a race along the wall

Zephyr had been so caught up in his imaginings - standing proud upon the crumbling wall with wings outstretched, basking in the cheers of a hundred invisible spectators - that he'd not heard the stallion come up on him. When the voice rang out, his attention was grabbed so swiftly that he fell straight off of the stone in surprise, landing with a heavy thud upon the snow-touched tundra that the wall had been built to bisect. He could not lay there long (not with a weird looking stranger nearby) and so he forced himself to his talons quickly, making small hops to see over the crumbled portions over to the long snout beyond. Oddly enough, he looked vaguely familiar.. almost like a creature he'd met once but already forgotten the name of.

Hopping wasn't getting Zephyr anywhere. With a soft huff he trotted alongside the stone, arching his vulture like neck up and down as he found various holes in the wall, sneaking peeks at the odd creature until finally he'd found a portion he could climb up and over, facing him once more. "You're a horse!" He exclaimed suddenly, the word returning to him. "I met a horse once, she was very kind and very fast. Are you very fast? Maybe instead of pretending to race, I could have a real opponent!" Stamping his talons excitedly in the frigid snow, he outstretched a wing along the wall, across the barren tundra toward the east. There, Zephyr knew there to be water. "How about to the water and back, unless you're chicken?"