>The colt inhaled sharply and braced himself.
>His hind legs shot like a stone from a sling and impacted the stem of the tree with an unimaginable force.
>Or, at least, he thought it was so.
>The stem itself, tough and covered in streaks of crystalized rosin, didn't even flinch.
>A couple of pine cones fell from the branches, silently making shallow craters in the puffy white snow.
>Fierce string of chirring came down from the height of the tree.
>The colt raised his head and looked up where, among the branches, an evidently pissed off squirrel showed him her tiny fist.
>"Oh, I'm sorry!"
>He dropped his ears in embarrassment.
>"Hey, didn't you hear Baba Hooves telling that we should always check if a pine is inhabited before bucking it?"
>An older filly, carrying a large woven basket full of cones, approached him.
>"I know, sis, I'm sorry."
>"Next time I'll leave you at the camp, to help with baskets. You clearly need to learn some more diligence. Would be a fine time if we angered the Woodland Spirits!"
>The colt scowled at her.
>She was only a couple of years older than him! And look at her, already trying to act like she is a full fledged mare!
>But Woodland Spirits are a serious business, she's right.
>He took cones from the snow and carefully put them near the roots of the tree.
>"Forgive me, o child of Woodland Spirits, for disturbing you. Take the cones as a sign of our good will."
>He uttered the ritual phrase, bowing to the tree and the squirrel, both.
>Then he retreated to his siter's side, trying to look like a perfectly rational adult.
>The squirrel looked at him with a peculiar expression for a few moments, then quickly descended from the tree, grasping the bark.
>She took one cone, examined it, and began to pluck out the nutlets, stuffing her cheeks with them.
>It seems the woodland spirits were merciful today.
>"Let's go, we have enough."
>The filly told him and walked away, raising her legs high, to not get bogged down in snow.
>The colt followed. He was still shorter than his older sister and had to jump up sometimes, like a snow bunny, to catch up with her.
>They traversed a vast snow field.
>The white snow was ridden with dark bundles of either deadwood or intact bushes, casting bizarre shadows in the light of low hanging sun.
>The sky was mostly clear, with occasional puffy gray cloud sailing through it.
>Their native land spread wide around them, as beautiful and stern as ever.
>The colt soon has forgotten about the cone-bucking fiasco. He was looking around, marveling at everything -- be it a copse of trees, flock of birds chirping in a bush or a cloud, looking like a fantastic creature.
>His sister, also inspired by the beauty of the nature around, began to sing.
>The colt joined her.
>When they left the plain behind and approached the shore, she abruptly paused.
>He looked at her, puzzled.
>"Look!" she pointed with her muzzle, "The puffins has retuned."
>The colt traced her gaze.
>On the steep slope running down to the sea he noticed them.
>They were indeed puffy, adorable blobs of feathers, standing on two bright red legs, webbed for better swimming. 
>Some of them were just standing around, either still or flapping their wings, soaking in the sunlight.
>Others, coupled in pairs, were diligently digging the slope, renovating their cave-like nests.
>While one of the pair was digging, the other was standing around, resting.
>When the current digger grew tired, he or she emerged from thee tunnel.
>They briefly nuzzled each other and then the second dived into the cave.
>Soon enough the huddles of ejected earth announced the recommenced work.
>"It's almost a spring already," noted the sister, "they have returned from the sea. Hopefully they brought along a good fishing for the upcoming season."
>Puffins, considered to be among the favorite children of the Sea Spirits, harbingers of the good catch, were highly revered by the taiga nomads.
>But the sister thought, that even if they weren't associated with fishing, they would've been still among her favorite inhabitants of the snowy lands, due to how cute they have been.
>"They're probably tired from all the swimming!" the colt exclaimed.
>He rummaged through his saddlebags and took out a couples of fishes from his travel ration.
>He approached the puffins' slope and slowly got closer to the nearest nest just as one of the diggers was emerging from the nest. 
>The puffins paused their nesting ritual and looked at the colt curiously.
>The birds weren't afraid of ponies, who never did them any harm.
>The colt lowered his head and put the fishes on the ground.
>"Please, take this, Children of the Sea." he said and slightly pushed his offering towards the puffin family.
>The two puffins looked at each other, then back at him, then approached, pattering with their shortish legs.
>One of them pecked at the fish a few times, investigatively. Then tore apart a long streak of fish meat and offered his wife.
>She took the offered food and began to eat.
>The male puffin tentatively approached the colt, who was still standing with his head lowered, reached with his beak and slightly nuzzled the colt's muzzle.
>Then he returned to the fish.
>The colt smiled brightly.
>He turned around and trotted back to his sister.
>"You did good, little bro!" she praised him.
>"Thanks. We could use some luck with fishing." he said prudently, with a look of importance on his face, trying to emulate an adult. "N-not at all because they're so cute or anything..."
>"Yeah, naturally!"
>The sister laughed.
>Two siblings continued their journey back to the camp.