Chapter Thirty-Two: The Origin of Unpredictable Horse, pt. III

Chapter Thirty-Two: The Origin of Unpredictable Horse, pt. III

“A house. Cows. Sheep. Another house.”

James, a well-dressed six-year old boy sat with his parents in the third-class passenger carriage of a train. To pass the time, he named what he could see out of the window. With the train slowing as it reached the next station, his parents continued to ignore him, but he found it easier to see things in more detail. He enjoyed seeing the stone walls separating the farmers’ fields, and the thatched cottages off in the distance, barely visible over low rolling hills.

The train slowed further, and as James looked at a field just to the south, he saw something he had never seen before.

“Father?” he asked, not looking away from the window, but reaching with his left hand in the hope he could pull his father to see this also. “There’s something glowing in that field. Like a light, but many colours. That wasn’t there a moment ago.” His father shook his newspaper as a reminder to James that he was too busy to look at glowing things in fields. “Father?” James continued. “That horse in that field… that horse wasn’t there before.”

That horse took a moment to breathe. The air was calm and peaceful. He listened, and heard bird sounds he had never heard before. He looked up and saw small birds diving and swooping through the clear blue skies above. Swifts. He didn’t even know how he knew they were swifts, but he did. And he knew their full migratory patterns, how they flew from South Africa to this area in Southern England – oh yes, he was in England now – every year in late Spring, and rarely ever landed, preferring to spend all their time performing aerial tricks and eating insects in the skies.

He sniffed. From the air particles, he could tell he was in an earlier time. June 7, 1874, to be precise. That should throw the dragons off his back for a little while. Continue reading “Chapter Thirty-Two: The Origin of Unpredictable Horse, pt. III”

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Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Origin of Ringo, the Unpredictable Horse, pt. II

Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Origin of Ringo, the Unpredictable Horse, pt. II

“Wheee!” Ringo yelped with joy as the giant dragon he was on twisted and dove down towards the ocean in his latest desperate attempt to get rid of this stowaway horse.

After flips and twists, and even a crash into the water below, the horse somehow still managed to hold on. The Teleporting Trevor could not shake him off. He tried teleporting from ocean to mountaintop, from desert to tundra, and nothing seemed to faze the horse, who just seemed excited by everything he saw.

“Why won’t you let go?!”

“This is amazing!” Ringo said, oblivious to the dragon’s upset.

You might think that a horse riding on a dragon’s back might have a very hard time holding on, but for Ringo it was somehow very easy. It would have been harder, in fact, for him to let go. He didn’t know what was holding him on, but he also didn’t question it; that just was how it was.

Nothing The Teleporting Trevor did seemed to work, so after a final attempt to shake the horse over an active volcano in Vanuatu, he decided it was time to seek help. Continue reading “Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Origin of Ringo, the Unpredictable Horse, pt. II”