A gorgeous day in Veilheim The morning sun draped Veilheim’s slopes in honeyed light, while pine boughs heavy with snow trembled under the breath of a passing wind. Eryx - crimson-plumed, angelic, built like a stallion caught mid-gallop - exhaled slowly, unfolding his wings into the stillness. Warmth seeped from his form, part of him, glowing faintly as it kissed the frozen tips of meadow grass. Next to him stood Polaris, a mare tall and poised, her coat a blend of stormcloud grey and midnight sheen. She watched the heavens without speaking, eyes tracing paths only she could see. The air near her feet curled and lifted, stirred by an unseen force, cool yet tender, moving like thought itself. Though they cared deeply, Eryx and Polaris clashed like flames meeting wind. Eryx carried himself with fierce pride, sharp-edged where others softened. His honesty struck fast - too fast at times - with little thought for who stood near. That heat inside him burned bright, yes - but also unpredictable, flaring without warning. Polaris moved differently, calm pooling in her voice like water in still air. She chose each phrase gently, shaping silence as much as sound. Where he pushed forward, she leaned back, observing before touching the moment. Even when her heart leaned close to Eryx, she’d pause - giving space for his storms to fade into quiet. They held tight through everything, yet never needed words to know how opposite edges can fit just right. They walked the trail, deep in among old trees standing still like silent watchers. Yet peace never lasts - something sharp crackled through the air, sudden. Calm peeled away fast, torn apart by wind clawing at branches. The sky turned dark quickly, full of weight, ready to break. The Onset of Chaos A cold shiver ran up his spine when the wind roared through the branches, sharp as a scream. Eryx stood taller, light fading in his gaze while shadows stretched across the edge of the sky. He spoke low - ‘something felt off’ - the words barely escaping before gusts swallowed them whole. Polaris froze mid-step, neck twisting toward the thickening dark above. Light drained fast, sucked behind storm-heavy clouds rolling in without pause. Cold sank into the ground like silence after a shout. Then came the storm, full-bodied and wild, tearing through with a voice of its own. Blinding flakes struck their coats, then battered their bodies and Eryx’s wings, pushing them into a tighter huddle. Cold gnawed at Eryx’s feathers, while his inner glow - a steady thing before - jittered like a dying spark in the freeze. "Move," he snapped, words torn by wind, nearly lost beneath its howl. Polaris gave a stiff nod; yet her gaze held stillness, sharp with dread. "No trace left," she said, each syllable curling upward in pale fog. What used to be a known track now lay buried, erased under white weight. Beyond, broken limbs sagged with ice, weaving a maze no one would want to enter. Eryx’s ears flicked at every sound, his gaze slicing through the thick white veil - vision swallowed by the endless snowfall. Trapped now, the blizzard curling around them like a snarling beast, any path ahead erased beneath ice and fury. Polaris trembled, breath thin, her grip on warmth slipping grain by grain under the weight of frozen air. Not just weather, this - an ancient kind of wrath roaring down from the peaks, indifferent to who stood in its path. Facing it alone? Together? Didn’t matter much now - the storm decided, and they answered only with silence. Clashing and Collaborating Eryx clutched the strap of his bag tighter, pulse thudding under skin while gusts tore at their coats. “Shelter - we’ve got to find one,” he muttered through a fabric wound tight across his face. A toppled trunk ahead caught his eye; without waiting, he pointed. “Under there. Scoop out room ‘til we’re clear of this blast.” He didn’t ask. Eyes locked onto Polaris like command was second nature, like silence meant agreement. Polaris paused, ears flickering toward the sky as thunder rolled above. Yet her gaze lifted slowly, fixed on the darkened clouds pressing down. “The tree could give way anytime” - her words came steady, quiet without being soft. Wind curled near her shoulders, restless, tasting the thick air. Instead of rushing forward, maybe they needed shelter carved by stone, something solid beneath layers of time. A crack in earth would do better than this fragile cover. Still, Eryx didn't nod - he exhaled hard, irritation spilling out like water over rock. “You’re overthinking it!” he snapped, his feathers bristling. “The wind will pick up this whole thing if we wait for some perfect spot. We’re wasting time!” Polaris’s calm demeanor faltered slightly at his tone, but she kept her focus on the task at hand. “You’re not wrong about the wind, but if the tree falls, we’ll both be crushed. I know it’s not perfect, but it’s not a complete solution,” she said, her voice soft but resolute. Eryx’s light element flared briefly, his impatience simmering with each passing second. “Fine, but we can’t argue about it while we’re freezing. Figure out how we can get shelter quickly. I don’t have time to debate this all day.” “Me neither,” said Polaris. Her hooves stirred the wind, brushing frost aside until roots showed beneath the trunk. “Follow my move,” she signaled Eryx without words. “A wall made of packed snow might hold off the cold - shape it near this spot, where earth meets bark and depth stays low.” Eryx gave in, slow and stiff, raking hooves through frost-heavy ground to reach the buried roots beneath. One labored at speed, jaws tight, tearing upward - while the other shaped breath into wind, letting it whisper across packed drifts to loosen them gently. No words passed between them, just rhythm out of sync, each move tugging at the quiet like a snagged thread. Tension curled in their shoulders, yet neither stepped back - the cold didn’t care for pride, only persistence. Their ways clashed, sure, but survival doesn’t ask about comfort; it only watches who keeps moving. A crack in the