"How about this one – the pegasus?"
Wind, scented with sea salt, tousled the blonde curls of a young girl. Her legs dangled over the edge of a tall, metal platform, hovering over the gently churning seawater below. Beside her sat a boy, a handful of years younger, who excitedly read to her from a book opened on his lap.
Paz giggled, and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Well, yes. But I think everybody has heard of that one."
Chico adjusted his cap, which had been nudged off-kilter by the Caribbean breeze. "The stories go as far back as ancient Greece. It's said that the pegasus was sired by the god, Poseidon, and—"
"Poseidon?" Paz interrupted. She stuck her tongue out, squeezed her eyes shut, and shuddered, as though she'd bitten into a lemon. "I have a hard time believing that."
"It's a big world!" said Chico, a touch defensively. "Who knows what's out there? I already have to deal with Snake doubting me; don't tell me you do too!"
"Sorry," said Paz. "I didn't mean to imply anything. I really do find this stuff interesting." She gestured at the book. "Keep going, please!"
Mollified, and finding himself quite unable to be mad at Paz, Chico continued. "Hundreds and hundreds of years ago, people saw the pegasus as a symbol of wisdom. Poets, especially, took inspiration from it. It says here..." He pointed at a particular passage in the book, and Paz leaned closer, her cheek nearly touching his shoulder. "That wherever the pegasus struck its hoof against the earth, a spring would bubble out, containing the music of the Muses." He snapped his fingers, as though he'd come to a sudden realization. "That must be why so many people used it as a source of inspiration – it was the music of the Muses the whole time!" He shut the book, sighing contentedly.
"You're really into this UMA business," Paz remarked.
"Can you blame me?" said Chico. "With all the mysteries still out in the world, who wouldn't find this stuff fascinating?"
"But you get so excited, so passionate, about it. It's fun to see!" Paz dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper "And I think some of it's starting to rub off on me!"
"Yeah?" Chico looked up, into Paz's baby blue eyes. It seemed to register to him, for the first time, how close their faces were. He felt his heart pulse rapidly, and his face grow hot. "You, uh... you're getting into this stuff too?"
"Mm-hm!" The wind tousled Paz's hair again; a springy, blonde curl brushed across Chico's forehead. "You know," she said, glancing away from him coyly. "After your revolution, when Nicaragua's at peace again, maybe you and I could take a trip together."
"Uh..." Chico's tongue suddenly felt thick and cumbersome.
"You know, around the world?" She playfully nudged his shoulder. "We could do some investigating, just you and me. Go to Loch Ness, and take a boat across the lake. Dive to the bottom looking for Nessie. I mean, just for example."
Chico swallowed – a purely reflexive action, as he had no moisture in his mouth to swallow – and managed a shaky nod.
Paz pecked him on the cheek. "It's a promise, then."
A filthy rag suddenly struck Chico in the back of the head, and fell to drape around his shoulders like a scarf. "Chico!" The voice was rough, raspy, and heavy with an English accent. "Time to pull your weight for once! I got a LAV-G with your name on it, caked in all kinds of shit!"
Chico pulled the rag off of his shoulder. His face burned red with shame. "Clean your own damn mess," he muttered under his breath.
"'Oy, you say somethin'?" Chico looked over his shoulder, at a strapping, muscular man in soiled tiger-stripe fatigues, toting an M-16 in his arms. His shaven head reflected light from the afternoon sun, and his face was sooty and streaked with blood – someone else's blood, seeing as he looked quite unscathed.
Through clenched teeth, Chico replied "I said 'sure thing, Swordfish.'" Under his breath, he added "tea-sipping gringo asshole."
"That's what I thought." He shouldered his rifle and backed away, smirking. "Make sure you get nice an' deep into the wheel-well; she's fresh from Honduras, and I think there's still half a torso stuck up in there."
Chico, still grumbling, climbed to his feet. "Yeah, why don't I get it nice and deep into your putana of a mother, you—"
"Chico?"
He glanced over his shoulder at Paz, still seated at the edge of the platform, smiling after him.
"Remember. It's a promise."
And for just a moment – for reasons he didn't quite understand – that promise was Chico's entire world.
Rainbow Dash lies pinned beneath a mass of rubble, helpless, as IRVING totters after her friends. She buries her face in the dirt and shuts her eyes tightly, waiting for whatever form her end would take.
She hears a thud, then footfalls, then something grabs her by the mane and painfully yanks her head up. She opens her eyes. A single point of light, bright blue and burning, meets her gaze.
Rainbow Dash curls her lip in disgust and spits a wad of bloody saliva into Trenton's face.
His grip on her mane tightens.