There is no life within the Crystal Mountain Range. Between the warmth of Equestria and the oasis of the Crystal Empire, there is nothing between the towering, snow-covered mountain range that stretches east to west. All year long, temperatures are always kept at a freezing rate – even in the summer months, the temperature never goes above to the point of thawing. Some consider this stretch of land as some of the loneliest places in the world as there is nothing up there except snow, rock, and wind.
The terrain is dangerous enough. Before the railroad, it would take ponies months to cross, and at great risk to themselves from starvation, hypothermia, or simply getting lost in the vale of eternal winter. But despite all the dangers attached to the border of Equestria and the Crystal Empire, there were some brave thrill seekers who are attracted to the isolation and adventure.
If anything, it was the very reason that this pure snow upon its mountainsides that attracted skiers as they provided a challenge among the unmarked territory. Such was the case for a group of friends that decided to spend their vacation among the slopes of the icy wilderness. They had gathered enough bits to rent a small cabin for a week and brought enough supplies to last them for three times that amount.
There were four of these ponies that had gotten off the lonely rail stop that was sandwiched between the Snowflake Pass. They gathered their supplies together, latched themselves to their toboggans to carry everything they had, and began to follow the trail of red flags upward. Of course, each one was prepared from the thick coats to the heavy food supply as they made their trek – while the snowstorm limited their vision from one flag to the next.
“How long will it be until we get to the cabin?” Asked a tall, yellow Pegasus stallion who the other three looked back to him.
“If I’m right, Golden,” the dark blue mare, Frost Trail said as she took out the map from underneath her wing, “it shouldn’t be that far away. Probably about half-an-hour or so if I have to guess. It shouldn’t be a long way from the station we got off from as it’s just up the mountain.” She folded the map back up just as the wind started to pick up. “In the meantime, we should keep going before our water freezes over.”
As they continued on, another mare, a green earth pony wondered aloud to the one that’s leading them: “So I take it that you’ve been here before?”
“Only once,” Frost told her. “Just remember that I haven’t been here since I was a teenager, Sprout. However, I do have fond memories of sledding down these slopes, especially when it was a clear day when the wind isn’t blowing a blizzard in your face.”
“Speaking of which.” The stallion between Golden and Sprout, a bright red unicorn called out. “Does anypony know when the weather should be good?”
“That’s what the weather reports said, Heat,” Frost said. “It’s supposed to be like this until after midnight tonight. But otherwise, the next couple of days should be a good deal calmer to ski. Still, given how unpredictable this side of Equestria can be, it doesn’t hurt to be prepared for the worst-case scenario. Trust me, in these mountains, things rarely go right if you don’t know what to expect.”
Through the blast of bitterly cold air that slapped against their faces with the falling snow nearly blinding them, they pressed on as they went from one red flag to the next. They climbed up steep and shallow slopes that took them higher up into the frigid air until they finally came across the lone cabin with the sharp angled roof. By the time they got to the front door, it was already covered halfway in the snow, so the four ponies had to dig their way in. After spending a good ten minutes to budge the door open, the four of them stumbled through the dark and cold cabin.
There wasn’t much from the wooden cabin as it had only the bare essentials such as an iron stove, a table with two rows of benches, a fireplace with a pile of kindling, a bathroom with enough room for a toilet and a sink, and on the second floor, only four quilted beds.
“My, this place is real homey, isn’t it?” Heat sarcastically commented as he closed the door.
“It’s not supposed to be a high-end hotel,” Frost said as she began to construct a fire from the hearth. “This place only gives what’s necessary to live out here. Besides, I’ve already brought some cards to occupy our time between meals and skiing. But for now, we should keep warm, and eat until tomorrow. That is, as long as the weather is agreeable.”
“Still, I can’t wait.” Sprout smiled as she took some of the firewood to put into the stove. “It’s really exciting to ski here. The snow is the purest and untouched that I’ve ever seen. No crowds around. No limitations. I can’t wait when we get out there tomorrow.”
“Hey as long as there’s excitement going on,” Heat Blaze said as he plotted near the growing fire in the hearth, “I’m pretty much game for anything.”
Golden looked out the only window that was near the door. “Is this really the only cabin-”
“The nearest neighbor we have is a good fifty miles away,” Frost replied. “Which means that although we’ll have some fun going down these slopes, we can’t get too cocky because the train only comes here once at noon if you flag it down. Sure, I brought my first aid kit, but if things get serious… well, it’ll just screw things up. But besides the train and somepony coming by to restock the kindling once a month... Yeah, we’re pretty much on our own at this point.”
