Where the Cold Comes From

by Motorbreath

First published

Heavy snowstorm catches a group of ponies away from civilization, and while the adults are doing their best to fend away the elements, the foals decide to figure it out on their own. But only one is destined to discover where the cold comes from.

A heavy snowstorm traps a group of ponies in a tiny hamlet far away from any civilization, and while the adults are doing their best to fend off the elements and ration the quckly fading supplies, the foals decide to go out of bounds and figure it out on their own. But only one of them will be able to find out where the cold comes from.

Cover art by the one and only, the amazing SkyAircobra (DeviantArt I Patreon)
Whole lot of thanks to Karibela for initially hunting away the typos, misspellings and other various ineptitudes of mine.
Whole lot if awe to the glorious Schattendrache, that scalded my broken english into submission with his shadowy flame.
And even more salutations and fanfare go to The Red Parade, that improved my prose even further! Hurray!
And, of course, thanks to you, if you intend to pay it any attention ;)

Will You Dare To Follow?

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It was dark and cold up there in the attic, so the little colt glanced back at the stairs for one last time – he could see the flickering light coming from the fireplace below and feel the warmth gently flowing up with it. The fire was still faintly crackling, almost beckoning him to go back...

The little pony sighed, ruffling himself up before burying his head deeper into his scarf, and then punched the wooden cap out of the attic window. The square pallet of nailed wood meant to keep wind from blowing into his house tumbled out and immediately thumped onto the snow not too far below him.

Shivering from the icy wind, the colt quickly shoved his last free leg into a snowshoe, grabbing its cord with his teeth, and tightened it up. Through the newly opened vent, he was able to see the familiar landscape. Pale, purple-tinted skies were hanging low over the white desert as far as he could see through the dusty, stinging snow endlessly rushing all around. He was never able to recognize anything past that: in just a dozen yards, everything was already dissolving in the scattering whiteness. The little colt could only hear the subtle, but firm and unresting howling of the wind.

As the colt poked his head outside, he saw the owner’s house. It was also buried in the snow, but unlike the guest houses and utility buildings with only their roofs still recognizable beneath the heavy white coverings, the owner house’s second floor was still sticking out of the snow and overlooking the white fields. To the little colt’s right was the cleared path connecting his house to the others.

All the shutters in the owner’s house had been closed long ago: not a single ray of light coming out, nobody at the windows. Just the howling of the wind ripping the thin lines of smoke from the chimneys, only to carry them far into the unknown.

The little colt looked down at the wooden cap right below him. His house was covered nearly to the roof, so the cap sunk into the snow only just a bit. The most dangerous part was awaiting him right now: to get out there without breaking his snowshoes, and most importantly, without ending up buried in the deep snow. He wouldn’t be able to get out on his own and there was nobody around to help him.

The colt moved outside even further, carefully placing one snowshoed hoof on the improvised wooden platform in the snow. He was still feeling very awkward and heavy due to all the clothes he was wearing and the wiry wooden frames tied to his hoofs. The platform didn’t budge, so he put his weight onto it and moved another hoof.

Suddenly, the platform sank.

The colt froze up and squinted as the powdery ground rushed towards him.

One second and a shaky breath later, the colt opened his eyes.

The platform had barely even moved – a couple of inches maybe – and he was still standing on it. At least, his front hooves were: because of that shift, his rear legs, which were still within the attic, now ended up much higher – to the point that his muzzle was almost poking the snow. He gathered himself, and with extreme caution, moved his hind legs onto the platform – one hoof at a time and with great difficulty, as both snowshoes kept stubbornly getting stuck in the window frame. But at least the wooden platform under his front legs didn’t budge any more, and he was soon able to make his first step. The snow gave in at first, but just slightly, and then he was able to find a hoofhold.

The colt took another step, quickly realizing that the main thing was to not get hasty – it was never too late to misstep and dive head first into the snow.

But it was already too late to turn back.




Dull, white light was pouring through the window. The little colt yawned and shuddered after kicking off his blanket: it was cold inside without a fire in the hearth. He walked to the kitchen but found it was empty – the only things moving were the shadows cast by the snowflakes falling on the other side of the window. At that moment, the pony felt a sharp sense of unease, though he couldn’t exactly tell why.

He trotted to the hall, and after hurriedly putting on a scarf, ran outside. Overnight, the snow had covered everything in a smooth white coating, and was showing no signs of stopping. It was coming down so heavily that, in this smother, the owner’s house was now just a pale silhouette, despite only being about ten yards away.

And even though there wasn’t any wind, the little colt was already shivering.

He rushed from his door towards the owner’s house across the snowy path and hesitantly pulled the brace with his hoof. The door moved, allowing the warm air to escape, washing him with sounds of a busy household. The little colt dove in, allowing the door to close behind him.

He found himself in a roomy, brightly illuminated hall with walls and floors made up of wooden panels; right in front of him was a wide stairway heading to an upper floor and a couple of doorways along the walls.

The little pony froze in confusion – he felt out of bounds here.

Then, before he even knew it, hoofsteps could be heard from his right. The white pegasus mare that came out of the door on that side was obviously in a hurry, but stopped abruptly upon noticing him.

“Oh! And... you must have come for breakfast?”

He nodded slowly.

“Well, don’t worry. The other foals already ate, but I think there’s still enough left for you.”

The mare quickly turned around and vanished through the same door she just appeared from:

“Come.”

He followed.

A few minutes later, the little colt moved his empty plate aside:

“Thanks.”

The mare stopped washing dishes and approached him:

“Done already?”

“Yes. It was very good.”

The food was in fact very good, but something was still bothering him. It felt like a heartrending nightmare that he could not exactly recall after waking up...

The mare just looked at him for a good moment without saying anything.

“Well, you can go now.”

The little colt climbed down from the bench before asking his own question. “Go where?”

The white mare looked at him again – this time in confusion:

“The other foals are in the playroom.”

He didn’t move.

“Up the stairs and to the right?” – she added.

The little colt nodded and went towards the door. A couple seconds later, clattering and the splashing of water could be heard behind him once again.

As he started to carefully climb the stairs, he couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place. He didn’t know how to describe it, but gazing at the ornate wooden floor downstairs, the pictures hanging along the staircase, and the huge chandelier with a multitude of candles crowning it and illuminating all of this splendor, the pony was still feeling like an intruder. But he was somewhat relieved by the muffled voices of other foals and the sounds of them playing.

And yet still, after making it to the second floor, he found himself idly looking at the carpeted pathway under his hoofs. And when he finally lifted his head and glanced to the left, he faced with a frown.

The deep blue pegasus stallion didn’t say anything, he just huffed calmly and angled his head a bit.

“Um. Hello.” – the little colt started.

But the pegasus just kept eyeing him down without saying anything, without even blinking. The little colt nodded and turned away. He could clearly hear the voices of foals coming from behind the door at the end of the hallway, so he moved towards it as fast as he could without actually running. And all the way there he could still feel the stare of the deep blue stallion on the back of his head.

That stare made him want to disappear.

***

“Go scoop some more snow!” – Glide shouted.

“You scoop it! My hooves are already freezing.” Summer Breeze squeezed into the snow fort past his fellow pegasus before beginning to prance on its stamped down floor, showing off his dire condition.

The blue pegasus didn’t buy it:

“Settle down, you’re gonna ruin my fort.” He just kept evening out the wall with his hoof.

