The Girl with the Pegasus P3“An injured horse you say?” Rodge, glad that he didn’t have to clean up the pile of dirt he had embarrassingly spilled just yet, caught up with them and started jogging in pace with father and daughter.When they reached the horse, Jeronimo was sitting by the colt’s head, with his hand on his nose. He looked up, with a relieved expression on his face, satnding up and out of the way. Minnaela walked over and joined him as Rodge and Rem both knelt down to servey the damage.“That’s a nasty little thing yeh got ther” Rodge said as he peeled back Jeronimo’s coat from the foal’s body. The foal’s entire flank was twitching with pained nerves and the colt himself kept bringing his head up with wild eyes, and then laying back down, at a loss for what to do.“Rodge, d’you have a cart we could use?”“Yes indeed I do! I get on that right away” Rodge stood quickly and ran down the path towards his lodgings wh
The Girl with the Pegasus P2Now, we have to take ‘best buddies’ out of conext here. After I said best buddies, you are probably now imagining that they were childhood chums who had adventures together, shared beautiful memories, rolled around in the dirt, and collectively got in trouble. But, best buddies in this instance meant that Minnaela used Jeronimo as her puppet/coverup and Jeronimo only did what she asked because she scared him. He was the only boy in the village that never teased Minnaela, because he what she was capable of. The bruises on his arm from Minnaela frequently punching him was a strong reminder of that fact.Jeronimo saw Minnaela turn off the path towards his home and wondered if he should hide, or go out and greet her. There was plenty of room in the pigsties to blend in to the dirt. No, he thought. He was better off complying with whatever mischief that crazy girl had up her sleeve. Besides, if she found he’d been hiding, she’d give him another good slug in the arm.
The Girl with the PegasusA small hoof poked out from behind a gigantic tree that loomed out over a clearing in the middle of the Trepidello Woods on a warm, cloudy night. It was white, and newly wet from the tongue that had been scraping over it just moments before by the mother of the hoof. Or, well, mother of the body that owned the hoof. That is to say, what appeared to be a small white horse was lying behind this tree and not just a lonely hoof. That, would creepy. Its mother stared down lovingly at her newborn colt, with all the love the mother could hold in those two big brown eyes. This little colt squeaked its new lungs out, trying with all its might to open its eyes and see the world; see what adventure was deemed worthy of its beholding. But, when the small white being opened its eyes, it didn’t see anything. The moon had been covered by dark, dangerous looking clouds. At first, this made the colt squeak and click all the more. Was this all that the world was, darkness? But then the warmth of b