[ Dashing for the clouds, Sleipnir takes advantage of the slackened reins to toss his head and, indeed, look very pleased with himself (as much as a horse can). The damp chill smothers his flanks and Chris's clothes as they break the cloud-line, the world transforming into a fluffy tundra of sunset peaches and pinks where the only other company is a few stray birds gliding home for the evening.
It's cold, but it's beautiful. Sleipnir makes sure he can feel his passenger seated securely after every jump over rolling nimbuses. ]
no subject
It's cold, but it's beautiful. Sleipnir makes sure he can feel his passenger seated securely after every jump over rolling nimbuses. ]