“Maybe we should use the snowpony for the wall?” the little colt suggested, poking his head through the gateway.

Inside the fort there was just enough space for the two pegasi, but not for him as well.

“We just spent the whole evening making him!” Summer immediately dropped his act and stopped prancing. Now he straightened himself up in protest, still staying behind the snow wall in relative protection from the wind, “And if we do that, what’s the point in even building a fort?”

The little colt looked around. He had somehow missed the moment when it went dark outside. The snowflakes weren’t slowly coming down to the ground anymore like they had been this morning. Instead, the little colt suddenly found himself surrounded by a howling blizzard. And just for a brief moment, it felt like they’d gotten left alone in this endless, snow-covered world, with only one cover from the wind in the shape of their toylike fortress ready to crumble from the slightest careless motion and one wall still unfinished.

A sudden blast of wind cracked down, chilling the colt to his bones.

“Children! It’s time to go home!”

The little colt turned his head towards the voice, and just a couple of moments later, was able to make out a silhouette – a dark red stallion in a jacket that was coming towards them:

“Wow. A firm construction.“ The pegasus was visibly shivering, trying to turn his head away from the wind, “So, how’s it going? Froze solid yet?”

The little colt didn’t know what to say. It was the first time he met this stallion, so the question caught him off-guard.

“Dad!” Summer Breeze leapt out of the fort, “We still need to finish it just a bit, reinforce this wall and–”

“Finish it tomorrow; right now you’re going home. Glide, your father said ‘chop-chop’,” he yelled, trying to outroar the wind.

Glide wasn’t going to argue, so they all moved towards the owner’s house, and once they reached it, the dark red stallion swung the door open to let them in. After having horsed around in the snow and darkness for several hours, the main hall felt overwhelmingly bright and warm.

“Whew. What a storm,” the stallion muttered, closing the door behind them, “Come on now, take those jackets off and run to your beds.”

Glide and Summer didn’t need to hear that twice: they were already getting rid of their winter clothes in a hurry to warm themselves up by the fire.

But the little colt found himself lingering again. The stallion noticed it and fixed his blank stare on him for a moment:

“Oh... yeah. You wait here for a bit.”

He promptly marched to the kitchen while the little pegasi finally threw their hats and scarves on a small desk and headed to the stairs. The little colt had nothing else left to do beside staring at the hall once again; he was already beginning to sweat.

Muttered mare and stallion voices were heard from the kitchen, but he wasn’t able to distinguish the words – only their caressing tone. The little pony suddenly had the same feeling from back in the morning: the elusive sensation of sadness that he managed to forget about during the day spent playing games.

Meanwhile, the voices went silent and he heard some rustling. Soon after that, the deep red pegasus came back to him carrying a woodpile under his wing.

“The night’s gonna be cold. Let’s go, I’ll show you how to use the fireplace.”

The door opened again, showering them with glacial frost.




The wind was furiously swooping down, throwing batches of stinging snow into his face. It managed to get under the colt’s clothes, making him shiver uncontrollably. He had already gotten himself into a rhythm by now: first leg, second, third, fourth... First, second, third, fourth... The thick blanket of snow was meeting his every step with a treacherous crunch, caving in under the snowshoes. The thought of falling over and getting trapped had taken hold of the little pony and slowed him down. And now he was going too slow.

All alone, amid the endless white plains, exposed to the elements.

The fear and cold were the only things left for him now.




The little colt shuddered and unwillingly poked his head from under the blanket. It was chilly and quiet in the house with the firewood having burned out long ago, and once again the only living thing beside himself seemed to be the snow falling outside his window.

He got out of his bed and went to the hall trembling. His eyes caught the clothes that were laying in a pile by the door. The pony went to pull on his overcoat, and after finally succeeding with it, slipped outside.

He still marvelled at the amount of snow that appeared overnight as he trotted towards the owner’s house: the snowpony and the fort that they made yesterday were now completely gone. His shivering was getting stronger and stronger.

The path between the houses was relatively clean and well-trodden, but should he have attempted to step off of it, the colt would have immediately found himself neck deep in the snow. Even an adult pony would have had problems. Thick clouds were hanging right overhead, and the wind was tirelessly attempting to tear his hat and scarf off him. The sun was nowhere to be seen – there was only a hint of it beyond the omnipresent whiteness.

He made it to the opposite door and rashly bursted in. Relieved after finally feeling some warmth, he pulled his clothes off and moved to the kitchen. The stove was alight, and some appetizing concoction was heating up in a pot there, but the white mare was nowhere to be found.

Was he late again?

The little colt wanted to wait, but the tasty smell that was filling the kitchen made his stomach rumble. He didn’t want to stay hungry all day, so, after just sitting there for a bit, he gave up and decided to go searching.

Stepping out into the hall, he was planning to go upstairs and check for Glide in his room, but changed his mind at the last moment – he didn’t want to go up there uninvited. And while he was standing at the bottom of the stairs confused, his ears caught voices coming from behind the other door across the hall from the kitchen.

He’d never been there before – the door had been closed for the entire time yesterday. The little colt went towards it and raised his hoof to knock, but then stopped once again. The adult’s voices behind the door sounded nervous:

“...would be falling down for two whole days! It’s already chest-deep, so we won’t be able to go far. Basically, we’re trapped here,” said a stallion, who’s voice he didn’t recognize.

“What? What do you mean ‘trapped’?” This was the voice of the white mare that had made him breakfast yesterday.

“It means exactly what it sounds like: we’re here on our own until the weather clears,” answered the stallion.

“Silvershine, will you please stop panicking,” another stallion voice intervened. The colt couldn’t recognize him either, but this one sounded deep, commanding and self-confident.

There was a moment of silence before a third stallion spoke – and the little colt knew this one: it was High Wind, Summer Breeze’s father, the one that showed him how to light and manage a fireplace last night:

“Forget the snow: it’s so windy up there, your wings get all twisted. The slightest mistake and you have to recover with no way of telling which direction you’re flying. That’s if you’re still not frozen solid at that point. So I’m afraid Silver here is right: the only thing we can do right now is wait.”

“Alright then. I guess we all got it,” the stallion with the commanding voice dragged out in discontent.

Heavy hoofsteps could be heard behind the door, and the little colt recoiled in panic. It was too late for him to run back to the kitchen. The door swung open and four pairs of eyes were now fixed on him. The colt froze, not knowing what to say. The dark blue pegasus stallion standing closest to him frowned again. Just like yesterday on the second floor, he was staring him down without saying a word, and once again, the little colt felt the strong urge to disappear.

“Oh! And today you’re early!” The white mare made him flinch with her sudden exclamation before she squeezed past the dark blue stallion through the door, “Never on time, are you? Didn’t wanna be late again? Well, c’mon, breakfast is almost ready.”

The little colt barely managed to avert his eyes from the deep blue stallion, but eventually turned around and went staggering after the mare towards the kitchen. Only after passing the doorway was he able to take a breather.

But soon enough, his attention was entirely occupied by the aroma filling out the air, calming him down.

The adults didn’t let them go outside that day: Summer Breeze’s father said that it was too cold and that the snow was too deep.




There was a line of black spikes sticking out of the snow up ahead.

The little colt stopped – he didn’t expect obstacles. Who would even put them there?

