Breaching the Mist

I marched straight up to the windowsill to scout the morning horizon, but an impenetrable wall of dense fog dared to block my view! Huffing with outrage, I planted my oversized flippers apart and threw a rapid series of fierce wing-strikes against the cold windowpane. Tap-tap-slap! The thick glass didn't budge an inch, but my furious flurry left a neat grid of duck-print smears across the condensated glass. Standing panting in a rigid horse stance, I stared down the foggy void until a faint golden patch of morning light blinked through the grey. Victory!