//------------------------------//
// Dans la Tempête 
// Story: Quete 
// by Comrade Bagel Muffin 
//------------------------------//

Outside the storm was furious. The wind wiped around in every direction. as the rain beat against the two souls that would try and brave it. Tilda tried her best to maintain her body's position, while all Escutcheon could do was wrap his hooves around her neck and hold on for dear life. The wind threatening at any moment to rip him away from the griffon and send him plummeting to the ground below. The two of them went south holding their course for hours.
"Things are about to get a bit bumpy!" Tilda yelled at the top of her lungs, trying to be heard above the howling wind. She could feel the colt's grip slipping. She grabbed his forehooves with her talons hoping that it would be enough. The turbulent winds slammed into Tilda throwing her and her passenger around like a ragdoll. Escutcheon was nearly ripped away from Tilda several times. The two of them fought desperately toward the south.
The storm's fury intensifying each second. "How far is the storm!" Escutcheon screamed over the storm.
"I don't know I've never flown south before!" The sky lite up as a bolt of lightning raced from one storm cloud to another. "Crude, hold on and what ever you do don't let go!" She tightened her grip till she was afraid that if she squeezed tighter he'd start bleeding, and then she nose dived straight down to the ground hundreds of meters below. The roar of the thunder drowned out the sound of the wind and Escutcheon's screaming. At the last second she threw her wings open coming to a sudden breaking stop ten meters from the ground, the flat grassy prairie had become a raging quagmire as the ground attempted to absorb the never ending tide of rain. She raced to a tree that now formed an island, and landed.
"Are you okay?" She asked as the two of them took shelter as the wind swayed the tree back and forth.
"I think my life flashed before my eyes." Escutcheon answered. rubbing his for legs where Tilda had grabbed him. They felt wetter than the rest of him. A flash of lightning confirmed it, showing five red streaks flowing down his white coat.
"Let's get that taken care of and try and keep going." Tilda pulled some bandages from a belt. "I'm sorry about that."
"It's fine. It beats falling to my death by a long shot." Escutcheon tried to sound like it was nothing despite the throbbing pain. "I don't know how much more rain I can take. I really hope that we're almost there, ow."
"Sorry." Tilda looked back to the colt and the south. "I was just distracted." After a few minutes Escutcheon climbed back onto her back and the two headed back into the storm fighting their way to the south, and the eye of the eternal storm.