Pixel-Coyote

The sun's dying light sunk across the snow covered mountains, growing redder as it darkened. A chilled wind swept the corva's wings into unbalance. West forced them back against the protesting pushes, determined to keep on his path. The sharp peaks and dark valleys were far from his familiar home. Nothing in the desolate landscape resembled the warm, gentle coasts with waves lapping at their sands. Another piercing blast shot straight through his feathers. His only protection against the cold turned useless. For once, the corva felt fear. Fear as real as any danger he faced that night against the mountains.

This could not go on. But where to land? Every second the howling gale brought him closer and closer to the rocky ledges. Their black jagged peaks blended with the night, only revealed by snow resting upon them. West cried out to the emptiness, despair escaping from his chest. He risked a fleeting glance up to the glowing moon in a shotty attempt at finding his bearings. Only the moon did not shine in the way he thought. It glinted with bands of white and silver, more dazzling than any gem he had seen, but all it left him disoriented and confused. The corva snapped his head back down from the captivating sight and was met by a world of black, white, and silver. His breathing grew ragged and desperate while his tail flailed for balance in the chaos. Was this to be how he ended? He wondered while his wings burned.

Endless flapping did nothing to slow his inevitable plunge to the rocks. A minute turned to seconds, and seconds to moments. Down he fell, unable to battle any longer. But even as he gave in something soft whisked across his left wing and the wind stopped. He found himself upright with wings level, still soaring in the air. Bewildered, the corva almost didn't believe it to be true. However, the winds would not restrain forever and he felt the change at the tips of his winds. Yet before another blast could strike, again something brushed his right wind. This time silver rings slipped at the corner of his vision. Almost as if the moon had flown down above him. It's touch led his gaze to what only could be a miracle.

Nestled between a sheer wall of black rock and a steep snow covered rise was a small gathering of trees. He blinked several times, hardly trusting his eyes, but the touches to his wings gently steered him there. Finally he could raise his talons up to meet the ground and meet the ground he did. West flared his wings and flopped right into the soft welcoming snow. His body was so numb from the winds that the sudden cold didn't bother him much. He could only laugh in joy that he was alive for another night.

After resting for several moments he forced himself up, shaking the clumps of white powder from his feathers. Everything burned and each step through the thick blanket send fire up his legs. His wings dragged along it's surface, for he was too tired to even rest them to his sides. Another flare of wind reminded him he was still in the mountains and that finding shelter among the trees would be a much better idea. Several coniferous trees bunched together and their branches kept the shrieking gales at bay. He almost began digging out a nest for himself when another silvery shimmer caught his eye. The corva squinted because the shapes were almost recognizable, yet they looked no different than the whirling snow around him.

"To challenge the mountains this time of year is a dead man's venture." A calm voice spoke from them.

The corva squawked in surprise, flinching against his makeshift nest. "What? Who are you?" He didn't see anything but the shimmers, until the shimmers stepped forward. Two silver eyes, two webbed wings and two furred ears. A lucan. "Are you even real?" He asked, reaching a wing up to touch them.

The lucan simply pushed his wing down, looking him in the eyes. "As real as anyone."


Stunned, the corva's beak gaped open. But their touch felt odd. Any living stryx should've felt warm. Yet their wing was as cold as snow. "Thank y-"

Before he could finish the Lycan touched gently to his head. "Sleep, and the morning shall treat you kinder." And in a flurry of flap they were gone.

West rested his head down and shut his tired eyes, wondering if who he had seen was but a dream.