between his feathers. Nope, flying wasn't happening today. He extended his great wings with one, two, three strong beats, dislodging as much frost as possible, before closing them tight to his sides. He let out a small huff, and shook his head. He hadn't seen another soul for miles, and was desperate to find someone, anyone, to share this loneliness with. If he could, he would call out, hoping his words could reach ears of another to come and join him, or atleast direct him towards herd lands where he could join a band.
Silver eyes, which matched the clouds that hung low above him, surveyed his surroundings. Trees reached up with gnarled fingers, scraping at the sky. Few birds roosted in the creaking boughs, adding more to the lonely landscape. He reared up, his powerful pillars striking and pawing at the air. He threw his head back, opening his jaws as if to cast out a mighty, trumpeting whinny, but all that escaped was a puff of misted breath. He came back down, pawing the ground with an obsidian hoof, frustrated. Every aching dragging day was a reminder that he was cursed, crippled. Try as he might to stay optimistic, it grew hard.
He began moving forward, his strides smooth and long. He had formed sleek muscles from his miles of travel, on hoof and wing. But his strength couldn't ward off this biting cold. It seeped between his feathers, nipped at his ears, and numbed all his senses.
Suddenly, he lurched forward, his thick legs rocketing him forward. He bounded through a drift of snow, laughing in silence and tossing his mane. He bounded like a young colt, and for the moment, forgot anout his loneliness, his pain, his memories of home. His antics upset the small murder of ravens, and they made a short racket and took off from the trees. Balthazar chased after them, his powerful legs driving him into the thickness of the forest.
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