He came a bit closer. The even range of sharpened metal rods continued to both the left and right as far as he was able to see, dissolving bit by bit in the raging snowstorm. While he was standing there and looking around, his eyes began to water. Everything went blurry.

The spikes were barely sticking out of the snow and caused the wind to noticeably hum as it was being cut by them.

Making his way over the snow crust, the little colt began to warm himself up a bit. He even went on thinking that it had become a bit warmer outside, but after even this very short stop, the wind abruptly dispersed that illusion.

There was nothing to go back to. Now the only direction left for him was forward.

The little pony carried one leg over the spikes, almost feeling them aiming at his chest.

He couldn’t tell anymore if he was shaking from the cold or from the fear.

Please, please don’t give in too much.

A rush of wind froze the little colt through and through, forcing him to snap out of it. He gathered himself up, trying not to think about it and raised another leg as high as he could to avoid the snowshoe getting caught in the spikes.

Please, please, please...




On the next day, they were just plain bored. Glide had lots of toys, but after staying inside for the past two days, the little colts were already done with them.

Right now, all three of them had placed their front hooves onto the windowsill, looking at the endless snowfields spreading outside. The glass was gradually getting foggier from their breathing, the window was radiating cold, but at least from the second floor they were still able to see something...

The little colt had gotten really scared earlier that day after waking up to pitch-blackness. The adults closed all the shutters so the windows wouldn’t break from the pressure of the snow.

Overnight, his house had turned into a gloomy, frost-bound cave. For some time before he woke up completely, he even though that the sun wasn’t going to rise at all. But after his routine of getting dressed and pushing the door open, the little pony was finally relieved of his worries by the sight a dim daylight.

This fear wasn’t a fresh one though: every night he lay under his blanket in the murky darkness unable to fall asleep. The first time after High Wind showed him how to manage the fireplace and left, he was laying there for so long that all the firewood had burned out.

And when the crackling stopped entirely, he thought that within the wind whistling inside the chimney, he could hear a whispering voice. As if it was creeping inside along with the cold air, chirping around like a mosquito, getting inside his head, sending shivers down the spine...

The little colt couldn’t weather the storm, so he jumped out of bed, climbed the ladder in a blink of an eye, pushed the chimney damper in, and rushed back to hide his head under the blanket.

He wasn’t able to recall falling asleep that night either, now it all felt to him like a weird dream. But ever since then, he’d gotten into a habit of burning the firewood in the evening, closing the chimney damper, and hiding behind his blanket by nightfall.

“Yeah, doesn’t seem like it’s gonna stop,” Summer whispered.

“Obviously,” Glide replied, “If my dad says ‘trapped’, then we’re trapped.”

“And what are we gonna do?”

The little colt was once again overwhelmed by the feeling of something missing, but before he was able to catch it, Glide turned towards him, forcing the feeling away.

“I don’t know. Are you sure, he didn’t say anything else?”

The little pony shook his head:

“I told you everything I can remember.”

Glide pushed himself off the windowsill and went back to the center of the room with Summer following him closely.

“Maybe we could ask them?” the little colt proposed.

“What?! Are you insane?!” Glide spun towards him, “And you think they’ll tell us anything? Why do you think they’re hiding behind closed doors?” He then stopped abruptly and moved closer to the little colt.

“Waaait a minute! They’re in my father’s study right now. You can go there and listen in.”

“No-o-o,” the little colt brushed the idea off. He didn’t want to get caught eavesdropping ever again. Let alone twice in the same day.

“What are you so afraid of?!” Glide asked, absorbed by his own idea, “If they see you, just tell them you’re lost. Or... Wait...” he dug something up from the toy pile in the corner, “You can tell them that we were playing and the ball rolled off.”

“Oh, I don’t know…”

“You tell them that and we will back you up,” Summer added.

“Come on, you want to know what they’re talking about as much as we do.”

The little colt was moving his eyes between the ball and the two expectant pegasi for a good moment – all while keeping silent. Then he sighed, kicked the ball towards the door, and peeked at the hallway.

He could vaguely hear the adults talking behind the door at the other end, but the door itself was closed, and there was a carpet covering the entire hallway floor. If he really wanted, he could walk over it without making a sound, but the length of the hallway concerned him. If somebody told him that the ball rolled up there from Glide’s room, he wouldn’t believe it either.

“Well? Is the coast clear?” Summer tried to poke his head past him, but was immediately pulled back with a muffled “ouch!”

“Hurry up. They’ve already started!” Glide whispered through clenched teeth.

The hallway was still empty, so the little colt stood there for another second and then rolled the ball out. Trying to step as lightly as possible, he moved forward. As far as he could tell, right across Glide’s room there was a closet of some sort that wasn’t being used. Past that, paintings in hulking ornate frames covered the walls to his right, while on the left there was a railing overlooking the first floor main hall brightly lit by the chandelier, and the little pony was afraid that somebody would notice him as he made his way to the door.

But, as it turned out, the worst was saved for last. The corridor led him to a dark, dead end. It also had two doors on the opposite sides, and as he got closer and closer, the little colt was able to make out what the adults were saying. He nudged his ball forward just a last little bit. He really didn’t want to get caught, but at this point, curiosity had already taken over.

“...any changes. To be honest, I think it’s even getting worse.”

“I didn’t even think it could get any worse,” Miss Wind replied with a faltering voice.

“Darling, let’s not start…”

“Then don’t start it!” The little colt flinched: the white pegasus mare always seemed nice and kind to him. “Do any of you even do anything beside talking?!”

“We clean the snow every morning and every evening,” High Wind answered softly, “You were helping me to get warm last night, don’t you remember? Told me I was cold as ice.”

There was a pause.

“I’m not talking about the snow,” the mare sounded more calm now, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t really complain about staying by the kitchen stove all day. But I... I just can’t sit there doing nothing.”

“But what are the alternatives?” it must have been the third, fawn-coloured stallion.

Somebody coughed and the little colt tightened up. He had gotten so carried away and entranced by the conversation that he’d totally forgotten: only a minute ago his main concern was not getting caught. The hallway suddenly seemed infinite, and the pony vividly felt Mister Glider staring him down once again.

“No, Missis Wind is right,” the dark blue stallion had kept silent up to that point, but the little colt recognized his voice immediately. “It’s high time for us to consider our means for survival.”

“I wasn’t trying to question that, but with all due respect, what else can we do? We can’t fly, we can’t walk, we can’t call for help…”

“Silvershine!” Mister Glider cut him short, “Are you still having trouble getting up to speed? We will almost certainly have to risk our lives just for a chance of surviving. We need a plan and we need to carefully consider every possibility. Even if it’s gonna be flying through the snowstorm toward a certain death.”

“Ahem,” Summer’s father intervened, “With the wind and visibility as they are now, it would mean nothing but a certain death. And we don’t even know the right direction…”

“And still. If the storm lets up, even for a little bit, we have to know about it immediately. And we have to be ready. Maybe we should build a sled and all carry it over the snow together; then, if anybody falls, we will be able to land on the sled and pull them out of the snow by the already attached rope.”

“We could even add shields to protect the ones on the sled from wind and take some supplies with us,” High Wind added with enthusiasm.

