The Stars Will Aid in Our Escape
Sep. 24th, 2015 11:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
twilightponyIf you've kept track of the days, you probably noted that it took a while for us to get home. On to my field notes! Oh, and I expect my 15 bales of hay to be delivered tomorrow.
Day 10. Rainbow's ridge through the ice sheet weaves a bit left and right but it is heading south and we're making good time. Lemon Hearts said this is what they trotted on when they were going north and that it extends all the way to the southern end of the ice sheet, with a few gaps here and there. When the ridge rises over a submerged hill we catch glimpses of a glimmer of twilight at the southern horizon. Our yak guide is feeling especially chatty, trading "A pony walks into a donut shop" jokes with Pinkie, and during the evening meal, asking strings of questions of the defrosted explorers in our party and not waiting for answers. The caribou explorer (Leaf Hairrakesson) is especially intriguing, coming from the wandering herds of the far north. He'll be leaving us as soon as we reach the point where the sun rises above the horizon.
They tell me that a large part of Winter's binding spell is him describing winter in great detail, where only the wind and the stars move over an ancient frozen landscape. Winter likes an audience, which is why everypony, griffin and caribou are still alive. Since he's a windigo, I think he feeds off their cold, rapt attention in some way.
Our fast pace has worn out our explorers and we are very tired too. It has been ten grueling days of walking in freezing cold with no hay to speak of in our bellies. We're still walking Rainbow's ridge through the ice field and even though we could have reached the snowy plains to the south by evening, we're stopping early. There are fifteen of us, too many to fit around one soup pot, so we made three groups at each stop. To get to know each other better, we switch around who sits in which group.
Our tents are like a little village in the snow. But Leaf Hairrakesson's shelter isn't a tent. With a long wooden, blade-like tool he's cut compacted snow into large bricks and he's built a small stable, with a roof! It's warmer than our tents. Moondancer and I took notes and made drawings.
The cold has found its bite again so we're sleeping two by two for warmth. When I get home, I'm going to the spa where I will sit in the sauna until I'm so hot I catch fire.
Day 11. Midday halt. The twilight is much stronger now and lasts for about four hours. By this time tomorrow I expect to catch a glimpse of Princess Celestia's sun. We're all quite tired of the near perpetual dark. Up above, weird constellations gaze down upon us with their many eyes and wiggle their tentacles.
Early evening, a sudden wind blew down upon us from the north. As we looked back we could see a wall of clouds and flying snow racing after us, like a giant breaking wave. Riding that wave was Winter, grown gigantic, even at this distance, bearing down on us at terrifying speed. We bolted, galloping hard for the south with no hope of outrunning this storm. Winter was gaining fast. Our yak guide was in high spirits again, cracking jokes between pants and gasps for breath. I made a change of plan.
I called for an immediate halt and to make camp right there. Pinkie caught on right away. "This calls for a party! A hello goodbye party for Winter!"
As the wall of clouds rose ever higher and the wind gained strength, we pitched our tents in a tight circle, built a snow brick wall all around and lit an oil lamp flame in the center. Pinkie produced marshmallows and crackers. It's Pinkie, I didn't ask. "We'll make smores!" Soon we were an oasis of cheer in a world gone white, roasting marshmallows and laughing at how silly it all was. I started to build the Hearth's Warming spell.
But the wind was whistling, the snow swirling closer and closing in over our heads. Winter's standing wave became a hurricane, rising from all sides, spinning and blotting out the twilight heavens. Ice began to grow, up our snow brick walls and arching up and over our camp. We were a small oasis of smores and cheer, lit by one oil lamp flame and a slowly growing Hearth's Warming heart, in the black eye of a giant storm. The ice dome did not stop or even slow down. Winter was prepared to win this time.
Then we heard a whinny, like a rumble of thunder, rise above the howl of the wind. Standing up and looking south, I saw a glimmer, something shimmering in the blackness, then a gigantic head crashed through the crest of the spinning wall of clouds. Emerging whole through the whirling clouds of Winter's hurricane, a constellation, a being of stars, galloped down the wall of snow and wind straight for us and was shining brighter with each step. It was a pegasus constellation, with a brilliant star on her forehead lighting her path.
As she charged, she not only stopped the blizzard that was building up, but changed it into a gentle rain. With a few more strides she reached our camp, stood over it and spread her wings. Then she looked down to us and made a mother's call. It was a gentle rumble so deep it made the ground tremble. We could feel it to our very bones. I could suddenly remember the taste of mare's milk, my mother's warm flank protecting me, her warm breath on my neck. It was so real, so there, so vivid. A warm glow, safety, one with a world fresh, exciting and new.
Indescribable.
The storm vanished. Winter fled back to his fortress of ice and we were standing, as weak and wobbly as foals, reborn under clear skies on a plain of mist. Summer is here to lead us home.