The next day, the wind and the foggy snow had died down enough to where the four of them were able to see the landscape as it was. They found that above where their cabin was, there was plenty of room to ski from that was smooth while having a few places to jump from. However, they also noticed that the flagged trail they came up from was a maze of rocks, sharp cliffs, and a nearly completely uneven surface that could be proven lethal without the well-placed markers to guide them down.
However, they did manage to have a fun day on the upper half of the mountain. By the time that sunlight was setting, they returned to the cabin to set their coats up to dry while they sat near the fireplace.
“I think we can all agree that was the best ski trip ever.” Sprout said, and the others agreed. “And you all got to give Goldie here for having such a knack at it.”
“Oh stop…” the golden stallion whined, waving a hoof, “I kept falling down a few times.”
“Really?” Heat raised an eyebrow. “Did you not see the rest of us tumbling over into a mini avalanche?”
“But I get what Sprout is saying.” Frost pointed out. “For being a first timer, you were able to pick up skiing rather quickly. That’s something to be proud of.”
“W-Well I gu-” Golden was about to say but was quickly interrupted.
“So, what are you gonna do while dinner is cooking?” The Heat looked over to the stove. “We’ve got a good hour or so. While we’re still getting dry-ish.”
“Ooh! Ooh!” Sprout exclaimed. “We could tell ghost stories.” The others looked at one another. Seeing that there was nothing better to do anyway, they all thought that it would give the rest of them some entertainment.
“So, who’s going first?” Frost asked.
“Well, actually I-” Golden started but was interrupted.
“How about the story I’ve heard about a haunted asylum?” Sprout raised a hoof excitedly.
“Well, I have-”
“I know the one about a silent movie that made a guy disappear,” Frost interjected, not taking notice of Golden.
“Guys I-”
“Those are nothing,” Heatwave a dismissal hoof while rolling his eyes, “I got a story about how a kid in Ponyville used an ax to kill of his par-”
“GUYS!” Golden snapped at them, in which all three ponies now took notice of him. After taking a calming breath, he resumed. “I was going to say that I’ve brought with me some stories that I think you guys would be interested in because of how dark they are.”
“You brought a book?” Frost questioned.
“Well… I pretty much have to. It’s for a literature class, but I’ve come across some seriously messed up stuff while I was reading it. Here, I’ll go get it.” After getting up and disappearing into the second floor, he returned with the thick green, gilded book.
“‘The Complete Brothers Grimm Fairytales?’” Heat raised an eyebrow. “You had to read fairytales for a college class?”
“Yeah, I won’t lie,” Golden said as he plopped down between them, “I was rather skeptical too. But after reading a few of these, original stories, they’re really messed up. My professor said that these stories were designed to scare the foals into learning good morals. I mean, it’s got the original twisted endings like both the step-sisters and mother were decapitated by the prince in Cindershy. Or how Hansel and Gretel’s step-mother sent them into the woods to die because there wasn’t enough food to go around.”
“Seriously?” Frost asked.
“And that’s the thing. There are dozens of these stories that, although teach a moral, they are super dark, even for foals I think. But what interested me was that there are lesser-known stories that were forgotten over time.”
“Like what?” Sprout inquired.
“Mind if I read you all just one? If anything, the setting is within the Crystal Mountains.”
“This I gotta hear.” Heat commented.
Golden flipped through the pages of the book in which he began to read:
The Wendigo
There was once upon a time poor but modest family who lived in a cottage that was between a bright forest and the icy Crystal Mountains. In this cottage lived a mother, a father, and their twin children. The colt was called Wolfgang, and the filly was called Hannah. While the father would chop threes to collect firewood to sell to the market, the mother would be busy cooking whatever scraps of food she could find and turn it into a feast for the four of them.
The children would often play outside of the cottage to play games they invent while their father was away. Although the mother did not mind, she has given them two simple rules that they must obey at all times.
“Do not stray away out of sight of the house.” Their mother would say. “And never go up to the mountains without me or your father.”
The twins were good and so they obeyed these simple rules.
Then, on a cold winter’s day as the two foals played while the snow came down heavily, the children heard a voice coming from the mountainside.
“Children! My children! Come up to the mountain with me! For I have something wondrous to show thee!”