“In any case, we have a lot of work ahead of us. First we need to clear the entrance to the shed, since the tools and wood planks are kept in there. I’ll take the stallions and deal with it. And after that, we’re gonna search all the houses and gather everything we might need. All the winter clothing, blankets... We’ll work in turns. And starting from this very moment, everyone who isn’t working is gonna be looking out the windows for a clearing. Miss Wind please, beside that, make sure there is always some hot tea waiting for us. And keep one eye on the foals.”

The little colt almost jumped from these words – it sounded as if the meeting was about to end. He silently turned around and went skulking back towards the playroom. Behind him, just a door away, Mister Glider was giving last instructions. Something about food – the little colt couldn’t hear it over the sound of his own heart pounding.

After making it to the other side, he slipped inside Glide’s room and finally took a breather. A moment later though, the pegasi bolted towards him. And the very first question that Summer asked left him confounded:

“Hey, where’s the ball?”

The door on the other end creaked open and the little colt felt a sudden chill washing all over his body.




He squinted from the powdery snow continuously stinging his face and raised his head to look around. The line of metal spikes had long since disappeared behind him, and he was now able to perceive some black shadows against the flickering, deep violet mess of snow rushing around.

The black spruce trees sticking out of the snow all around him had all been covered by snow on only one side, giving each the appearance of hugging their snowy double in some kind of motionless wrestle. Both the trees and their doubles looked as if they were trying to knock the other to the ground, with only the wind occasionally swooping down to tear some snow from the branches. But the wind was just playing along. It knew that before long, even the tallest trees would be buried deep under the white bulk, and decided that it would be fun to mercilessly throw whole bunches of it at the lonely colt stumbling along. As if the cold itself wasn’t enough...

The little pony ruffled up, burrowing his muzzle deeper into the scarf and kept on going. Up to this point, the frost was scolding him nastily, creeping through the gaps under the clothes, making him shiver. But by now everything under those gaps was feeling like ice. He had even stopped sensing the iciness in his legs near the hooves, and that alone was scaring him more than anything else for some reason.

The little colt tried to move faster. His eyes were constantly watering from the cold ever since coming outside, and with the powdery snow stinging his face, he now completely lost whatever was still left of his ability to see clearly. He lost himself staggering, desperately blinking, choking on the freezing wind...

A vague shadow closed in on him, and the little colt didn’t even realize it until his front leg cracked right through.

It was only after his nose almost poked the snow that the little pony recoiled and cautiously pulled his hoof out. The snowshoe was intact – it was just a spruce branch that cracked underneath it. The snow covering the lower branches had caved in under his weight.

The colt inhaled the frosty air, straightened himself up with a sob, and went making his way around the tree in an attempt to keep well away from it’s and any others’ buried branches.

The darkness was thickening up ahead.




“...To take a look at what we’ve got…”

It was unusually gloomy there, in the second floor hallway; the adults probably forgot to change the burned out candles in the main hall chandelier. It was the next day, and the pegasi sent him to eavesdrop once again.

“We can’t just sit here the whole day when they’re working their hooves off trying to save us. You said it yourself, my dad told them that we’ll probably have to fly to our certain death. We need to at least know when.”

There was some audible rustling behind the closed door before somebody walked across the room; the little colt barely resisted the urge to run away:

“Not much,” the other — third pegasus stallion — said... did they call him Silvershine? “The only somewhat useful thing we could find are these snowshoes.”

Another series of heavy hoofsteps kept the little pony strung-up.

“Think we can walk over the snow in these?” Summer’s father asked with interest.

“To be honest? I don’t even want to think about that. But maybe as a last resort... I already tried them today and I have to tell you, it’s not a walk through the park – not even close. The snow crust can’t hold me, even with only these on, and to have even the slightest chance to make it somewhere, you’d have to put on every single piece of clothing you can find…”

“Do you think they could hold a mare?”

“Mis-ter Glider,” Silvershine pronounced, “You must understand that Sky is expecting…”

“We’re not sending our mares out there,” High Wind stated.

“Sure.” The owner sounded displeased. “And what winter clothes do we have?”

“Except for my jacket, surprisingly not much,” the deep red stallion responded, “Mainly foal clothes, a couple of scarves…”

“And that’s it?!“ the owner sounded furious, “Is that all you have to show after a whole day of work?!”

Four hooves banged on the floor as if a pegasus landed, and this time, the hoofsteps were moving so fast that the little colt didn’t even have enough time to get scared.

“And that’s it?! That’s it?!!” Maybe you’ll take a little break from making demands and care to explain how we ended up in this mess in the first place?!”

The little pony couldn’t believe his ears. He could never imagine Missis Wind acting like that. And was she saying it to Mister Glider too?!

“Missis Wind…” the dark blue pegasus started.

“Stop ‘Missis Winding’ me! Why are we trapped here without at least some winter clothes?!”

“Nobody could’ve expected a snowstorm like this.” The stallion sounded like a displeased teacher lecturing a student.

“And what did you do to avoid any of that?!”

“Nobody could do anything to avoid that! Ask Silvershine here!” the stallion now sounded really annoyed.

“Summer…” High Wind tried to interject.

“No. I want an answer from him!”

“Mister Wind, can you please calm your…”

“Stop giving orders and give us an explanation!”

You’re my guest after all!” Mister Glider barked.

“Exactly! I’m not your servant to boss around!”

I know that! Is that your problem?!”

There was a moment of ringing silence after that and then Missis Wind... Summer Wind?.. calmly, giving full value to each word said:

“We’re cut off, the snow is almost reaching the roofs already, we barely have any warm clothes, but we’re still doing everything you say. We’re running out of food. My problem is how we’re gonna feed our foals.”

This time the silence was deathly.

“Summer, wait... We’re running out of food? How much do we have left?”

“I don’t know,” the mare let out a washed-out sigh, “Enough for a couple of days maybe? A week if we ration it…”

Somebody coughed.

“Okay, are we done yelling? I’d like to remind you that the foals are playing in the room across the hallway and we all agreed that they don’t need to hear any of that.”

That was followed by a few more moments of silence.

“Good. And now if you will allow it, I’ll answer your question. First of all, from now on we eat only once a day at lunch. We have to ration what we have left for as long as we can. The rest stays the same; we sit here and wait for the weather to turn. And clearing the snow on schedule. Missis Wind, put aside all the food that we’ll be able to take with us. If we decide to send somebody to call for help... Well, I agree: the pony we send must be in shape. We should also search all the houses: take everything edible and bring it to the dining room on the first floor with the rest of the supplies. And no exceptions – even for the foals. I hope you all understand. Missis Wind, that’s your responsibility, if you will. Is everything clear? Any objections?”

No objections followed.

“Then let’s get to it.”

The little colt took that as a signal to go back.

“And Silvershine... Please take these snowshoes away…”

After making his silent run to the opposite end of the hallway – thanks again to the carpet covering – he whisked out of there and right inside the playing room. And just like the previous day, almost ran into Summer and Glide waiting for him.

“Well? What was it?” the pink pegasus basically pounced at him.

“Have they finished the sled already?” The blue one wasn’t gonna give an inch.

The little colt pushed past them and into the room before settling on the floor among the toys to take a breath. Through the thumping in his ears he was able to hear the door opening on the other side of the hallway. The adults were going back to their chores, muttering among themselves.

“So. Are you gonna tell us or not?” Glide hissed, pressing forward.

“Ah? No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Summer joined. “What are we waiting for?”

