For perhaps the first time since he has settled here, the sky is as clear and blue as an unbroken sheet of glacial ice. So far north, it seems ten times as vast as any sky he has ever seen before. All day he has been enraptured by it, and stands with his dark head tilted upwards as he reflects on how small it makes him feel. In a few hours he knows the sun will slip beneath the horizon and then darkness will fall, and with its arrival the heavens will become even more beautiful, boasting an unmarred vision of the galaxy which will twinkle down at him like pinpricks of light in a navy canvas.

Solgar can see the resident eagle soaring in large circles through this unbroken cerulean sky, its broad wings outstretched to catch the faintest breeze. Its snowy white head tilts to and fro as it spirals, but it's too far away for Solgar to make out its keen golden eyes: eyes which he knows are, at this very moment, searching every last blade of grass and drift of muddy snow for prey. He knows also that he is quite safe from its hooked beak and talons, being far too large and heavy to carry off to its eyrie. Even still, he gives a little shiver as the regal bird disappears into the distance with a few powerful flaps of its wings.

Just as the stallion turns to resume his patrol, his ears catch the tremulous sound of a shrill cry. For a heartbeat he thinks it's the eagle returning, but it's too heavy, too solid a sound to belong to anything but his own kind. It's quite close, too. With a lurch of his muscled hindquarters he breaks out into a leisurely trot, and less than a minute later finds himself in the presence of a pale mare. Tall and elegant, she stands like a vision against the backdrop of earth and sky. Solgar's dark face is expressionless as he approaches her, his scarred body moving loosely as if he has no cares in the world.

"Ferrari, is it?" he asks her in a low, gravelly voice. Condensation escapes his mouth in warm, silvery puffs and hangs in the chilly air. His eyes, black and beady, regard her curiously, but there's no trace of a smile on his lips. "So, what is it you want with me? If you have questions before you make your decision, get 'em over and done with." She's taller than him, he notices suddenly. In fact, she's taller than both Vanille and Winter too. Not that it bothers him, of course; he can hold his own, height or no, and the girls would soon know that too.