Amongst the frantic beasts was a large horse, painted in a snowy white and tiffany blue, with a blue-gray mane. Its legs were bewilderingly strong, allowing it to sprint past most of the fleeing animals with ease. Passing the rampaging arctic creatures, the horse seemed as if no effort was being put into his stride. Every so often it would let out a sigh, revealing a foggy exhalation into the winter sky.

The incredibly muscular animal was already showing signs of wear from malnourishment, and it had merely been a few days since the rapid development of bitter cold. Maybe he would stumble upon a bush of frost berries, or perhaps a patch of ice-ridden grass. Thirst was less of an issue, if an issue at all. A simple dose of snow from the ground would leave the horse well off for at least a little while.

As the days went by, the steed thought less of hunger and more of physical exhaustion and the bitter wind of the gelid land. Before long, it would be too tired to continue the hasty pace it held for such a prolonged time. The condensed sweat on its snout began to freeze. Slowly but surely, the horse would freeze.

Slowly but surely.

Minutes felt like days, and days felt like months. Small Snowshoes passed the horse in what seemed to them to be a race to the finish. Starvation and fatigue began to become more noticeable to the horse than the glacial climate. Snow which was stuck on the bottom of its hooves began to solidify into ice, along with areas behind its ears and on its neck. Drained of energy, the horse fell asleep, covering itself in an imaginary blanket of nothingness; envisaging a sheet of warm over its stiff body.

Trudging along, the horse’s heavy steps began to lighten. Things seemed to clear up, there seemed to be hope. A green clearing up ahead proved that the stallion’s effort would not go without reward. Suddenly, a rush of excitement, hope and energy flooded its mind. Sprinting ahead, undernourishment and weariness became lodged in the very back of its mind. There were no other animals here, near this place of serenity and sanctuary.

The skyline began to get greener and greener, yet the arctic oasis seemed to get tinier as the horse got closer. A horde of animals suddenly appeared, seemingly out of thin air, gulping at the decreasingly voluminous body of water in the center of the haven. Larger creatures trampled the smaller ones in an attempt to get more liquid into their systems. The horse paused and watched from a distance.

Its peripheral vision began to narrow, and the horse finally noticed a clearing in the sanctum. Sudden vigor ran through its blood, and it ran hastily towards the water. It wasn’t thirsty, but the flora nearby was more than enough to satisfy its dying hunger. The horse opened its mouth and…

...opened its eyes. Looking around, it realized it was exactly where it had fallen asleep. No tundra-like greenland. No water. No animals. No hope.

Struggling to even unfold its numb legs from the sleeping position, the stallion stood up, shivering and chattering its teeth. From the night’s rest came a miniscule amount of liveliness, and along with it another batch of frozen condensation on its lower back.

Dragging itself along the frozen tundra for what seemed like years, the air seemed to become crisper, the wind a little less frigid; yet the ground seemed colder than it ever was. Other animals were nonexistent, and the ones that made it past the stallion previously were passed, frozen, miles behind.

As time went by, the steed’s front legs began to do all the work. Rather than picking up its hind legs, they were pulled along, making a linear path through the wintery ground.

After aimlessly plodding around in the snow for an eternity, the horse picked up its rear legs. And stood there. Ice began forming around its legs. Slowly but surely, the steed would be done with its journey.

Slowly, but surely.

Amongst the frantic beasts was a large horse, painted in beautiful colors. The majority of its body was the color of the snow around its habitat, almost causing it to be blended into the nature around it. Around its nose, behind its ears, and on the base of its back was a touch of a distant iceberg, an almost teal hue. Its great mane was of matted fur, the shade of an old Russian Blue. Its body was made up of large, rounded hills of muscle, and yet its silhouette was of a pony-esque slimness.

The fauna in the environment were of similar status, that of slender athleticism. They too blended in with their environment, with everything being blanketed in white. Fur blended with snow, and the creatures would only be more indistinguishable when snowfall came. The seemingly daily blizzards faded the profiles of each and every creature in the arctic. With more frequent snowstorms came colder temperatures, and with colder temperatures came more distraught animals. With time they would die off, and leave the tundra a lifeless wasteland.

Stomach growls gave a hint of the horse’s nourishment, or lack thereof. Maybe it would stumble upon a bush of frost berries, or perhaps a patch of ice-ridden grass. Thirst was less of an issue, if an issue at all. A simple lick of snow from the ground would leave the horse well off for at least a little while.

Yet, as the days went by, the steed thought less of hunger and more of physical exhaustion and the bitter wind of the gelid land. Before long, it would be too tired to continue the hasty pace it held for such a prolonged time. The condensed sweat on its snout began to freeze. If food was no issue, it would freeze in time.

Slowly, but surely.

Minutes felt like days, and days felt like months. Small Snowshoes passed the horse in what seemed to them to be a race to the finish. Starvation and fatigue began to become more noticeable to the horse than the glacial climate. Snow which was stuck on the bottom of its hooves began to solidify into ice, along with areas behind its ears and on its neck. Drained of energy, the horse fell asleep, covering itself in an imaginary blanket of nothingness; envisioning a sheet of warmth over its stiff body.

Trudging along, the horse’s heavy steps began to lighten. Things seemed to clear up, there seemed to be hope. A green clearing up ahead proved that the stallion’s effort would not go without reward. Suddenly, a rush of excitement, hope and energy flooded its body. Sprinting ahead, undernourishment and weariness became lodged in the very back of its mind. There were no other animals here, near this place of serenity and sanctuary.

The skyline began to get greener and greener, yet the arctic oasis seemed to get tinier as the horse got closer. A horde of animals suddenly appeared, seemingly out of thin air, gulping at the decreasingly full body of water in the center of the haven. Larger creatures trampled the smaller ones in an attempt to get more liquid into their systems. The horse paused and watched from a distance.

Its peripheral vision began to narrow, and the horse finally noticed a clearing in the sanctum. Sudden vigor ran through its blood, and it ran hastily towards the water. It wasn’t thirsty, but the flora nearby was more than enough to satisfy its dying hunger. The horse opened its mouth and…

...opened its eyes. Looking around, it realized it was exactly where it had fallen asleep. No tundra-like greenland. No water. No animals. No hope.

Struggling to even unfold its numb legs from the sleeping position, the stallion stood up, shivering and chattering its teeth. From the night’s rest came a small amount of liveliness, and along with it another batch of frozen condensation on its lower back.

Dragging itself along the frozen tundra for what seemed like years, the air seemed to become crisper, the wind a little less frigid; yet the ground seemed colder than it ever was. Other animals were nonexistent, and the ones that made it past the stallion previously were frozen, miles behind.

As time went by, the steed’s front legs began to do all the work. Rather than picking up its hind legs, they were pulled along, making a linear path through the wintery ground.

After aimlessly plodding around in the snow for an eternity, the horse picked up its rear legs, and stood there. Ice began forming around its hooves. In time, the steed would freeze.

Slowly, but surely.