“They didn't say anything about the sled... They were just yelling at each other.”

The pegasi glanced between themselves.

“Yeah, we heard,” Summer admitted.

“So. What happened?!”

“They said we’re running out of food. Looks like it’s gonna be tough.”

“Okay, food, we got it... But what about the sled?” Glide didn’t plan to give up that easily, “How are we gonna get out of here?”

“Oh! I almost forgot! They found snowshoes.”

“What’s that?” Summer inquired.

“But Silvershine said they can’t hold him. And they refused to send mares out there... Well... And then they started yelling about the food.”

Glide sat on the floor beside him.

“I don’t get it. They were working on the sled for the whole day yesterday…”

“Believe me, I was there ‘till the end and they didn’t even mention it.”

The colts went silent. The adults’ hoofsteps almost faded downstairs. And then Summer suddenly spoke up.

“Think maybe we should just ask them?”

“Are you out of your mind?” Glide exhaled, “We’ve been over it already…”

“But if you just ask your father…”

Hoofsteps were nearing them from out in the hallway, so the little colt shushed them both, and when the pegasi stopped and finally looked at him, he nodded at the door. Their heads went spinning around just as his own went spinning with thoughts:

“So... U-uh... Do you think we’re gonna finish our snow fort any time soon?” he asked aloud.

Summer only opened his mouth in confusion, but Glide didn’t hesitate one bit:

“Na-ah. We could probably start a new one. In a passage between the houses, where there’s not so much snow..”

The steps halted at their door, and the little colt involuntarily looked over. In the shade of the hallway, a silhouette of a big, dark stallion, or what he guessed was one, could be seen. But even in the pale light of the window, his eyes were shining. A familiar, heavy stare pinned the little colt to the floor once again:

“And what are you whispering here about, huh?”

Like we’re the only ones who’re whispering...

Glide turned to the stallion’s voice.

“Dad! We’re going to build a new fort.”

The little colt barely kept his jaw from dropping in awe. If he didn’t just warn Glide about his father a second ago, he would’ve never believed the pegasus knew about him coming.

“A new one?” the deep blue stallion moved out of the hallway and took a couple of heavy steps into the room, – “And where is it gonna be?.. In one of the passages?”

Like you didn’t just hear him saying it!

“Yup!“ Glide confirmed as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

The little colt and Summer were just keeping their mouths shut for now.

“I’m afraid it’s not gonna work,” the stallion answered him softly, “The snow is already taller than me. If you’ll be playing out there, taking snow from the walls for your fort, they could collapse, you understand? So no. No forts. At least for a few days. You got it?”

“Okay, dad,” Glide dragged out with disappointment.

The stallion looked at his son for a few more seconds, then nodded and turned towards the door.

He won’t ask him! Chickened out!

“Um... Mister Glider,” the little colt couldn’t believe it, but it was his own voice. He dared to speak to the deep blue pegasus for the first time. It was like watching himself from a distance.

The stallion turned back towards him and the little colt felt the weight of his stare falling upon him. There was nothing left from the softness Mister Glider showed to his son.

“What?” the stallion lashed.

The little colt swallowed.

“Mister Glider, but what about your plan with the sled?”

The pegasus moved his eyes to look at his son and back to him again. As if he didn’t even hear...

And now he was just drilling him again with the stare...

“Come here.”

The stallion suddenly rushed towards the little colt.

He crouched, for a brief moment he thought that the pegasus was going to hit him, but he just nudged him on the rump with his front hoof.

The colt sprung to his hooves and ran to the hallway with the stallion chasing him closely, driving him away. From the play room to the hallway, then down the stairs and toward the entrance door.

Only there did the stallion finally stop the pursuit, standing over him and hissing, “So, you like to eavesdrop, huh?! Don’t want it the good way?! Then scatter – get lost!!!”

Then he opened the door and shoved the little colt outside.

“Missis Wind, do you hear? I’m not gonna tolerate that little spy inside my house! And tell that to your husband!”

The door slammed.

The little colt was shaking, but only a couple of moments later, the frost forced him to gallop back home.




His hooves couldn’t feel the cold anymore.

Or, rather, he couldn’t feel his hooves anymore. If he wasn’t looking down for too long, he couldn’t shake the feeling of his legs morphing into heavy, dull, aching lumps of ice somewhere near the snow’s surface. This sensation, along with the cold air burning his nose and throat, was making him sick.

Half-buried spruce trees were towering all around, somewhat shielding him from the wind, and because of that, slugging through this labyrinth of violet and black, the little colt quickly forgot to make notice of the snow batches falling down from the dark, heavily burdened branches here and there.

“Toward a certain death, – the thought kept echoing inside his head.

“Through the snowstorm toward a certain death.”

The wind was howling overhead and the snow kept falling and falling. Countless stinging pellets swooping down from the eerie skies on the wings of the wind and the whole batches of it, that were getting torn from the otherwise tightly blanketed trees.

“It will never stop.”

The little colt stumbled and then sprawled on to the flat, clean snow.

It was soft.

It even felt warm.

He knew he needed to get up as soon as possible.

The thought was still echoing inside his head: “Through the snow”...

He could feel his eyelids fluttering shut.

Okay...

Just...

A little bit...




The next morning he spent a lot of time laying in bed, time after time briefly waking up only to shuffle onto his other side and fall back asleep. It was very cold in his house, and when he finally got himself out of the bed, the chill made him quake so hard that he could barely stand straight.

The familiar gloom was all around. He used to be afraid of it back in the beginning – staying alone in the dark house when all the firewood burned out. And then he had to climb the ladder to the attic to close the chimney damper, which was the most dreadful.

Every time he couldn’t shake the feeling that he wouldn't make it before nightfall. That the cold wind whistling in the chimney would bring sinister whispers and that he would hear heavy hoofsteps upstairs...

The frost forced him to the fireplace that got cold overnight. The little colt scooped some logs up and into its gullet, stared at them for a bit, and then began looking around.

Neither under the table nor in any of the far corners was he able to find more firewood, which in turn made him shiver even harder.




A fresh breeze was tickling his nose, and he could hear the snowstorm raging in the distance.

The little colt sighed and felt the cold breeze on his muzzle once again. Every time he exhaled, the soft, fresh tickling repeated. A weird and sharp smell made him flinch.

Why is my breath so cold?

He tried to move a leg, but it didn’t comply.

Oh no, my leg must have fallen asleep!... This is gonna be nasty.

The pony tried to open his eyes but couldn’t. The eyelids were stuck shut.

A gust of wind rushed by, howling through the branches and after that something softly fell near his head.

I’m lying in the snow! I’m still lying in the snow!!!

The little colt began weakly floundering in it. Something heavy was pulling on his muzzle and neck.

My ice-covered scarf.

His legs didn’t want to move, and no matter how hard he tried, he wasn’t able to open his eyes.

The tears had frozen, turned to ice.

The pony frantically scratched his head on his stretched forward leg, and immediately hissed from the sharp pain.

But he quickly came to his senses, and began desperately blinking.

A blurry mess of violet and black was slowly taking the shape of spruce branches sticking out of the snow.

Eyelashes. Those were just eyelashes.

The little colt didn’t hesitate before scratching his other eye on the leg, winced from pain, but in just a couple of seconds, respired and tried to look around.

