The Final Crusade

by Enfield

The Problem With Storms

Enfield let go of Scootaloo and shut the door behind him and went to get some sleep. He felt rather good by letting Scootaloo spend the night at his house rather than in the box that she usually slept in. He wondered why no-one had done anything about it earlier but he was too tired to think anymore, the hot chocolate and fuzzy feeling he had was slowly making him more sleepy.

Several hours into the night and the storm sounded as if it would never let up. Enfield had woken up a few times but he fell asleep a second later. One particularly loud bang startled Enfield so much he grabbed his 1911, thinking that someone was shooting at his house. The flashlight beam on the gun swept across the room, Enfield lowered the gun and rubbed the side of his head.

“Just the storm, Brit,” he whispered. Enfield switched off the flashlight and turned on the lamp, he looked toward the door and saw Scootaloo standing in the hallway. Enfield climbed out of the bed.

“You okay there?” he asked.

“No,” Scootaloo said.

“You want to sit and talk about it?” Enfield asked patting the end of the bed. Scootaloo shifted nervously and slowly walked over.

“Well, truth is, I’m scared of storms,” she said. A flash of lightning and thunder followed, Scootaloo yelped and ran straight to Enfield and grabbed hold of him. Enfield could feel her tremble, he put his front legs around her and hugged her.

“It’s okay,” he said softly, “You’re safe in here.”

“I can’t get back to sleep like this,” Scootaloo said. Enfield held her head tighter to his chest.

“Just listen to my heartbeat,” he said, “Focus on that and you’ll be asleep in no time.”

Scootaloo pressed her ear to Enfield’s chest and shut her eyes, Enfield sat and waited for her to fall asleep. He felt much more calm now and he could feel Scootaloo’s breathing slow and relax. Soon, she was asleep. Enfield carried her back to the spare room and set her down gently on the bed. Enfield pulled the covers over her and set the blue feather that she gave to him on the bedside table. He then kissed Scootaloo on the forehead.

“Sweet dreams Scootaloo,” he whispered.
Enfield left her room and went back to his. He stopped about halfway down the hall, his expression changed from pleased to utter disgust. He furrowed his brow and scratched it in frustration.

“I cannot believe I just said that,” he said to himself.

Comments

[Fawkes]

Wait... She ran from guns! How is she afraid of a storm?!