The children paused. This was surely their mother’s voice, but neither of them could see her anywhere. So they called out where she was and the voice repeated the same as before.
“Children! My Children! Come up to the mountain with me! For I have something wondrous to show thee!”
Not wanting to disobey their mother, the two children turned towards the chilled rocky mountainside in which they began to climb. However, as they did so, they couldn’t see any sign of their mother except for her voice that calls out to them.
As they helped one another up the mountain, the children began to wonder what their mother could be doing up here in such merciless cold. “Perhaps she has found a cave of gold.” Said, Wolfgang. “One so large that we shall never be poor again!”
“Or maybe,” thought Hannah aloud, “that she has found a hot spring where we shall be kept warm through the winter.”
The voice of their mother beckoned them to climb further up until eventually, they came across a dark cave. Even when they tried to peer through, it was so dark that they could not make out anything, not even their mother. And yet, they still heard her voice, clear as a bell, coming from the abyss of the cave.
“Come forth my children!” Exclaimed the voice. “I must show you something quite marvelous!”
And so, holding hooves, the brother and sister step forward, walking blindly into the darkness. It became so dark that they could not see one another. With each step they took, the air became as cold as death, more than the outside. Then, when they could not even see the light of the entrance, they then started to hear something snapping with every step they took. They told each other that they must be walking on sticks as they crunched and crackled underneath them.
“Mother?” Asked Hannah. “Where are you?”
“Just a little closer.” The two children paused. While it was indeed the voice of their mother that echoed off the cavern walls, there was something not quite right with it, as if another was whispering loudly at the same time she spoke.
“Why are you in the dark?” Wolfgang asked.
“Take another step forward, and you will see why.”
And so, the children obeyed. They suddenly felt a thin foreleg being wrapped around them before being pressed up against something that was as cold as ice. Neither child could get out of its tight grasp when suddenly, a candle was lit in which the foals let out a shriek. They were in the foreleg of a creature who was very tall and lean, with a coat of ice and a face that was long but dreadfully no more than skin and bone. It had antlers made of ice with glowing red eyes. The children screamed, not only because they were in the forelegs of a wendigo, but the floor of the cave was a carpet of bones.
“You should have heeded the warning to never come up my mountain, children.” The creature said, with a voice of winter itself. “At least now I shall have my dinner.” Thus, with a touch of its hoof, the terrified children were turned into ice statues. With them petrified, the wendigo began to feast upon their frost-covered flesh until nothing remained of them except for their bones.
So, take heed of this tale, children. Be aware of those who pretend to be those who you love. For if they make you stray from home or wish evil upon you, then you may walk into the forehooves of the Wendigo.
Golden looked up from his book at the other three ponies that stared at him.
“They actually read this to children?” Frost asked.
“Like I said,” Golden closed the book, “it’s not exactly a well-known story.”
“I can see why.” Said Heat. “I don’t know if I would read it to my kid if I had one.”
“Might be enough to give young foals nightmares.” Sprout commented. “I mean… the wendigo here is a whole lot darker than the Hearth's Warming tale.”
“You have to remember,” Golden pointed out, “is that stories, like fairy tales, tend to be rewritten over time to suit audiences tastes. But that’s pretty much what I got. So what about all of you then?”
For the next few days, the four ponies repeated this day of skiing, followed up by resting next to the warm fire for a few stories to tell. But on the day that they meant to make their departure back down the mountain, the clouds gathered with the wind blowing harshly with heavy clumps of snow coming down like snowballs from the sky. On that morning, Frost once again leads the way, using the markers of the bright red flags to guide them.
But as they began to make their way down through the maze of rock and snow, they realize that they couldn’t see the next marker. To this, Frost forced them to stop. “Wait,” she said holding up a blue wing, “something’s not right… where’s the next marker?”
As much as the other three tried to peer through the veil of snow, they could not see much, not even a shadow of a waving flag. Besides the snow and dark rocks that dotted nearby, everything around them was completely white.
“Where is it?” Heat asked.
“I can’t see anything,” Golden said.
“Which way do we go?” Sprout called out.
But for a moment, Frost wasn’t exactly sure herself. However, taking out a long line of rope, she went over to the previous marker to tie it and herself to each end. “I’m gonna go out and look for it. Since each marker is placed about a stone’s throw away, I think I should be able to find it. Maybe the flag had ripped off and the pole is probably still there nearby. Now all of you stay right here, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
And so, the three other ponies watched as Frost disappeared into the cloud of white. At first, the rope went straight ahead until it became tight. Then it moved this way and that too where it went into the opposite direction. Then came Frost as she emerged back in their sights.
