Defiant

He stands, head thrown back, defiant in the freezing mountain wind. The setting sun paints him with its blood-red glow. His eyes are like sunlight reflecting on ice, unbearably intense.

His feet are set apart, planted firmly on the cold, grey rock. Snow swirls lazily around him in the frigid breeze. Thin black cotton trousers are his only protection from the cold, yet he does not tremble. He is as unmovable as the mountain upon which he stands. His long, dark hair flicks idly at his muscular shoulders, swirling like a horse's mane. His arms are tense by his side, fists clenched.

Suddenly he shifts his feet, and jumps. He falls gracefully through the swirling snow and lands, rolling, on the frozen surface of the mountain slope below.

And he runs.