For a moment relief washed over Roland as he felt the snake’s grip loosen from his throat and the reptile slipped from his neck, scales sliding against golden skin. It hit the snow with a satisfying, muffled thump, and the stallion didn’t hesitate in widening the distance between them. His sides were heaving with fearful breaths, eyes wide as he looked down at the two black serpents curled upon the icy ground. He didn’t even notice the cold wind as it blew against his skin; his blood was pumped full of adrenaline, and the ache of the bleeding wound on his neck was enough to keep his attention fixated elsewhere.

The bone chilling voice reaches him again, double toned as both snakes respond in time to each other. He flinches away from the noise, frowning at their response. “You must have some purpose, unless I am the victim of a poorly orchestrated jest,” he called back, voice quiet as if he feared to disturb the silence. It was too difficult to contemplate the reason behind the strange occurrence. Why should a mirror appear in the darkness, manifesting conveniently before his eyes, and his alone? Why should the snakes feel such resentment towards him when he was merely an innocent bystander caught up in the wonder of magic, when he had experienced so little in his life?

The mirror suddenly explodes, shards of ice shattering across the snow as the sound of breaking glass echoes across the flat ground. The gold light emanating from the speculum increases in intensity, casting a brief halo across his features. Shadows darkened and stretched across the white snow before the steppe was plunged into the blackness of night. The world became ominously still, suddenly lacking the mysterious lantern that had given Roland the opportunity to see clearly. His eyes gradually adjusted, the colourful banner of the northern lights rippling across the bejeweled sky.

For a moment he almost forgot about the two snakes lying in wait beneath the cover of shadows, until the ominous hiss of breath through their throats becomes a demanding, dangerous noise that split through the frosty air. The stallion tucked his chin down, searching the snow for the two black bodies. Luck appeared to be on his side, as their scarlet eyes caught the light of the moon when they moved, and he saw them as they lunged for his hooves. Heart pounding in his throat, he leapt from the ground, twisting in mid air and coming to land again a few feet away. He shifts about on his hooves, quickly growing tired of the serpents’ antics. Lifting his knees, he attempts to lash out at one of the creatures, hoping that, with a well aimed strike, he might be able to render it harmless. Whether it was capable of dying or not still remained to be seen.

[I didn’t have the time to proofread this, so I apologize for any mistakes!]

walk walk walk
"talk talk talk"