Journey Through The Mountains

Ricki snorts in the cold weather, and immediately spots his breath in the cold air. He was cold and could feel icicles beginning to form on the tips of his coat. Ricki flares his nostrils in distaste at the weather and he smells wolves. Ricki's heart flutters at the thought of such predators being nearby and he knows he must continue on faster. He shook his head, making his mane blow wild in the wind, once to warm up and knew he had to travel on further. Ricki peers up the mountain, knowing the further he got to the top the colder, but he would be closer to climbing it to reach others. The risk would be worth it, but it was a dangerous trek to make alone in such dangerous weather.

As he begins to trot his way up the mountain, rocks begin to fall loose and crumble down to the bottom. His hooves began to slip under them, but he managed to gain his balance, but his heart was still thumping against his chest in fright. His confidence began to falter realizing his speed would be no help here in the mountains; instead, he would need to rely on his patience. Ricki began to take more patient steps up the mountain, watching where he put his hooves. The process was a slow one, but more safe than his original plan. As he would put on hoof out to test the rocks, some would crumble down but he was safe.

As he reaches the top, Ricki scans the landscape below him. It was somewhat like his original home, but lacked his familiar herd. Throwing his head back, he let out a loud whinny that echos alerting the herd of his presence. His black eyes scan the landscape and narrows as he spots a cluster of multicolor pelts, part of the herd. Ricki's heart begins to race thinking of what will happen, but he remembers his journey from the mountain is over giving him confidence. He was able to overcome a mountain, so he could take on some other horses.

The white mule hurried out of the Ash Woods, the mare he'd met there close on his heels. He turned his head to check on her once and a while, making sure she didn't take off or get hurt. She'd said she'd wanted to speak with Ash Storm, but Jasper could only guess as to why. Tossing his head he moved into a trot as the ground began to slope. The pine trees and other breeds of trees began to become further and further apart and the ground became rocky, slighlty hurting the frogs (Soft spots on the bottom of horses hooves), but he was sure footed and he kept his pace.

Hearing the stallions neigh Jasper answered with his own bray, a sound that wasn't quiet a donkey's own brey, but not quite a horses neigh either. He moved into a gallop that was turned more into short bursts when the ground sloped more, but his long legs kept him moving smoothly, and his experience of mountains and sure footedness showed as he easily manevered through rocky croppings and large rocks on the ground. He turned his head to put pale blue eyes on the mare to make sure she was fine, then turned his attention on the young stallion before him.

Slowing he approached the stallion and moved his soft muzzle towards his to gain his scent where a scent gland laid within a horses nostrils. His ears pulled back as instinct told him to chase out the youth, but Ash Storm, he knew, would tear into him if he didn't give the youth a chance. He did, however, struck out with his left hoof, not hitting him, but giving the warning no less. "Who're you and what're you doing on Liquid Fire Land?" The mule said, eyeing the youth suspicously as his long ears pinned back.