KIPLING

Everyone seemed so damn grouchy lately. Okay, it was hot as Satan’s asscrack, but that didn’t mean everyone had to be so fucking boring…

Kipling’s parents had hated the hotter months, too. It was one of many proclivities they failed to pass on to their bizarre offspring. The nomadic outcasts slept through the day and wandered through the less punishing night, leaving their colt more starved for attention than usual. Tallsun had been the season when Kipling learned to entertain himself. He began his own private explorations, sneaking off with sweat beading along the harsh lines of his ruddy adolescent coat. He delighted in the discovery of fresh pools and streams, relieving himself from the oppressive heat and stalking the flitting schools of freshwater fish. He was accustomed to solitude this time of year.

But Helovia was supposed to be different. These residents were nothing like Kipling’s parents the rest of the year – they were fun, and they had exciting talking turtles and ascended immortals and dragons and all kinds of crazy shit. They weren’t supposed to suddenly turn into dullards because of a little heat.

Alas. The colt’s entreaties for fellow adventurers went unanswered, and he found himself spending Tallsun days as he always had: alone in his explorations.

The land had grown familiar to him since his Frostfall arrival, and his travels were proportionally quicker. Kipling set off from the Falls after lunch when everyone seemed to be settling in for their afternoon siesta. Today, he had hung north and followed the thinning trees to the sandy expanse he had only ever seen from a distance on clear days. The wooded foothills yielded slowly to the shore, and the late afternoon sun was starting to sink when the rolling seas came into sight.

The Endless Blue was unlike anything Kipling had ever seen before. The water moved like the surface of a lake disturbed by wind, but with incomprehensible, rhythmic violence. More than anything, though, the colt was stunned by just how much of it there was. Water stretched before him as far as he could see, to a horizon that looked impossibly distant even to him – a unicorn who had never believed in “impossible”.

Giddyness overwhelmed him. Kipling flung himself forward from the clutching sand, racing for the sparkling sea and showing off his only notable physical attribute: his tremendous speed. The hot sun, unobstructed by clouds, drew a foamy lather to his coat and superheated his metallic horn in the short moments it took him to reach the water. Kipling bolted straight into the waves with a mighty splash, grinning wildly. By the time the deeper waters slowed his momentum, the Thoroughbred was chest deep in the waves and forced to paddle to stay above the swells as they rolled in. He was oblivious to any danger: the sea was the most perfect temperature he could ever imagine, and it felt grand as it saturated his slick, sweaty hide.

Kipling lolled about in the waves a while, letting them drag him back towards the shore with their great force. When he was near the beach again, he dipped his head for a drink and quickly spat the brine back out, spattering, “Yuck!” As he flicked his tongue and tried to rid it of the unpleasant taste, however, something caught his eye tumbling ashore with the next round of waves. Nasty attempt at refreshment forgotten, Kipling hurried over towards whatever it was.

It appeared to be a medium-sized wicker sack with short dual straps, and it bulged with unknown contents. Carefully, Kipling poked his horn through the straps and dragged it ashore, wet sand sticking to both the object and himself. Once he got it to dry land, he began to prod at it curiously. “Hello? Anyone in there?” This is when a more self-conscious horse would look around to make sure no one had overheard him talking to a bag. Kipling only continued to stare at it expectantly, stepping back and tilting his head every few seconds.

kids like you and me