02-26-2019, 09:41 PM
The wind that sweeps down from the Hyaline peaks is frigid. Pteron shivers, clutching his blue and white wings closer to his pale sides for warmth. From where he stands on the western shore of the Crescent Lake he can almost see the first glow of dawn. The jagged edges of the mountains are shadows against the navy sky and Pteron traces each familiar ridge with his steady olive gaze.
He likes down the morning watch despite the cold. The promise of a spectacular sunrise is a prize worth shivering for. Rolling his shoulders, the young stallion feels the dusty blue pinions of his wings draw up reflexively, shifting the warmth of his wings slightly higher on his body. This is not nearly as cold as the Icicle Isle had been, Pteron reminds himself, and it is not even winter yet. How cold will it get here in the dusty hills? Will they get snow?
Pteron has never seen snow, and he is eagerly anticipating its arrival.
Another gust of wind makes his eyes water, and the nearing two-year-old blinks it away, reminding himself that it is nearly time he resume his patrol of the border. He does not want to be the one responsible for letting danger into the kingdom. The tobiano colt enjoys his task, but he knows that he will not enjoy the cold that will wrap around him when he spreads his wings for flight.
With a quiet sigh - mostly to himself - he unfolds his wings and begins to stretrch them in preparation for flight, bracing himself against the cold.
@[Gilt]
<3
He likes down the morning watch despite the cold. The promise of a spectacular sunrise is a prize worth shivering for. Rolling his shoulders, the young stallion feels the dusty blue pinions of his wings draw up reflexively, shifting the warmth of his wings slightly higher on his body. This is not nearly as cold as the Icicle Isle had been, Pteron reminds himself, and it is not even winter yet. How cold will it get here in the dusty hills? Will they get snow?
Pteron has never seen snow, and he is eagerly anticipating its arrival.
Another gust of wind makes his eyes water, and the nearing two-year-old blinks it away, reminding himself that it is nearly time he resume his patrol of the border. He does not want to be the one responsible for letting danger into the kingdom. The tobiano colt enjoys his task, but he knows that he will not enjoy the cold that will wrap around him when he spreads his wings for flight.
With a quiet sigh - mostly to himself - he unfolds his wings and begins to stretrch them in preparation for flight, bracing himself against the cold.
@[Gilt]
<3