Up in the Air (Open)

Flying, what a perfect day for flying. Cyrus stumbled in to the stables, a little tired, and a little hungry. He'd skipped out breakfast to do the thing he did best. As Cyrus chose a pegasus, foot steps pitter pattered at the door step. Someone else was here, Cyrus wasn't the only one who had noticed it was a great day for flying. He pulled himself over a large white pegasus, peppered with gray here and there. Cyrus was of course wearing black again, it wasn't even like he tried to dress like that, it just ended up happening. Cyrus supposed he was called a punk once or twice, but he didn't really mind.

Cyrus slowly led the horse out of his stable. He dipped his head around, looking for the other person. Whoever it was must have already slipped into a private stable. Cyrus shrugged and began to trot along. As he reached the door, he heard someone say. "Hey." Cyrus turned around the pegasus and went in the direction of the voice. He noticed a tinge of fodder on the pegasus's coat.

As Cyrus plucked the brush from the magnificent mane, he answered. "Hey, there. Names Cyrus."