Back at Sunny’s house, I flopped down on the couch feeling completely exhausted. Normally a good walk around a town, even a skate session, would leave me just tired, but I felt completely spent. My joints felt sore again, and my muscles ached from all the biking to and from the forest. I took some painkiller pills from a bottle in my suitcase and downed them with a glass of water.
“Let’s see, how to carve a tree branch…” I thought out loud, massaging my joints with one hand and typing on my iPad in the other. I soon found the right video in my offline directory and slouched back on the sofa to watch.
Part of my plan was to visit Bridlewood and see what the unicorns had to offer in terms of historical knowledge of magic pertaining to inter-dimensional wormholes. And, of course, I wanted to meet Izzy and show her all the cool stuff I owned. But to appear more inviting, I figured I’d attempt to blend in a little, so it was time to figure out how to make a unicorn horn headband.
Outside, I peered under the bushes around the lighthouse, looking for any useable branches to whittle. It appeared to be fruitless, pun unintentional. I headed down the trail towards the town a little, before kneeling down and peering into more bushes. Again, everything looked pencil-thin and scattered. My eyes suddenly lit up as they noticed a large Y-shaped branch, tucked under a bush near a tall tree in the distance. I ran over, reached in, and pulled it out… only to feel a slight sting from a few ants.
“Ew,” I muttered, slapping and smacking them dead, before observing the branch against the glare of the setting sun. The two side “forks” were about as thick as my finger, but the main branch was a little over twice as thick. Perfect.
I rushed through the door and yanked the zipper on my luggage, pulling out my survival knife and a small towel. Flopping down on the sofa, I started whittling away, first cutting the main branch into a five-inch stump, then gently shaving off the bark and soft flesh into a thin, pointy cone shape.
The door opened with a click, and Sunny stepped in, pushing her rollerblades onto the shoe mat.
“What a day,” she sighed, rubbing a sore hoof.
“Hey Sunny,” I replied, smile slightly fading from my lips. “Looks like you’ve had a long day, huh?”
She nodded with a wince upon stepping into the kitchen and setting down her bag. “Indeed. Lots of customers and a big event to cater to, the organizers of which didn’t really know what they wanted. I felt like a seesaw.”
“Ouch,” I whispered. “I can imagine what your feet must feel like right now. Let’s RICE up those hooves.”
“Huh?”
“It’s an acronym,” I explained, carefully setting aside the towel, knife, and wood. We rose up on the elevator, and I helped Sunny on to her bed. I took another towel out of my backpack, rinsed it in cold water, and wrapped it around her front hooves, which I elevated with a log pillow. My hands felt floppy from the adorable power of her droopy solemn eyes as I served some cooked beans for dinner, and for a moment I felt more like a father than a good friend.
“Would you like me to read a story?”
Sunny’s lips parted into a slight smile with a teeny-tiny blush. “No thanks, I’m much too grown-up for that.”
I shrugged with a coy smile. “Are you sure? Stories are great no matter your age. I could tell you about tomorrow’s plans though.”
Sunny raised her head and smiled. “Alright. What’s in your sights – besides me, of course.”
I fought back an eye-roll and sat down on the bed. “What I want to do is go to Bridlewood. Bit torn as to how though – take the submarine along the west coast, or cycle through the forest. My adventurous spirit which we sorta share coaxes me to the latter, but my achy, sore body tells me to do the latter at a later date. Before I leave, however, I want to pay Phyllis a visit. Perhaps I can shed some light on a new, harmonious way of utilizing her current gadgetry.”
“Anything about Bridlewood that interests you?”
“Ancient books on inter-dimensional travel spells.”
“I see. Sounds like a cool quest. I’m in!”
A popping noise from a joint solidified my decision as I stood up. “We’ll take the sub there on the weekend. For now, I need to find a spa, ease out this battered body, and generally take it easy. And so should you.”
“Goodnight Aiden.”
“Goodnight, my little pony,” I said, smiling as I closed her bedroom door.
Back downstairs, I washed the dishes and helped myself to Argyle’s study area, continuing work on the branch. It looked a little blocky, so I carefully whittled the edges a tiny bit, before using a diamond-tipped point tool to etch a Celtic cursive pattern into it. It was tedious, almost painful, but my nightfall it was done. I used some glue to fasten it to a thick strip of elastic wrapped in some scrap khaki fabric, held by a clasp at the back of my head. It was hard not to pull a smug face as I looked in the mirror at a rather unofficial unicorn pro.
With some paper towel, I wiped away the wood shavings and sawdust, before heading back upstairs and prepping for bed. As I uncurled my sleeping bag and laid it out on Argyle’s bed, my mind drifted off to various places – the little moment of affectionate care I’d shown to Hitch, the makeshift camp at the clifftop, calming the fears of three cute kids…
“I could really get used to living with ponies,” I told myself with a smile, gently pushing the window ajar and slipping away into a sore, achy sleep.