I feel the wind battering against my aching wings; I feel every single hailstone that hits my sodden form. My coal coloured eyes glare up into the inky blackness of this winter night that has given me silent protection from unwanted eyes. I turn ever so slightly to the left, trying to avoid the worst of the wind god's vengeance. Then my nostrils flair and my ears stiffen. An all too familiar scent has touched the air. I bank sharply to the right and set a new course, this Pegasus has found a better destination, camp can wait. Donuts.