He was laying half-buried in the snow with his right front leg stretched out and left one tucked underneath him. He still couldn’t feel either of his front legs, nor the hind ones.

The spruce trees were spiring all around him, and above them there was only the hum of the freezing wind sweeping more and more snow powder on them.

The little colt shuddered and started blinking once again: his tears were almost immediately turning into ice.

How long was I laying there?..

Doesn’t matter! Warm up. I need to warm myself up!

His left front leg got tucked underneath when he fell. And the right one was stretched forward.

The little colt was reluctantly, but inevitably starting to shiver. The shiver was so deep and feeble it made him sick.

The snowshoes! They got stuck!

The pony began twitching in an attempt to make his legs work, but it didn’t help – only the shiver was growing stronger...

I have to push with the left as hard as I can and pull the right one at the same time!

A strained sob sounded over the whizz of wind, and for a moment, he didn’t even realize that he moved back a little.

It sounded familiar and very close... Was it him sobbing?

Doesn’t matter!

The pony pushed as hard as he could once again and stood up shaking, still unable to believe that it actually happened.

So what if he isn’t feeling his legs. Sick of all the pain and cold? He’s been sick this whole time!.. Sick with the wind and sick with the snow!..

His body didn’t want to move at first – it was like he turned into a block of ice. Making the hooves move without falling over was incredibly difficult now.

Next time I won’t get up.

But every next step was coming a bit easier.

He was shaking uncontrollably.

Doesn’t matter!

Warm up!

I must warm up!




The little colt ignited the last piece of firewood that he had and sat beside the fireplace. It didn’t help.

The worst part was, he knew that there wouldn’t be anything left by the evening.

So he just kept sitting there looking at the fire, reaching for it...

His last portion of light and warmth.

After all that Mister Glider’s yelling the little pony was more than sure that no one was gonna expect him for lunch today.

When the last log burned out and the fireplace got warm, the little colt closed the flap and then sadly and routinely climbed towards the chimney damper.

Ever since yesterday, the void in his stomach was growing stronger. Even after warming himself up by the fire he could barely move.

On all the previous days right after awakening, he’d go for breakfast with the other colts and then they’d play in Glide’s room for the rest of the day.

Climbing to the attic used to be very scary, but this time it was daylight outside and he had nothing left to do.

Mister Glider had told the adults that they should search all the houses and take everything edible.

“Maybe I’ll find something up there.”

After climbing the ladder to the sloping planks of wood overhead, the little pony looked around in mild disappointment. To his surprise, the attic wasn’t all that scary.

The chimney pipe was going from the hatchway upwards where he could see the rafters holding the roof; and with cold wind whistling through the gaps, there was even some light getting in! Compared to the darkness of his house, it was almost daylight up here.

But unfortunately, no sacks of food.

There was a square made of wooden planks in the furthermost wall, as if somebody wanted to make a window there, but then just nailed it shut. The floorboards creaked underneath his hooves rather uncannily, but the little colt moved closer overcoming his fear and realized that it was just a plug. He could probably punch it out and get outside through the hole if he wanted... Just to dive headfirst into the snow.

He didn’t have wings, and the pegasi weren’t clearing the snow on this side of his house.

At that moment, the little colt heard some voices coming from outside. He almost jumped before rushing to find himself a gap wide enough.

It was them – Summer and Glide! Coming to visit!

He ran back to the hatch, climbed down the ladder nimbly, and hurried to the door.

“Together we will figure it out for sure!”

He made it there even before Glide knocked, surprising the other colt as his hoof was still in the air.

“Uh... did you hear us from inside?”

“Na-ah,” the little colt chuckled trying to suppress the laughter growing in his chest “I saw you from the attic. Yesterday your father said that we should check the houses for food.”

Glide however just kept standing there in silence. All he did was put his hoof down.

“Yeah, about that…”

The little pony ruffled up from standing in the freezing wind. Yesterday Mister Glider didn’t even let him take his overcoat.

“Come in,” he beckoned, “It’s cold outside, and I just heated the fireplace.”

Lunch must have ended just now. Maybe they even brought something for me.

The pegasi looked at each other.

“No.”

“Huh?”

Glide faltered:

“My dad said... we shouldn’t play with you anymore.”

The little colt couldn’t believe it.

“But... And... What about the plan? Did they finish the sled? Did you even ask?”

His eyes were darting between the pegasi.

“Enough with you and your sled already! My dad was right, the likes of you only make trouble.”

Glide nudged Summer with his wing, spun around and headed back home.

The little colt was looking at him in such shock, that he forgot to blink. Summer was looking at him the same way Glide did. He hadn’t said anything the entire time.

Then he just turned away and went after Glide.

The little colt was watching them leave feeling completely lost. But not for very long; the very next blast of wind forced him back inside.

Though it wasn’t warm there either – and now he was all shaking again.

In despair, he sprinted the short distance and snuggled against the side of the fireplace. A few moments later, his shiver began to fade as he calmed down a bit.

“Of course Mister Glider told them not to play with me. First he left me without food and firewood, and now he’s gonna take away my friends.”

The little colt raised his head.

“But Mister Glider isn’t the only adult here. But what should I do? Sit and wait until they come to search the house and then ask to bring me wood and maybe even something to eat?

“Nah. Mister Glider will either come himself or warn them not to give me anything, not even talk or listen to me.”

The pony unwillingly withdrew from his source of warmth and went back to the door. He really didn’t want to go outside without any clothes on, but now, it seemed, he didn’t have any choice.

Nothing had changed there: the snowstorm was raging overhead, soaking him with freezing cold and stinging white powder. The houses were pretty close to each other, and adults hadn’t stopped clearing the passages between them, but to make it to any of the other houses, he had to go past the main one.

The little colt was a bit concerned about that, but the wind was urging him to hurry. With it being so bad down here in the passage, how bad was it up there on the wind?

Running past the main house’s porch, he made a sharp turn and found himself in the next passage. The door, exactly like his own, was waiting up ahead.

He ran right towards it and even this short dash through the cold was enough to make him forget all his doubts and good manners: the little colt banged his hoof against the door. A few moments later, he was able to hear hoofsteps over the whistling wind and the door opened.

The fawn-coloured pegasus stallion looked either upset or worried, the colt couldn’t tell right away:

“Yeah?” he stared at him, “What do you want?”

“Um, excuse me, I just wanted to ask if you have any firewood and…”

The stallion looked back sharply, but then poked his head out once again. He visibly ruffled up in the wind, but still didn’t look eager to invite the little colt in.

“What?” he asked again, quickly but quietly.

“I said, I just wanted to ask for some food…”

“Silver!” a mare’s voice sounded from inside, “Close the door! I’m freezing.”

The pegasus turned away, but didn’t answer anything, and just poked his head out again.

“Y-you’re S-Silvers-shine, yeah? I’m c-cold and I r-real-ly want t-to eat!..” the little colt chattered all shaking.

The stallion opened his mouth, but the mare called him again:

“Silver! Who’s there?!”

“We don’t have anything,” he mumbled through the crack right before shutting the door in the little colt’s face.

“Why aren’t you answering? Who was it?” he was still able to hear muffled voices from inside.

“A beggar.”

“Beggar? But how did he…”

The colt bolted back, but then stopped in desperation at the owner’s house. He just realized that he couldn’t go back with nothing. So instead, he turned to the third passage and was surprised by the fact that he’d never been there before. The fort should’ve been only a few yards away, now buried under a layer of snow well over his head.

