YOUR NAME IS... SNOWFALL

“My name is… Snowfall.” You say after a few more moments of silence- with the strong winds in between both of your breaths. Scylla huddled closer to you despite trying to move away, probably very cold with her short coat and small frame.

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“Nice to meet you, Mr. Snowfall!” She said through chattering teeth. “You live here? It’s so cold!”

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“I don’t feel it.” You explained. 

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“You’re weird!” She laughed. You suppose you are… weird.

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“Where is your home?” You ask impatiently. 

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“I dunno.” Scylla shook her head and looked down at the valley below them. “I’m lost. I think I came from over there- that rock looks familiar.”

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She twitched her ears in a direction and that gave you a little bit of hope. You haven’t been talked to this much in years and your head is starting to hurt. 

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“Well, off you go then.” You stood up and stretched, puffing out your fur against the gust of wind that consumed you. Scylla huddled closer to the ground as you left her there, heading in the opposite direction to your own den.

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“Wait!” Scylla’s neigh stopped you in your tracks. “Can you help me?”

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Inwardly groaning you turn back around to face her. She was standing on shaking legs and pleading with her violet eyes. “I-it’s just… so c-cold.”

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Suddenly, your heart ached as a quick flashback happened before your eyes. Your mother was there, and you were in Scylla’s hooves as your younger self. 

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You were born only a few moments before, and in the dead of winter the air was enough to make your still wet coat freeze itself. You were told you have to be strong to survive out here- and you had to follow her- but without help.

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Help. You remember now. That was your first word in response to your mother saying “You don’t get help in the mountains.”

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But you wanted help and she didn’t provide, and perhaps her regret in doing so is what brought the next thought.​