Hooves crunch carefully through old snow, frozen winter air pressing uncomfortably through the thin garb of his summer hair, whispering through his bones like the coldest of lovers. Sometimes, he catches himself straying from his home, feet traveling over endless strange soils. Shame settles over his heart when he realizes how far he has wandered, as if has been unfaithful somehow. Still, the wonders of new things quickly annuls this feeling of infidelity, and he relinquishes his body to the infinite, to the boundaries of soul and body, and how free he is, how chainless, like the physical and the metaphysical are one, old wounds and regrets banished to the fringes of reality.

But the air is cold and unforgiving, and he can feel his blood freeze in his veins. What a wretched place, clothed in perpetual winter. Her architect must be bitter indeed, their wicked fingers crafting such a desolate land. Dei is bundled on his thick neck, pulling long swaths of auburn mane over his body like a blanket, a feeble attempt to shield himself from this winter. The stallion moves forward at a leisurely march, his breath coming out in icy plumes, like the wings of a great arctic bird unfurled. It is sunny, but the warm rays have no chance against this tundra, their warmth deflected from an endless sea of white.

As they creep closer, the yawning blue mouth of a giant makes itself apparent on the white horizon. Curiosity piqued, the stallion increases his pace to a smooth jaunt, a cloud of snow following him as his hooves disturb fine pale powder. It soon spreads its frigid arms into a cold embrace, swallowing the King of Thieves and his reptilian friend in a filter of cobalt. He smiles widely, inquisitive silver eyes roving the cave's belly, watching light filter through solid ice.

The ambient soon grows tense, and the dun feels as if his stomach holds a nest of roiling serpents. He pauses, ears flicking apprehensively as they attempt to catch sound. Moments tick by, and he is only rewarded by silence and near continues on his path until he hears a distant guttural growl, like a monster who cannot get words past his fangs. Dei heeds it also, slender head jerking upwards from its nest of mane, eyes narrowing with suspicion. What is it? Jackal asks, knowing that a dragon's ears are many times more perceptive than any equid's. After a moment of contemplation, female and male, female is frightened, sounds like shrew before feast. The dun's mouth falls into a serious line; he is troubled by the dragon's words. Go find them. With little more than a flick of a long tail, the bronze is off, skillful wings taking him through the blue hall. He flies high, near scraping the ceiling, cautious of whatever menace the mare faces.

The dragon finds her, a pale lady with dark red splotches (dry blood?), and before her stands a wolf the color of snow. He instantly bristles, knowing these canines to be enemies. Wolf, he reports, fire?
Before the dragon can contemplate a response, the nearing clatter of hooves on ice alerts him of his bonded's decision. With each breath that draws him closer, the situation perverse; the mare smells of fear and home, a heartwrenchingly familiar smell of lush grass and fresh mountain air. He pushes faster, the cavern's walls passing by in little more than a blue blur. He finds the maiden and her big bad wolf, and his insides roil with abhorrence. "She is not your prey, dog," he roars, voice colder than all the ice in this damned world. In a single, synchronised motion, King of Thieves pulls to a halt between them, teeth bared and neck snaking downward toward the wolf, while the bronze swoops from behind the mare, jaws wide to reveal a swath of flame, melting the frigid air as it met daylight.

The wolf bears the most passing resemblance to Archibald's red bitch, although he is much leaner, with a cruel, ragged look. Perhaps fire will send him whimpering, as it did with that big black giant, although with the unpredictability of feral things, uncertainty lingers like poison in his throat.

if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones,