fly so high that i need to come down for oxygen

Weather was a lot weirder than Zephyr had given it credit for. In Auster he had been born in what he knew as winter. He had cozied up in the inside structure of a chimney for warmth and had hidden away in the castle to avoid the chill winds outdoors. It wasn't an exciting season by any means, but it had felt short as he used the time to get to know his new family.

Winter had then broken to give way to spring. It was the time when new flowers had begun to bloom, animals all across the continent began the process of birthing new litters, and the sun had melted away the snow. A peaceful time, and a relief on the back of a cold winter.

Next had come summer - his favorite time of year, without contest - and introduced him to heat waves, thermal winds, a scorching sun in the sky, and to how cool and crisp a drink from the stream felt after a long period of exertion. The season would never be long enough, there would always be too much to do and explore, berries to eat and cool summer nights to glide across.

Zephyr also knew what was supposed to come next. He'd never experienced autumn, but he'd been told enough to know what it preceeded - another cold winter. More snow, more wind, less time outdoors and more nights huddled around a roaring fire. He had begun the process of mentally preparing himself for the chill to return and the sunny hours to dwindle once more, at least this time he had a mostly full body of feathers for protection against the wind. It was a disappointing end to the 'year' - or was it?

It was time for another trip with Artorias, the wolf he'd come to know as father. This time rather than exploring a nearby territory, or teasing him with sights just across the bifrost, they were headed out to Boreas itself. The landmass had interested him ever since the day the Aegis had pointed it out just beyond the expansive waters. Artorias had explained that it was time for the two of them to make their way to the adjoined continent, and more then that - in Boreas, it was spring.

The revelation was a rather large one for the young raptor, who'd resigned himself to six months of miserable cold out of the year. Spring turned into summer, and then summer to fall, but by the time autumn had reached the northern landmass spring would be returning to Auster! One could live entirely in the warm, happy seasons and dodge the cold entirely, should they be so intelligent as to travel correctly. It posed the question - why didn't everyone 'winter' in Boreas? Obviously their castle wouldn't be mobile, but Artorias had explained that they had many family members north of the bifrost. Couldn't one of them take the pack in, until things warmed up? There was no downside, in Zephyr's young mind.

He continued to contemplate this train of thought as he glided off the crystalline cliffs that bordered the ocean shore. They provided height beyond anything he'd encountered in Auster, and the ocean winds repelling off the stone made it possible for him to recover from the glide and propel himself back up, when his altitude dipped too low. It was the most enjoyable practice of flying he'd experienced so far, and each time he returned to his watchful father on the cliff, the grin on his beak had grown wider.

Zephyr felt the familiar weight to his wings and chest that was his early warning sign he was beginning to tire. It was time to return to his father for another break, and this time as he banked to return to the rocky outcropping, he had a question on his beak. "Why can't we come back here every winter? I don't like the snow." A sudden gust of wind caught him beneath his partially outstretched wings and he wobbled against it, folding them in tight and frowning out into the sky. It seemed even nature itself wanted him to remain and play on it's breeze - even if that breeze was brewing into something stronger.

"Zephyr"