Snow lit up the earth and was making it look as if it was almost glowing. Giselle had forgotten the winter, the chills went through her and quickly caused her to remember – whether she wanted to or not. The descending wild mustang heritage that traced through each of her parents coursed her veins and naturally bodied her to be hardy against changing climates and to resist the natural hard ships of shifting terrain. The silver grulla had been standing with her rump to the wind and had been collecting a shelf of snow on her back line. The shifting of two figures outlined through the sheet of snow however and awakened her, the vivid glance of her blue eyes pursued the two mares as they ventured deeper towards the Peak’s center – fighting the long trek to get here. At that moment Giselle was curious as to where they had been returning from.

Giselle shook her sooty skin of some of the wet snow that clung to her and lifted her neck in one motion as she begun to trudge through the snow towards the duo of mares. Giselle picked up the pace and shifted into a canter, tossing her head with a playful notion as she approached the base of the rise the two mares scoured to reach deeper into the Peak. With a sudden stop Giselle brought her form to a sliding stop, warming up from her little run she rose her two front legs up partially – adding some playful light to help counter the darkness the snow put over the place.

A welcoming call escaped her throat, Giselle made sure it was loud enough to that they would hear her through the blowing wind. Then the silver grulla overo mare waited patiently at the bottom for them, recognizing the larger mare she had met during the Fall upon her first few days at the Peak. Perhaps the mare that was tagging along with her was the newest Vulcan? Giselle hoped so.