//------------------------------// // Fourth Stop: Ever Climbing // Story: Journey: North // by AppleTank //------------------------------// Blankets were rolled up, food stored, and bag straps tightened. The companions made sure their heavy winter cloths were wrapped up tightly, then stepped back into the stinging flakes of ice. They reached the back of the outpost in short time, it appeared the weather had calmed down just the slightest bit. Once they left, they were faced with a narrow pass that they could barely see through the constant fog as it curved upwards. The griffon glanced down at the petite pony. “?” The pony nodded, eyes narrowed, and stepped onto the cracked stones that marked the path. The griffon sighed and followed after her. The walls pressed claustrophobically towards her, and the winds stabbed tiny needles of ice as it pulsed through the valley. She gave a wistful glance at the skies above, but an even harsher blizzard stormed above, ending the thought to get there even if they were able to get their wings out unfrozen. After pushing through the winds, they were met with a opening into another ghost town. The pair was about to step forwards when the griffon suddenly darted forwards and pulled the pony back into the shadows of the pass, a talon muffling her muzzle. “!!!” “!?” the pony asked, looking into the griffon’s frightened eyes. Then the unearthly howls began, sending shivers down both of their spines. They cautiously peeked out of the shadows, and saw furious red eyes soaring in the clouds above. Every so often one would swoop down, searching through the ruins, and screeching when they found nothing. Fingers of ice blossomed at their ethereal hooves as they soared back into the raging winds. Once they were mostly sure the demons were distracted. They darted towards the closest piece of rubble, a partly snowed in chunk of hallway, and crouched underneath it. The pony carefully made to peek out, but was suddenly smothered by the griffon’s talon, holding her down. The pony grunted irritably as the griffon squinted through the cracks in the concrete, back shivering. Ten minutes passed before the griffon felt safe enough to let the pony go, and they quickly darted to a partly collapsed doorway, having to lie flat just to squeeze underneath the door-frame. They repeated this process over and over, darting a few feet to find another chunk of rubble to hide under. An hour later, the griffon poked her head out from underneath a fallen tower. The pony pushed at her wing, squeaking unhappily. The griffon hissed in fear, but exit to the pass was only a hop and skip away. They rushed to the door, the griffon watching the skies with fear. The pony pulled at the gate’s latch. Parts frozen solid forced her to buck them until they shattered loose. She pushed against the door with her shoulder, her hooves digging into the snow as she forced through rusted hinges and piled up snow to get it to open. She turned around to call out to her companion-- Gilda blinked blearily from where she had been slammed into the snow. Her head throbbed from where it had bounced off a piece of rubble. The rest of her body was starting to chill from the snow piling on her. Why was she half buried in the snow? Shaky limbs lifted herself out of the snow, and she turned around. Her muffled scream was quietly swallowed. She stumbled through snow drifts and picked up the shivering mare. “Dash! DASH! Come on, wake up! Please....” Chunks of ice clung to the mare’s fabrics, and pale eyes stared into nothing. “...not again...” The gate was open. Gilda balanced the pony on her back the best she could, and darted through before the wraiths would think about darting down again. There was another narrow mountain pass, and Gilda ran as quickly as she dared. “Hold on,” she wheezed. “Almost ... there.” She exited the pass and ate a beakful of icy winds. She squawked in protest before she was able to pull her head down and resume struggling upwards. The mountain top was growing blinding. Her last friend wasn't moving. Gilda spun Rainbow Dash off her back and attempted to shield the paling petite body. “Stay with me, please,” she begged. “I can't do this without you.” A trembling hoof briefly brushed against Gilda's breast. “Maybe ... you deserved to be Loyalty?” she whispered through blued lips. Gilda's goggles fogged. “Not without you,” she breathed, clutching the quieting pony to her body. The glow of the mountain stung her blurring vision even while staring blankly at the cool body between her arms. ... ... ... A blast of heat blew her scarf’s tail behind her, fluttering. Gilda growled. “What took you?”