“Oh Celestia, don’t tell me…” Heat said but the sigh from their leader confirmed their worst fears.
“Yep. We’re stuck up here.”
“Are you kidding me?” Golden objected. “You didn’t find anything?”
“Not even a pole. Either it’s been buried in the snow or something had broken it off because I couldn’t find a thing, even with me flying around.”
The three other ponies were shocked at this revelation. “But…” Sprout spoke up. “What if we use our other ropes so you could-”
“That’s beside the point.” Frost interrupted. “If one marker has gone missing, who’s to say that others are too? We cannot go any further down until we know for absolute certainty where we’re going. You all saw what it looks like from above, one wrong turn could send us tumbling over. I’m sorry everypony, but until the weather clears up, we’re getting off this mountain.”
“But…” Golden objected, “my classes, I have to get-”
“No, you don’t get it.” Frost snapped at him. “Us getting down safely from this mountain is more important than your college courses. I’m sorry, but until we know where we’re going, there’s nothing we can do but wait. Besides, we’ve all prepared for this. We have enough food to last us a couple more weeks. And by then, the weather should be clear enough to see. For now, we have to turn back.”
Several days went by where the four of them waited in the cabin. The constant white noise of the arctic wind blew on relentlessly. Every so often, snow had to be removed from the front door to prevent from being snowed in. However, despite keeping warm, eating and sleeping, there was very little for any of them to do except wait. Wait for the thick veil of winter to be lifted again. But as the days went by, it became evident that it might not come to pass for a very long time.
Golden had his spot on the second floor, wrapped in a blanket, facing towards the blank canvas of a window. His ears listening to the ebb and flow of the wind against the cabin as it creaked. Beside him on the bed was a bowl of half-eaten stew – the same kind that he had yesterday, and the day before.
Eventually, Sprout came up to the second floor. “I wanted to see how you’re doing.” She said.
“I’m fine,” Golden muttered.
“Are you done with the stew?” He nudged the bowl away in which picked it up with her hoof. Before she left, she heard him adding: “Could you make something else?”
“Huh?”
“I mean… Not that I don’t like your cooking, but just to have stew day in and day out is rather… repetitive. Is it possible for you to make something else?”
“We have a limited supply as it is. We don’t have anything like flour or sugar to make some like bread or cake. There’re only cans of veggies and plenty of water. If I could make something else, I would.” She tried to hug him, but he blocked her with a wing.
“You don’t have to baby me, you know.”
“Hey, I’m just trying to look after everyone here. I know it hasn’t been easy on any of us, but I’m sure that we’ll get off the mountain sooner or later. I’m just trying to keep everyone’s spirits up.”
Golden adjusted his blanked. “I just… want to be alone right now.”
With a nod, she left the second floor. Leaving the yellow Pegasus to listen to the whispering of the wind.
Days later and the blizzard still hasn’t cleared up, Sprout returned to the ground floor with a bowl of full but cold stew. “I’m starting to get worried guys.”
The other three looked over to her. “How so?” Frost asked as she placed a card down on the table across from Heat Blaze.
“He hasn’t eaten in two days now.” She said as she placed the bowl into the sink. “I can’t figure out why he refuses to eat all of a sudden. I tried giving him the stew, even what few energy bars I had in my bag, but it’s all gone untouched.”
Heat raised an eyebrow. “That is pretty weird.”
“That’s not even the half of it, even with all the food being set right in front of him, he refuses to eat while complaining that he’s hungry.”
“Did Golden turn into an anorexic?” Heat asked without thinking
“Heat!” Frost scolded, “That’s not something to joke about.”
“Sorry, but what can I say? We’re a stressful situation in which I have to rely on my humor as a defense mechanism.” After placing a card down, Heat added. “Besides, I do get that he’s our newest friend and this is his first skiing trip – but can you blame me when we don’t know when we’re getting off the mountain?”
Frost sighed. “Look, I get it. If I had any idea where to go, I’d probably pick everypony here and fly down to the station. But since I haven’t been here in years and there’s a blinding blizzard outside, I might as well fly blindfolded.”
“But what should we do with Goldie?” Sprout asked. “Clearly something is wrong.”
