Snow ghosted across the icy ground, gifted wings by the icy breeze that wreaked havoc across the barren steppe. It brushed against Roland’s fetlocks with a chilling touch, a shiver coursing through his tensed muscles. His sapphire gaze flicked from the snake back up to the mirror, hating the fearful look in his bright eyes. All too sudden the image changed, distorting the reflection of his golden body until nothing but gray mist appeared in the glass. The stallion jumped as the obscuring fog parted slowly to reveal a twisted image of the Earth God, his body emaciated and weak. The deity’s head was soon replaced by the Moon Goddesses, her face sunken and aged.

Roland’s lips parted to let out a wordless cry of protest, sounding uncomfortably like a whimper as he watched the distorted images of his beloved Gods flash across the mirror’s silvery surface. He stepped towards the speculum, stumbling as the snake’s grip threw him off balance. Blue eyes searched the glass, heart pounding frantically in his chest. Why was the snake showing him this? Was it just to toy with his emotions, or could it be a glimpse of the future, a fragment of paramount foreshadowing that was divulged only to his eyes? He stared helplessly at the blood stained faces of the Gods, a frown creasing his forehead as their bodies slowly turned to stone.

Occupied thoroughly with his anguish, he had barely felt his dark companion shift its grip on his leg and slither up his neck until its mouth lingered by his ear. Another snake had appeared in the icy looking glass, and this time Roland was wary at its appearance. He jerked away from the sardonic voice that cut through the night, unsure of whether it was a source of relief to him or not. “Then what does this mean?” He questioned, fear turning to frustration as he gestured towards the mirror with his muzzle. The words had barely left his tongue before the snake in the glass was leaping at him, a reflection of what had happened mere moments before. The other serpent coiled round his neck, choking off his oxygen as he jerked back, dancing out of reach.

His hooves thudded against the snow as he leapt backwards, missing the jaws of the new snake by mere inches. Nostrils flared, he turned to look at it in horror, shaking his head violently in hopes of ridding himself of the other reptile. This event alone was enough to make him forever wary of travelling alone at night, and this new aversion to snakes was likely to last a lifetime. The stallion rose up in a rear, back arching as he tried to twist his neck out of the snake’s grip, letting out a gasp. Spots of blindness and pale colour still lingered in his vision, and the bleeding wound on his throat stung as he writhed. “-the hell?” He managed to choke out in a voice so seldom vulgar, wondering what he had done to deserve this.

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