Late Winter, HY1 · Sunny · 31°F / -1°C
Just days before the sun had been obscured by clouds, but today it conquered the sky and shone bright above, keeping the snows at bay. It was not the warmest it had been since she first came, though. Perhaps because of the snowfall a few days ago, when she had been traversing the rocky butte - it usually took a while to warm up after a storm like that. Something about the ground being unable to warm up and retain the heat of the sun beating down.
Anyway, weather was nice, but quickly became a boring topic. Today, Ryd was celebrating herself, because she had just conquered the ridge. Not from the west, but from the steep east.
She’d had to go slowly just to avoid slipping on ice and snow, and had in fact slipped a few times, though thankfully it was more to the bottom of the ridge where she didn’t have very far to fall. After she’d slowed herself down and gotten the hang of the slow climb, she’d been able to find a narrow broken path up the side of the rise. It was still treacherous, with gaps here and there, but she’d been excessively cautious. She tested every step for a true grip, keeping a careful eye where each paw was going. As she got further and further up, she had to fight the urge to let her nerves overwhelm her. Just one step at a time, and luck that she would not find herself on a loose rock - that was what she held onto, all the way to the top. Once she finally got there, she was almost surprised that it was over… but glad.
It was not the height of the mountains beyond, but it was a feat in itself that the girl had accomplished. The peaks would certainly be next.
Once she had gotten to the top, she noted that far in the distance to the west, the land seemed to slope gently and naturally downwards - with an exasperated laugh to herself she’d shaken her head. She’d go up and down that way from now on, definitely. Panting heavily, she decided it was alright if she plopped herself down for a break, licking at the snow to quench her thirst.
High above, she heard the piercing cry of a falcon, and her ears perked forward as she snapped her gaze above to it. It floated around like it owned the sky, unconquerable, its confidence evident in its powerful flight. It was not flapping with the effort of a smaller, lesser bird. It would only occasionally flap its wings, otherwise hovering on the wind.
That was how Ryd wanted to be. Unconquerable. She just needed to keep testing herself and rising above - just like with this ridge.
Sep 27, 2015 05:12 PM
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