Jala picked her way carefully down the steep slope, her heavily feathered legs almost locked into place as she avoided a fall.
Her bright blue eyes ran over the picturesque scenery before her. A small forest, lush green grass, a valley. Her long mane was swept across her neck and shoulders in the breeze that had picked up in the last few minutes. Then she felt sudden jolts of cold speckle across her back, and soon she was drenched with heavy rain. Luckily, she had reached the bottom of the slope, so she had no fear of slipping. Ears pricked despite the chill, she launched into a slow moving trot, muscles bunching under her fur with the effort. Delighted, she sent a loud whinny through the air, and tossed her mane excitedly.