a race along the wall

Zephyr had found his way east from the Col, escaping the cold mountain winds and finding instead... cold, ocean winds. Crap. He'd walked most of the way across this part of the tundra, keeping his wings pressed in tight against him for warmth until he spied the distant wall. Would it break some of the wind? Even the small chance of a warmer place was enough to drive Zephyr forward, and he waddled as fast as he could to shelter himself against the tall stone.

Sitting against the rock to allow himself a chance to warm up a bit, he began to contemplate what came next. The north was boring. Maybe it felt so cold because there was nothing to do! Even in the rainy season of Auster when the weather was miserable, he could stave away the chill with exercise or a game. Here, the northern wolves seemed much less interested in playing. Zeph was lost for how to proceed, considering even playing pretend with himself like he used to when he was a hatchling.

Clambering to his talons, the determined bird decided to entertain himself. He scaled the crumbling wall, outstretched his wings, and called out to the imaginary spectators surrounding him. "Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls! Today you will witness the glory of the finest raptor in the world, partaking in his first ever race!" A grin was spread upon his beak, so lost in his imaginings that it was easier to forget the cold....