[Sorry for the delay D:]

A nose left short, dabbling depressions in the snow as the body pushed it through, trailing pawprints on either side of the singular dotting. Beside it crescents turned into sunken gulches as the heavier body plowed through the pale seas, leaving a wake of ruined, white canyons.

The dog and horse walked on.

The black and white collie stopped abruptly, his head jerking up so quickly his nose was still mounded with snow and sent it flying like a diamond rain. With his folded ears cocked and tail erect he set his amber gaze to the horizon and burned holes into it with his intensity to know.
Beside him the buttermilk stallion shuddered to his own halt. Like a machine powering down so his limbs slowed to a crawl until they ceased to work at all. Mechanical he must surely be as steam rolls off his body in faint wisps while he exhales smoke and flecks of fire.

The black powder collected in the creases of his nose burns as his frustration churns like a maddening thing inside him.

"What is it," he whispers to the dog, his voice a rich whine of impatience. He feels chilled to the bone with the snow up to his knees and the sun barely gracing his back in these deep woods. His heart is leaden for other reasons that coil even tighter, but these most obvious affronts have him clenching his jaw in this moment.

The dog does not speak; he never does. He only throws a shoulder's look at the stallion that is his master and then moves off at a quicker pace. Ricochet heaves a grumble in response but settles into a high trot to follow the mutt all the same.

It does not take long for the silver bullet cutting her path through the forest to be noticed. The taut lines on a worried face relax and tilt into a partial smile as his teal gaze graces her form, legs meanwhile continuing to bring him ever closer to her. She is a beautiful thing, he can tell even from afar that she has steady conformation, an attitude to her step, and most of all, an equine composition. He called out to her with a deep bugle in his rash excitement.

Relenting on his pace as he got closer Ricochet sunk into a halt a stride or two ahead of her, the whole side of his body position at its side to her front. He bowed his neck to let his scar be as hidden as it could. He wore the marring with a mixture of shame and pride. Every twinge of pain it sent curling through his body was just another sharp reminder of his resolve - he would constantly improve until he arose victorious above all else and had conquered the world with the equine race.

It was a heavy thing to wear.

"Good day," he greeted casually, as if crossing an acquaintance rather than a stranger. All equine were family to him. Upon closer inspection he realized what he could not see from afar. Her muscles were a thin mold over her bones and there was a haunted expression in her eyes that troubled him. It sent a fracture in his lopsided grin, causing the ends of his lips to twitch with dissatisfaction. Fire curled from his nose as he blew a heavy gust of steam and anger. Black hairs whipped at his flanks and teeth clicked like bird feet on ice. The Incendiary raged.

"This is unacceptable!" he suddenly bellowed, teal eyes rolling in a world of white as his head knocked on heaven. The dog at his side hunched down against the snow, tail wrapping against his nose as he feared the abrupt wrath of his keeper. Normally the mutt at least understood the cause of the rage, but there was no obvious target, not when an equine mare stood before him.

"No equine should be made to this state," he snarled, at no one in particular, while his body continued to thrash periodically in the form of a striking leg or gnashing teeth. "No equine."