We've collapsed into our tents and snuggled under our bedrolls. I feel so safe and warm. I can barely keep my eyes open, my friends are sleeping like foals and in a moment, I will too.
Day 10. Rainbow's ridge through the ice sheet weaves a bit left and right but it is heading south and we're making good time. Lemon Hearts said this is what they trotted on when they were going north and that it extends all the way to the southern end of the ice sheet, with a few gaps here and there. When the ridge rises over a submerged hill we catch glimpses of a glimmer of twilight at the southern horizon. Our yak guide is feeling especially chatty, trading "A pony walks into a donut shop" jokes with Pinkie, and during the evening meal, asking strings of questions of the defrosted explorers in our party and not waiting for answers. The caribou explorer (Leaf Hairrakesson) is especially intriguing, coming from the wandering herds of the far north. He'll be leaving us as soon as we reach the point where the sun rises above the horizon.
They tell me that a large part of Winter's binding spell is him describing winter in great detail, where only the wind and the stars move over an ancient frozen landscape. Winter likes an audience, which is why everypony, griffin and caribou are still alive. Since he's a windigo, I think he feeds off their cold, rapt attention in some way.
Our fast pace has worn out our explorers and we are very tired too. It has been ten grueling days of walking in freezing cold with no hay to speak of in our bellies. We're still walking Rainbow's ridge through the ice field and even though we could have reached the snowy plains to the south by evening, we're stopping early. There are fifteen of us, too many to fit around one soup pot, so we made three groups at each stop. To get to know each other better, we switch around who sits in which group.
Our tents are like a little village in the snow. But Leaf Hairrakesson's shelter isn't a tent. With a long wooden, blade-like tool he's cut compacted snow into large bricks and he's built a small stable, with a roof! It's warmer than our tents. Moondancer and I took notes and made drawings.
The cold has found its bite again so we're sleeping two by two for warmth. When I get home, I'm going to the spa where I will sit in the sauna until I'm so hot I catch fire.
Day 11. Midday halt. The twilight is much stronger now and lasts for about four hours. By this time tomorrow I expect to catch a glimpse of Princess Celestia's sun. We're all quite tired of the near perpetual dark. Up above, weird constellations gaze down upon us with their many eyes and wiggle their tentacles.
Early evening, a sudden wind blew down upon us from the north. As we looked back we could see a wall of clouds and flying snow racing after us, like a giant breaking wave. Riding that wave was Winter, grown gigantic, even at this distance, bearing down on us at terrifying speed. We bolted, galloping hard for the south with no hope of outrunning this storm. Winter was gaining fast. Our yak guide was in high spirits again, cracking jokes between pants and gasps for breath. I made a change of plan.
I called for an immediate halt and to make camp right there. Pinkie caught on right away. "This calls for a party! A hello goodbye party for Winter!"
As the wall of clouds rose ever higher and the wind gained strength, we pitched our tents in a tight circle, built a snow brick wall all around and lit an oil lamp flame in the center. Pinkie produced marshmallows and crackers. It's Pinkie, I didn't ask. "We'll make smores!" Soon we were an oasis of cheer in a world gone white, roasting marshmallows and laughing at how silly it all was. I started to build the Hearth's Warming spell.
But the wind was whistling, the snow swirling closer and closing in over our heads. Winter's standing wave became a hurricane, rising from all sides, spinning and blotting out the twilight heavens. Ice began to grow, up our snow brick walls and arching up and over our camp. We were a small oasis of smores and cheer, lit by one oil lamp flame and a slowly growing Hearth's Warming heart, in the black eye of a giant storm. The ice dome did not stop or even slow down. Winter was prepared to win this time.
Then we heard a whinny, like a rumble of thunder, rise above the howl of the wind. Standing up and looking south, I saw a glimmer, something shimmering in the blackness, then a gigantic head crashed through the crest of the spinning wall of clouds. Emerging whole through the whirling clouds of Winter's hurricane, a constellation, a being of stars, galloped down the wall of snow and wind straight for us and was shining brighter with each step. It was a pegasus constellation, with a brilliant star on her forehead lighting her path.
As she charged, she not only stopped the blizzard that was building up, but changed it into a gentle rain. With a few more strides she reached our camp, stood over it and spread her wings. Then she looked down to us and made a mother's call. It was a gentle rumble so deep it made the ground tremble. We could feel it to our very bones. I could suddenly remember the taste of mare's milk, my mother's warm flank protecting me, her warm breath on my neck. It was so real, so there, so vivid. A warm glow, safety, one with a world fresh, exciting and new.
Indescribable.
The storm vanished. Winter fled back to his fortress of ice and we were standing, as weak and wobbly as foals, reborn under clear skies on a plain of mist. Summer is here to lead us home.
We've collapsed into our tents and snuggled under our bedrolls. I feel so safe and warm. I can barely keep my eyes open, my friends are sleeping like foals and in a moment, I will too.
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Date: 2015-09-25 05:50 am (UTC)