The mists parted only because I was bursting through them. Solid rock and bouldery mountains lingered just beyond every wisp of gray fog. I flew furiously forward through the miasma, sweeping and diving and banking through the ravine.
The air was cold, thin, laced with frots from the gathered snowpeaks. I shivered, yet till it wasn't enough to numb me to the trailing dizziness collecting on the edges of my consciousness. I clenched my teeth and beat my wings faster, spiraling over sharp, jagged spires of stone. There was no sound, save for the echoing murmur of my breath as I skimmed polished cliff faces and slanted plateaus.
This place was strange to me; I had to turn my flight into a haphazard zig-zag, accomodating for the sudden twists and turns in the broken topography. I hadn't ever flown out this far beyond the Canterlot Mountains. It was exciting, but not exciting enough.
I flew faster.
The blood in my capillaries pulsed. I felt the ends of my hooves tingling. My tail whipped in the wind, making lashing sounds like a flag being pulled taut. I briefly feared that the appendage might come off, but then I figured that I would just fly on without it. So much of me had been lost already, torn off by the whims of fate and chaos. What tragedy would it have been if I lost another limb, an ear, or a tooth? I'd still be the same piece of meat underneath itself, collared by the same magical charm that ended everything, everything that mattered, everything but me.
I flapped my wings until I couldn't feel them anymore. I felt popping stabs of pain; blue feathers flew loose in my peripheral vision. I merely accelerated, angling my body as I came upon a steep, foggy ravine banking towards the north.
I threaded violently through the curve, my body twisting against the centrifigual forces that tore at my skin. All I saw was mist and blurring rock. My eyes threatened to close shut against the frigid winds. I fought tears and threw myself into the rest of the turn.
Then I met pure rock.
Gasping, I shot straight up. The hairs of my nose grazed stone, and soon I was spiraling up along a mess of craggy stone that formed the dead end of the curved ravine. Several shards of rock jutted out, and I couldn't slow myself in time to avoid them. I spun my body and hugged my legs to my chest. I somehow managed to squeeze through a pair of sharp spikes, soaring like a bottlerocket beyond.
I emerged through the top of the ravine with a burst of misty clouds. Evening out, I flapped my exhausted wings a few more times and landed to a skidding stop on a flat slab of gravel. I stood still, panting, my body doused with a sheen of sweat.
Gulping, I turned and looked behind me. The mist was still coalescing from the fresh swath my body had made in it. There was a hushed murmur through the ravine as the displaced air of my flight filled itself back up, and soon all was once more blissfully silent.
My heart was racing; my eyes twitched with each beat. I heard a rhythmic noise, soft at first, but then rising like the pitter patter of lizard feet. I was laughing, chuckling even. My voice cracked several times as I slumped down to my haunches and stared out beyond the mountains and mountains surrounding me.
I took a deep inhale, and when I recovered, there was no more laughter. However, a sound still came out. I looked into the emptiness, and the emptiness looked back. My breaths came out in shudders; my eyes went cloudy. Finally, my heart slowed to a normal pace, but by then it was too late. I had caught up with myself.
Limply, I laid myself down, buried my face into my forelimbs, and cried into the abyss.