The Winged Ones

A loud whinny forced you to look down. It was strange to see something flying beneath you, but from up here most of everything was beneath your feet. But for a few high flying pegasis and the occasional bird, the only thing over your head was the sun by day and the stars by night.

The white stallion soared to a graceful landing, delicate hooves barely leaving a mark on the cloud upon which the pair of you stood. He tilted his head to once side to give you a curious once-over, then flicked his mint green tail and whickered softly.

You speak to him, introducing yourself. He watches you thoughtfully and he seemed to have some basic idea of what you were saying, but it was clear that he could not speak to you. You look about for any of the other Winged Ones, perhaps one of them could translate?

Orania Pegasi

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