tempest. Wind screamed across the ridge, tearing through fur like frozen needles, bending shapes low beneath drifts - two figures swallowed by white. Eryx drove downward, shoulders tight, every strike of his hoof a short burst of force. Time stretched thin; his breath came ragged, edged with irritation. "Move quicker," he bit out, words brittle under ice and strain. Hesitation meant nothing here. Polaris needed no reminder, yet still - he pushed harder Polaris tensed when he spoke, the cold biting harder than the wind ever could. Yet her answer came level - strained, though, like stretched wire. The air around her flickered, parting snow just enough to move forward, yet her thoughts kept slipping. ‘Weather wasn't hers to command,’ that much she told him, flat and clear - he couldn’t expect miracles. Eryx shot her a glare, his feathers bristling. “I didn’t ask for the weather to disappear. I asked for shelter. That’s all I need right now.” Their strained silence split open, sharp as frost underfoot. Golden sparks burst from Eryx, slicing the dull sky, while he clawed at the ground with restless force. His frenzy shook loose a heap of ice-heavy snow. A heavy limb gave way - cracked loud - and slammed down just shy of Polaris. Frozen mid-step, Polaris glared at the branch lying in the snow - her breath hitching, flakes jittering sideways like they sensed the crackle in her chest. She swung toward Eryx, pupils blown wide, a mix of dread and irritation pooling in her stare. "That nearly took my head off," she snapped, words thin and cold as ice needles.". Eryx’s jaw tightened as he stared at her. “I didn’t mean to,” he answered gruffly, his voice laced with remorse. “I just - I want to get through this. I can’t stand the cold. I can’t stand being helpless here. I thought if I just worked harder, we’d be safe faster.” Polaris’s ears drooped slightly, and for a moment, the silence between them was heavy. “Maybe working harder isn’t the answer,” she said softly. “Maybe we need to work better - together. You can be fast, but I can be careful. If we listen to each other, we might make it out of this storm alive.” Eryx paused, light flickering low like they’d lost their mind. Silence stretched before he gave a slow nod. “Fine,” he murmured, tone softened at the edges. “For this moment, we go your way.” Their once shaky connection started to change, tension melting into quiet give-and-take. With the wind still roaring outside, movement returned - slower, steadier, shaped by unspoken agreement. The Breaking Point. Night pressed hard, wind screaming through ice-heavy trees, snapping twigs like old bones. Their cover - little more than a dent in the drifts - trembled under each gust. Eryx crouched low, jaw tight, lungs hitching with every thin pull of air. Cold gnawed past skin, deeper, where heat used to live. Down on his belly lay flat, useless, slick with frozen mist. Beside him, Polaris leaned close, muzzle pale from rime, her inner air sputtering - a weak pulse fighting dark and gale alike. “This won't last,” she whispered, the words slipping out just under the wind's roar. Eryx pounded the ground with his hoof, “I can feel it. I’ve felt it since we started. But we don’t have time to start over. If this falls, we’re not getting up.” Polaris paused, yet mid-breath, a sharp blast tore between the pines. Overhead, wood split - sharp, sudden - and a slab of frozen weight broke free, crashing against the shelter’s frail frame. Eryx slammed sideways from the jolt; timbers groaned under the shake. Cold poured inside, stinging every open patch of flesh, while the world seemed ready to bury them without warning. Eryx cried out, throat tight from strain. Polaris - “lend a hand” - his plea cracked into silence “I’m trying!” she shouted, fighting through the gusts that flung snow in her face. Panic slipped into terror, then without words they lunged at the drifts, hooves tearing like animals caught mid-storm. Speed didn’t matter, warmth didn’t return. Each breath thinner, each motion slower. Clenching his jaw, Eryx dragged himself upright, shrugging off the dull crawl of deadness in his limbs. He glanced at Polaris - tone quieter than usual, almost hesitant. “We should keep going,” he said. “The shelter's holding now, but it might not hold later. Getting trapped under rubble isn't a chance worth taking.” Polaris exhaled, nodding. “Let’s go. I think I saw a rock formation just beyond the trees. If we can reach it, it might be enough to keep us out of the worst of the wind.” He started to speak when - without warning - a sharper wind slammed into them. Everything shifted sideways, balance lost. Thunder ripped through the air, fierce and unrelenting, as if the sky itself were shouting. The storm's roar faded, replaced by silence stitched with falling flakes. Snow settled gently now, blanketing everything in muffled calm. Beneath jagged stone, they crouched close, bodies leaning into shared warmth. Their coats, once heavy with ice, started to loosen and steam near the small flame Eryx coaxed from kindling. Firelight flickered across their faces - tired eyes, chapped skin, breath like slow smoke. No words came; exhaustion spoke louder than voice ever could. The cold still bit, though less fiercely now, held at bay by rock, fire, and each other. Eryx leaned against the stone, gaze drifting toward the thinning clouds overhead. His words came out cracked, shaped by frost - confession slipped through numb lips. Silence had held him since they'd crawled beneath this ledge, bodies dragging, breath ragged. Now light crept across the ridge, pale and hesitant. Polaris turned toward him, her gaze a little kinder than it often was. “That much is true.” She waited, then added, “Someone came with us this time.” Eryx’s wings trembled, faint yet steady - he gave a single nod, no words needed. The light within him pulsed, soft and sure, like breath after cold water. Quiet stretched out, thick with what wasn’t said. Not merely staying alive, but something deeper now, forged in wind and rain they’d faced side by side.