“I…” The blue Pegasus shrugged defeatedly. “I wish I knew. Perhaps, for now, we should just keep him company. That last thing we want right now is for anypony to go mad.”
Even though moved to the ground floor where everypony could see him, Golden still insisted of sitting in front of the window towards the monotonous snow. And even still, his ration of food had gone untouched. It seemed that the yellow Pegasus was more focused on listening to the wind than the conversations of his friends – or his health for that matter. With each passing hour and passing day, the stallion seemed to wither away. The fat and even the muscle of his appearance seemed to slowly shrink right before his friend’s eyes. As if he was becoming a living skeleton the longer time passed. Especially when his constantly empty stomach was screaming in agony at him to fill it with something – anything to ease the pain.
One day, Frost walked up to him with a bowl of cold stew by his side. “You have got to eat something Golden.”
“No thanks.” He said in a soft voice.
With a grumpy moan, she marched over to fetch her bowl that was still warm, came back with a spoon in her wing and trusted the broth into his mouth in which he spat out.
“Golden, this is getting ridiculous! If you don’t eat something soon, you’re going to die!”
The stallion, at last, looked up to her with shrunken eyes. “You don’t think I know that?” He asked barely above a whisper. “Of course, I want to eat. I couldn’t think of anything else for the past week or so.”
“Then why in Celestia’s name don’t you?!”
At first, Golden didn’t respond as the cabin became silent except for the wind outside.
“Just… not that.” He gestured a weak hoof to the cold bowl. “It’s become disgusting to me that I just can’t eat it. I know you all want to help me, but… I’ve been craving something else that we don’t have here. Something more… robust… something hearty… something… cold.”
“What?”
“Huh?” Golden blinked. “Sorry… what did I say?”
“You wanted something cold?”
He looked up with confusion. “Did I say that? Why would I say that?”
Frost puts a hoof to his forehead and froze. “Celestia, you’re freezing. Crap this isn’t good…”
By now the other two ponies approached her. “What is it?” Sprout asked.
The blue Pegasus meditated over the harsh predicament for a moment. “Guys… I think we need to get him to a hospital. If he doesn’t get any food or something nutritious soon, he’s going to die.”
“What do we do?” Heat questioned. “The blizzard still hasn’t lent up, and you said so yourself that it’s dangerous going out–”
“I know what I said,” Frost said sternly. “But right now, Golden’s life is in serious danger. I don’t know why he doesn’t want to eat, but if I allow continuing this any further, he might not be alive tomorrow.” Suddenly, with a determined look, she began marching towards the stairs. “I must get him onto that train.”
Heat and Sprout looked at each other, not know what exactly to say until Golden spoke. “I’m afraid.”
The green mare nuzzled him. “It’s gonna be okay, Goldie.”
He shook his head. “No… Not that… I’m afraid of what the wind is telling me. What I… want to do but… I really don’t want to.”
Both ponies turned pale. “Dude…” Heat said with caution. “What are you talking about.”
At first, the yellow Pegasus didn’t respond as he looked down at his foreleg. “Have you ever wondered… what… tasting a foreleg, or your withers or anything else would be like?” Suddenly, he put two hooves against his forehead with a disgusted look. “I know, I know it’s a sick idea. I don’t want to do something like that. But… each day it just gets harder. And that curiosity… that craving is just getting stronger. But I don’t want to…”
“Then don’t.” Sprout said, patting his back. “You are much stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
“Let’s get you into your coat.” Frost cut in with Golden’s winter coat while wearing her own. “I’m gonna try to fly you over to the station.”
“I thought you said it was risky.” Heat pointed out.
“It is. But given his condition, we don’t have much of a choice.”
Despite all the years of experience and survival training, Frost knew that she was taking up a very big risk. Guided with only a compass and her memory, she carried the weak stallion on her back as she flew blindly into the snow, even though it was almost noon. Every direction she looked, it was as if she was flying through a void of white, all the while the wind swirled around and changed direction without warning. As much as she tried to fly in a straight line, even using a compass, she wasn’t exactly sure where she was.
At the same time, she had trouble keeping Golden on her back. Not because he was heavy, as he became so skinny that he was light to carry. Rather, because he was so weak that his forelegs that were wrapped around her barely held on, so she had to have one hoof on her compass and the other to try to keep him there.
“C’mon, where is it?” Frost muttered while the wind roared in her face. “It can’t be this far off.”
