Golden eyes watching our every move
Losing time without the sun or moon
They stand there, shivering, on the icy banks of the northernmost island, staring into the blue-white of the landscape. The chestnut filly huddles close to his side, seeking warmth from the biting chill of the cold wind. He peers around them with mocha brown eyes, squinting against the icy air.
Then, as though the gods have taken pity on them, the wind blows from cold to warm, ruffling their sodden coats, preparing them for the biting cold this land promises. The blue and white of his frame dries quickly, his patchy coat thin and ragged enough that water does not cling too heavily to it. Though, in this clime, it certainly would not provide as much protection against the bite of the cold.
That is not something he can afford to worry about now, however. There is too much else occupying his tumbling thoughts.
The warm wind does not last long, unfortunately, before giving way to blowing ice and snow once more. With that foreboding wind comes a darkening of the sky overhead, those ominous clouds heavily laden with snow. Soon fat flakes are falling with vicious rapidity, the once clear landscaping becoming cloaked beneath a thick sheet of white. Visibility falls to nearly nothing, until Ether can barely see the russet hue of the filly next to him.
Fear spikes in his breast as he braces himself against the wind. He’d had only a moment to consider the landscape before the white had obscured it. In that time he had seen only two distinct paths, one falling away to the left, the other rising to the right. He hadn’t had time to try to discern where either might lead, and this lack of knowledge settles heavily into his thin chest.
He presses closer to Briella as he squints into the distance, futilely attempting to see more than a few feet in front of his nose. So distracted is he by this, that he barely notices the girl leave his side, tracking towards the left as she chooses a path to follow. It is only her words echoing hollowly into the wind that draws realization.
For a moment, he glances frantically into the the yawning white, her small form already swallowed by the snow. Leaping forward with a sudden panic, he follows the direction he had heard her voice. It seems like ages he searches those endless drifts of white (he couldn’t lose her! Couldn’t. He had made a promise), though in truth it is perhaps only a few moments.
With visibility reduced almost to nothing, it isn’t until he nearly barrels straight into that he realizes he had found her again. He breathes a sigh of relief then, focusing his attention more fully on her. He would not lose her again.
The wind howls against them, and she seems to have trouble walking, her frail little body being pushed sideways as much as it goes forward. He too braces against the wind, but his bulk allows him more purchase, and so he places himself at her side, allowing her to use him as a crutch with which to move forward. Her whispered plea brings a heaviness to his heart, and he reaches down to offer her a reassuring nudge. “We’ll get back to them,” he promises.
He is not a fairy, but he hopes she would believe him anyhow.
As they walk, he realizes she had chosen the left path. He does not know whether it is a good thing or a bad thing, but he would not leave her alone out here. And so, to the left they go, pressing feebly into the wind as they try to find their way along an impossible trail.
ether