"You know, they say when you close your eyes, your other senses get sharper to make up for it."
Twilight's breath came out in silvery puffs that faded in the brisk air before her. The warmth of the sun and chill of the breeze on her coat felt at once contradictory and complementary. A slight numbness in her cheeks nagged that it was time to go home, but the dawning sunlight scattered sparkles through the long shadows on the snow, beckoning her to stay. She re-positioned her scarf with an idle spell and took a deep breath through her nose, letting the cold outside fill her body with life and energy. The air slightly stung her throat as it passed, and she held it for a moment, finding a strange excitement in the cold ball trapped within her chest. When she released it, the puffs became a stream of condensation that vanished as quickly as it appeared.
Twilight giggled, despite herself. There was something oddly magical about seeing one's breath on a winter morning.
"That's right, Spike," she said to her companion. "Some ponies who lose their vision or hearing say that their remaining senses compensate for the one they lost. It's a fascinating example of how ponies adapt to their circumstances in unexpected ways."
The path before them was hard, swept clear of snow. Dormant trees kept silent guard around them, slumbering with the rest of nature. A snowbird fluttered from his perch as they drew near, sending a scattering of snow down on the walking pair. Twilight watched as it wove through the skeletal trees, its white plumage eventually blurring with the landscape.
"Pretty," she said.
"It's just a bird," Spike muttered.
The path was uneven beneath her hooves. Every tiny ridge, every microscopic divot had frozen in place, refusing to yield to her weight as she stepped. These tiny flaws upset her balance just enough, heightening her awareness of the ground beneath her in ways she would never have anticipated. The country trail was very different from the cobbled streets of Canterlot or the well-worn paths of Ponyville.
Strangely, it made her feel more alive.
She took another deep breath, savoring the distinctive yet unremarkable scent of cold. Beside her, Spike stared up at the sky. A flock of birds passed noiselessly overhead in a V formation, their dark bodies offering a stark contrast to the pale blue heavens.
A tugging on her shoulder brought her attention back below. "Look," Spike whispered, pointing. Twilight squinted. In the hollow of a tree, she could just make out the shape of a squirrel tucked beneath a blanket of twigs, the slow wisps of mist from its nose the only indication that it merely slept.
"Wow." Twilight lifted Spike onto her shoulders so he could get a better look. The cold in his feet pressed into her back as his familiar weight settled against her fur.
"She looks so peaceful," Spike said. "Hey, do you think her hearing is super strong since her eyes are closed?"
"I'm not sure that's how it works," Twilight answered, "but we better not disturb her."
She resumed her pace. The trail gradually gave way to snowdrift, and soon a quiet crunch accompanied them with each step. Her breath became a little more labored as she made her way up a hill, depositing tiny, frozen droplets on her face. Spike huddled on her back, sapping her body heat to supplement his own. She didn't mind; it was refreshing, in a way.
They crested the hill and looked down through a gap in the forest. In the distance, Ponyville was starting to wake up. From her vantage point, she could make out the tiny dots of ponies opening their shops and corralling fillies and colts to school. A few pegasi flitted up from the ground, casting shadows on a sun that was just clearing the horizon. Twilight presumed they were warming up their wings before setting in earnest to arrange the day's weather.
Whether by their wingbeats or a chance of nature, a slight breeze wafted up from the town, bringing with it the faint smell of coffee and cupcakes. Twilight's stomach rumbled. "Sounds like I'm ready for breakfast," she said. Spike yawned.
Twilight continued on the path before her, knowing it would eventually loop back into town. The snow shifted ever so slightly from time to time as she descended, turning a hoofprint or two into small gashes that measured how quickly she could react to the changing terrain. The snow gave way to earth, and once again she found a part of her mind monitoring every step and adjusting her balance accordingly on the uneven path.
Spike clambered off her back and resumed his pace beside her. Twilight squinted against the rising sun, which now lay directly before them. Its light glittered off the snow, adding to the growing sense of blindness Twilight felt. Despite the dazzle, she pressed forward, hoping a pegasus would push a cloud in front of the sun.
A soft snap nearby caused Twilight's head to jerk around. Four clouds of mist appeared and faded, and eight gold eyes watched her intently. Not thirty trots away, a pack of wolves crouched in the snow. Cold dragon claws gripped her back leg, but despite her initial panic, Twilight didn't spook, instead returning the wolves' gaze with her own.
One of the wolves took a step in her direction. Spike tugged on her tail, but she ignored him for the moment. It wasn't that she felt no fear; rather, she felt no threat. The frosted fur of the wolf's tail brushed the snow behind him. His fellows stood motionless behind him.
"Twilight." She could hear Spike's gritted teeth, her mind registered his fear, and yet she felt only calm connection.
The wolf howled. Spike darted behind Twilight's tail. Twilight made no move, no sound in response. The wolf fixed her with another stare, and then the pack moved away, continuing their own journey through the tundra.
Twilight felt Spike's anxiety melt. She turned to look into his wide eyes. "T-those were wolves," he stammered, and not from the cold.
"Yeah," Twilight agreed. She shook her head, as though she were coming out of a trance. "Yeah, they were." She looked around. The weather ponies were already brewing the scheduled snowfall, and the sky grew dark with clouds. "Come on. It's time to go home."
Their pace was a little more urgent than it had been before; in her wonder, Twilight had lost track of time. A quick stop to Sugarcube Corner secured their morning meal, and as the first snowflakes began to fall, Spike pushed open the library door.
A little magic lit a fire in the hearth, and soon the two had curled up under blankets by the fire. The warmth at first seemed harsh to Twilight's chill-touched skin, but it soon became comforting as she relaxed on the hard wood floor and took in the cozy smell of a thousand books. Twilight selected one at random and levitated it down to the floor. Beside her, Spike had curled up on a pillow and was beginning to doze off.
"You know," he murmured, "it's probably a good thing the sun was in our eyes."
"Oh?"
Spike nodded. "It probably made our ears stronger, so we heard those wolves sneaking up on us."
Twilight watched him as he faded into slumber, her book forgotten as her mind drifted back to that encounter. She didn't blame Spike for being afraid. Every book agreed that wolves were dangerous. Yet the memory of them brought with it no fear, no worry, none of the feelings she thought should accompany such a sighting. As the fire's shadows danced around her, Twilight relived her meeting with the wolves, picturing their thick, gray fur, narrow snouts and golden eyes. Her analytical side conjured facts and figures, from their preferred prey to their hunting patterns, and still the only feeling she could associate with the creatures was serenity.
Twilight adjusted Spike's blanket, and then her own. The feeling had returned to her face and hooves, and she resumed her place in her book. Perhaps, she decided, Spike was right. And though for different reasons, she had a feeling both were grateful for it.
