Ted turned towards Mad.
"Why would it be a sign?" the high cor asked.
"It is not a suitable sight for this climate, for example," the scientist said.
Madorn had forgotten his cigarette. It was not burning idly in his hand, and it looked badly like it would burn his fingers soon as well.
The black horse was a sight to behold, though. Its slender body rippled from the sheer effort of keeping its notable muscles warm in the freezing weather. Its breath came from its nostrils as loud puffs, but something was wrong - there was no visible indication that it was breathing.
Ted could see his own breath. He could not see the breath of the black horse.
"I think you are right," he whispered. "It is some kind of an omen. But a good one or a bad one? Who knows?"
"If the white one is bad...doesn't it naturally follow that the black one is a good one?"