He banged his little hoof on the door, which this time almost immediately swung open.

“Oh look. Whom do we have here?” the deep red stallion muttered, letting him in.

“M-M-Mister W-Wind! “ the little colt couldn’t believe his luck. It was stunningly warm inside too.

“Yes, that’s me. So, what’s the occasion?”

“M-Mister Wind, d-do you have some f-food?”

The pegasus took a long look at the interior and then exhaled:

“Na-ah.”

“H-how is t-that?”

“Well, it is how it is,” the stallion stopped eyeing the interior and turned towards him,”Mister Glider told us to bring all the food to his house. And now we’re moving there as well.”

He raised his head and went to the door; the little colt panicked.

“Ah... Um...Do you have any firewood maybe?”

The stallion stopped and then scratched his chin with a hoof:

“I think there’s something left, yeah. Feel free to take a look.”

After saying so, he tried to move to the exit again.

“Mister Wind!” the little colt really didn’t want him to leave, “Um... Can you please carry it for me?”

The deep red stallion looked at him again, but with some consideration this time.

“Oh! Sure. No problem.”

He moved to the chimney, rustled there for a bit and then returned with a woodpile tucked under his wing just like the last time.

“Well, let’s go then,” he called, swinging the door open, “Whew! Now that’s a frost if I ever felt one! You’d think it's about time to get used to it, but for me it’s just as bad every time…”

“Y-y-yup,” the little colt agreed.

They made it to the owner’s house in silence.

He was still hoping to see a door opening, for somebody to come out...

Maybe that mare that was talking to Silvershine, or Missis Wind...

“And why don’t you have any clothes on by the way?”

“I l-l-left t-them, w-w-when…”

They went past the porch of the main house, but all the doors unfortunately stayed shut.

“You shouldn't be so forgetful, you know. Going outside in weather like that without any clothes on is gonna be the worst decision of your life... This way?”

The colt nodded. They flocked inside his house and Mister Wind raised his wing, dumping the firewood at the entrance and began prancing to get himself warm.

“So, that’s all? Will you manage it from here?”

“Mister Wind?”

It was his last chance.

“Okay, what is it?” the pegasus lowered his head to him with the usual attention.

“H-how is your sled plan going?”

“Sled? What sled?” the stallion didn’t even blink.

Oh, come on!

“The sled that you’re building to get us out of here.”

Mister Wind frowned a bit.

“And what gave you the idea that we were building any sled?”

“I heard you talk about it!” the colt pressed.

“Yeah? When exactly? I must have missed…”

“The day before yesterday. After lunch. I heard you say it yourself that you can make shields from wind and then if somebody falls into the snow, you’d be able to land on the sled and pull them out with the rope…”

The stallion straightened himself and scratched his chin with a hoof frowning.

“The day before yesterday, you say?”

Enough of that already!

“Yes! And yesterday I asked Mister Glider how it’s going, and he kicked me away. He won’t even let me in to eat!”

That clearly relieved the deep red stallion.

“Oh. So you’re that colt... Summer did mention something…”

“Mister Wind, please... Can you bring me something to eat?”

“Eat?”

“I haven't eaten anything since yesterday’s morning,” he was basically whining at this point.

“Since yesterday’s morning, you say?..”

“Yeah. Mister Glider yelled at me. Told me to get lost…”

“Glider?.. Hm... Mister Glider said that?”

The pegasus pondered over it for a couple of moments and then smiled:

“What are you even talking about?! He’s a father after all... Well, listen here, little colt. Mister Glider said ‘no exceptions’. Even for the foals. Got it?”

The last words had so much weight behind them, they even made the little colt flinch. He came to his senses only when the pegasus slammed the door behind himself, causing an icy wave to wash him over.




The little colt had been stumbling through the dark forest for so long, all crumpled up and trying to wrap himself deeper into his gear frozen trough and trough at this point, in attempt to save the last traces of warmth deep inside… He’s been at it for so long, that he wasn’t even able to recall anything else anymore.

Back then, lying on the snow, he thought that it wouldn’t be possible for him to get warm ever again, but the further he trod, frantically making his way between the snow-covered branches, the more he felt it growing deep inside him.

He thought that at some point he could even feel the heat, but that simply could not be: not in this frozen desert, not in the middle of the night, many hours away from the nearest fire. The very thought of being warm must have been just a fantasy, a delusion... a dream.

The only way to get warm was to keep moving.

Still cold? Move faster.

Keep moving until you fall.

Or get somewhere...




He kindled the fireplace and calmed down while doing so, though not for long. Minute came after minute, hour after hour, and when the faint light seeping from outside finally faded, the little colt was in utter despair. The firewood that Mister Wind brought would be enough for a day – maybe even two. But he certainly wouldn’t make it even for that long without any food.

It wasn’t much of a feast during the previous days either, but now he was a castaway, and the loneliness was making it all truly unbearable.

The little colt stood up and went to the door while shaking. The outside cold caused him to brace a bit, and the howling of the wind overhead sounded like nothing he’d ever heard before. It felt like the snow walls were about to crumble under its roar, burying him alive...

He ran the distance between the houses, hesitantly raised his hoof for a knock... And then just pulled on the brace and slipped inside.

As always, it was so bright and warm inside that the heat struck him like a wave. And to think, that only this morning he had to beg for a bit of firewood just to stop shaking from the cold...

The little pony didn’t really know what exactly he was going to do. Ask Mister Glider for forgiveness? Beg Missis Wind to give him some food? Hide in the Glide’s room? And Summer was also gonna be there somewhere...

But then he remembered the morning once again. Glide and Summer weren’t gonna help him: they basically left him to starve after they forced him to spy on their parents.

“Just tell them that the ball rolled away, and we will back you up”...

“We can’t just sit here when they’re trying to save us…”

And he didn’t even manage to ask a simple question!

“My dad was right: the likes of you only cause trouble.”

No. They won’t help.

They’d rather put it all on him and pretend it never happened!

There was some noise coming from upstairs, and before he even realized it, the little colt found himself hiding in the kitchen.

He went all ears.

Everything was quiet.

But if they caught him there and then, nobody would’ve even listened to his excuses!

And what are they gonna do? Leave me without food? Kick me away?!

There was a pot on the unfired stove with some food still inside. The little colt rushed towards it and began slurping.

And after filling himself up, he started weeping.

There was no coming back from that.

Trying to hold back the tears, he went outside – to meet his destiny...

And stopped at the other door. The one right against the kitchen, where he overheard the adults talking for the first time.

The little colt pushed the door and with a faint creak it opened.

It was dark inside, but the light coming from the hall was still enough to make out a big carved table in the center with many chairs around it.

The boards were groaning over his head: the colt could hear hoofsteps and murmuring voices coming from upstairs.

“All they ever do is argue with each other. Never even finished the sled.”

The little colt sobbed.

Something in the pile on the floor caught his eyes. The pony went a little closer: it was his overcoat. Looks like the adults decided it could be useful in case of...

What?

He wiped his tears with a hoof and took a better look. There were scarfs and winter hats. Bread and various sweets were piled on the big table... And on the side of the cloth pile there were round wooden frames with ropes and shoes attached to them.

“The snowshoes!”