Her ears thought that it picked up Golden muttering something, but she couldn’t exactly tell. Everything was disorienting. She didn’t know how high she was if she was going straight or curving off course. Even when squinting her eyes among the flurry of snowflakes, she could see nothing but a blank canvas of white. And then, without warning, a gust of strong wind hit her like a dragon where she found herself spinning out of control. Her senses went into overdrive as she was trying to make out which way was up as her wings flung this way and that.
And then, there was a sudden, skull-cracking thud. Golden was tossed aside into a snow bank, his mind trying to process what had just happened. For a long time, nothing but the wind remained silent. Even the weak stallion wasn’t sure how long he lay there in the snow. However, when he did get up, he saw the vivid color of dark red splattered upon the white snow and the black rock. It was as if he was looking at a minimal painting in which the center of it was the slumped corpse of his friend with her head bashed in.
Part of Golden was too shocked to speak. He was horrified that the one that has guided them all this time and had the most experience in the wilderness was dead. That from here, he had no hope of getting off the mountain or back to the cabin alive.
At the same time… there was another part of him, a primal roar in his ears and in his stomach that demanded to do the only thing that would help him survive.
Eat.
Slowly, Golden got up and stripped himself of that hot, sweaty overcoat into the cool air with that welcoming snow towards the body. As much as part of him was horrified of what he was about to do, he was so hungry. So empty. And the frosted flesh of the mare seemed… inviting.
He lifted up an iced foreleg and whispering an apology to Frost from what little-civilized part of him that was dying – he took a bite. And another… And another… And another…
Night had fallen on the mountain, and still, there was no sign of Frost returning to the cabin. Heat and Sprout could do nothing but wait by the fire. Wrapped in blankets, they silently worrying about what was taking their friend so long and if she managed to find the station.
“What if she’s not coming back?” Heat asked.
“Oh, don’t think like that.” Sprout patted his back. “This is Frost we’re talking about. She’s been in worst situations before and I’m sure that she’ll come back here anytime now.”
“Yeah…” The stallion adjusted his blanket. “If only we knew where she is right now.”
Then, a moment later, their ears picked up something above the wind outside. At first, neither of them could make out what it was. But bit by bit, they realized they were hearing a voice.
“Help! Heat! Sprout! Help me!”
Heat instantly got up. “That’s Frost!” Grabbing Sprout by the hoof, he dragged her to fetch their winter clothes. “We’ve gotta help her!”
The two of them rushed to put on their hats, overcoats, and scarves before galloping outside into the night, armed with nothing except a pair of lanterns.
“Frost!” Heat screamed. “Frost! Where are you?!”
“Come here.”
So, into the frigid night, they began to head down the mountain. They would call out their friend’s name in which the only reply was to “Come here.” But as they got closer to the source of the voice, there was something… off about it. While it did sound like Frost’s voice, every time they heard, “Come here” it was getting slower and… deeper with each call.
At one point, into the maze of cliffs and slopes, Sprout stopped Heat. “Wait!” She pointed her lantern off to the side. “What’s that?”
Her light touched a figure in the darkness. Heat cast his lantern on it too as the two got closer. And when they were able to make it out what it was, they gasped in horror. There is a shallow grave of snow was what remained of Frost. For they found there among the overcoat that was torn off of her, that what remained of her was nothing but a pile of blood-soaked bones.
“Oh Celestia!” Sprout screamed, and her voice echoed in the night.
“What happened to her?” Heat asked in a state of shock. “W-Wait… If she’s here… Who was calling for help?”
“Come here.” Both of them froze as they heard Frost’s voice again. This time, it was coming from behind them. Then, in Golden’s voice, it added: “And allow me to feast.”
Heat screamed as he felt something stabbed his cutie mark before the icy feeling spread throughout his body – freezing him into place.
Sprout quickly turned around and she too screamed as she saw the pony she knew as Golden… and at the same time, it also wasn’t him… to be behind her. His coat had become a ghostly pale yellow to the point that it was nearly white. He somehow became unnaturally taller that seemed to tower over her. Yet, the face of Golden looked demonic with a longer face that held a skeletal, bloodstained grin, antlers of ice that pointed down like spears at her. But the worst of all, was the eyes as they were corpse-like blue.
The last thing that went through her mind as the creature froze her over with a jab of his antler before turning to her petrified friend to begin feasting was a single word. One that knew what Golden had now become, upon the slopes of the lonely Crystal Mountains.
Wendigo.