He hurriedly shoved a winter hat, scarf, and all the food he could carry inside the pockets of his overcoat. Then, trying not to make too much noise, he pulled the coat on and waddled to the door carrying the snowshoes in his teeth.

It didn’t matter: his house wasn’t too far away!

But he needed to hurry. Carry all of this to his house, scoop some snow for a tea, eat as much as he could, warm himself up...

And then he was going to leave.

The snow would hold his weight.




The trees parted so abruptly that the little colt inadvertently stopped.

For a second he thought he was on the edge of a cliff or something, but was soon able to distinguish a flat slope ahead. Weird. He was expecting unrelenting, rattling blasts of wind, but now could barely feel a gust. The snowflakes were peacefully gliding towards the ground right before his nose...

The colt shuddered, casting the illusion asaide, and went on to make his way down. Individual spruce trees were sticking out of the snowy slope at a slight angle, but there were no snowdrifts around them. The white powder weighted the branches just a bit, leaving the trees almost intact compared to what he had seen earlier.

After making it to the bottom, the little colt found himself walking over an unusually flat plain without a single tree in sight.

The snow was still slowly settling to the surface all around him, but it wasn’t giving in under his hoofs that much anymore.

His journey went on a bit easier.

It was almost like a dream: barely able to move his numb, stilt-like legs; breathing through a scarf that had been frozen solid; feeling the icy tracks of tears pulling on his cheeks and unable to feel anything else...

It was like reaching his final destination. Where even the cold suddenly had pity.

The wind was still wailing up there in the indigo-colored skies just like back in the days in his chimney pipe and – just like during those long, dark nights – the little colt could almost hear a voice in this whistling.

W-w-w-w-w-w-w-a-a-a-a-a-a-i-i-i-i-i-it...

He kept striding as if in a trance.

S-s-s-s-s-s-s-ta-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-y-y-y-y-y-y-y...

The snowflakes dancing before the eyes...

F-f-f-f-f-f-o-o-o-o-o-rge-e-e-e-et...

Everything around him went blurry with tears, but something made him twitch: as if a visage of some misty white figure swimming alongside him through the snowfall though keeping its distance.

And over the droning of the wind, he was suddenly able to hear a distinct sound of it’s heavy hoofsteps – the snow crunching underneath...

The figure was now moving towards him.

The little colt stopped and began furiously blinking in an attempt to make sure he wasn’t just seeing things.

A dark-violet stallion was closing in on him with an unwavering, steady stride.

The stallion didn’t have any clothes on, was covered in hoarfrost, but at the same time looked completely unphased by all of that.

When the stallion opened his mouth, there was no vapour coming from inside.

I’ve been watching you.

He was whispering, but the little pony could hear him clearly over the wind – the voice was coming from somewhere inside his head, and then going even deeper, sending shivers down his spine.

The little colt recognized it.

He turned away and bolted, but wasn’t able to move much faster with his frozen hooves still strapped to the snowshoes.

He was very tired.

Your place is here – don’t you see?..

Pony kept stumbling away.

...You’re strong enough, you don’t need them...

The lifeless whisper was seeping inside his ears like frostbite.

...Leave them. Or do you think they would find a place for you on their sled?..

The little pony was now panting, choking on the freezing wind...

...They would’ve let you die...

The words felt like splashes of icy water on his back...

...But you and me – we are not afraid of the cold!

The little colt fizzled out and stopped, aghast.

He looked back, but the dreadful stallion was nowhere to be seen.

The little pony kept peering into the swirling whiteness nonetheless, trying to get rid of the tears, not yet ready to believe his eyes.

The stallion was running right behind him...

And disappeared. Dissolved.

Now there were only the snowflakes dancing in the morning light, and the ice glistening beneath his hooves.

The pony spun around.

The heavy snow clouds that had been endlessly pouring stinging snow on him for all that time now stayed behind, while clear blue sky lay ahead of him.

The little colt wearily moved towards it.

Even the wind felt warm and gentle now.

He went just a little bit further, but was already able to recognize smells.

The frozen lake stayed behind. The pony was now climbing the hill ahead of him, one barely covered by snow, with what was there already melting.

He then saw the mountainsides enclosing the valley with endless fields of green further down below.

The sun was rising out of the haze on the horizon, bathing everything in its rays. The world was coming back to life.

Squinting at it, but still unable to stop looking, the little colt lowered his eyes and was soon able to make out a town beyond the trees... And recognized it!

Right there – on the northern end – was their house. Mom and dad went back to town for supplies about a week ago, when Mister Glider said there was one more family coming to stay with them at his resort...

The little colt smiled.

Warm, cozy houses.

Good food.

His parents and friends ...

The sun.

The green grass...

How could he forget all that?!

But then the smile faded.

The wind mercilessly wailing overhead.

The stinging snow.

The endless white plains...

And the whisper in his head.

The little colt slowly turned away and went back.

By the time he made it to the lake of ice, the rising sun was once again eclipsed by the snow-covered hill and the heavy overcast. The warm, blooming world was left outside, and the pony was tramping through the snowfall further and further, until – finally – was able to sight the hoarfrost stallion.

He was just standing there, waiting. The little colt moved towards him.

What? You get lost?

He kept walking.

Come on now, why don’t you run? Your parents must be worried sick.

The raspy voice was seeping with venomous disdain.

Still don’t get it, do you? There’s no saving them.

“I know,” the little colt croaked through his clenched teeth.

So what is it then?

There were literally a couple of steps between them now.

How many centuries he’s been wandering alone, looking inside their windows, whispering his scaldingly cold words, making the others forget all the good?..

Unable to leave them, returning again and again and again...

“I didn’t come for them,” the little colt exhaled, jumping onto his rear legs.

“I came for you.”

The freezing touch twisted his front legs, neck, and chest in an agonizingly sickening spasm.

Even if he wanted to stagger back now, he couldn’t.

He felt the stallion flinch back in an attempt to brush him aside.

The frost...

So...

Strong...

I...

The little colt exhaled but didn’t see any vapour.

He could feel himself freezing.

Actually freezing.

Turning into ice...

Into another hoarfrost pony.

And when the cold was going to reach his heart...

When it wouldn’t be able to beat anymore...

The little colt felt a tear rolling down his cheek.

A scorchingly-cold hoof heavily settled on his back.

And he wasn’t feeling cold anymore.

***

He was basking under his blanket at home, lounging in the incredible bliss he could never imagine.

His hooves were thawed and didn’t even hurt that much anymore.

Only the tremendous weariness was still there.

The little colt could hazily recall the tears, the questions, hot tea... And weirdly enough nothing about how he got here.

But there was some commotion in their house after that, the ponies were saying, the snowstorm had finally faded... Mom and dad stayed with him while everybody else ran somewhere.

His parents weren’t with him right now, but he could still hear their voices coming from somewhere near.

Was he sleeping?

A sound of hoofsteps in the hallway made him open his eyes.

He turned his head and saw a dark silhouette behind the door.

For a moment there he was, sure that it the hoarfrost stallion came after him, but then the illusion was gone:

“Windigos... Hah! They’re just an old pony’s tale. And you’re just a little thief, that’s all.”

Mister Glider left, holding the snowshoes under his wing, and the little colt sobbed, hiding his head under the blanket once again.

Deep inside him – somewhere near the heart – he could still feel it.

The one last shard of ice unwilling to melt.