Sleigh Bells (solo)

On the Mansion bulletin board, an announcement was up: Free Sleigh Rides, courtesy of Guingalet. The date was tomorrow. Today? The nineteen year old shoved a group of kids back inside the gate, and closed it in their faces.

“Aww, com’on—”

“Just one—”

“You’re mean.”

The nineteen year old stuck out his tongue. Of course he was mean: he was an Order member. Really, they were lucky he wasn’t eating them. Or... something that the slightly more bad*** Order members might do. Not that this, friends, was not bad***. He pulled his aviator goggles down over his eyes, and climbed into the shopping cart. The last in a line of three, tied together with bungee cords.

In front of the Mansion gates, the sidewalks were relatively clear: child labor had taken care of most of the snow shoveling. Down the block, the sidewalk seemed to fall away in a premature horizon line. That, friends, was a hill.

At the head of the shopping carts, the black stallion stamped its hoof. The brown-haired boy with the aviator goggles gave a grin and tightened his grip on the cart’s sides.

Shopping carts, bungee cords, and a horse. Nothing could go wrong here, friends. Nothing.

“Guingalet! Go!”

Not that he needed to say it. He was the horse, every bit as much as he was the boy. But these things, friends, these epic things: they must be announced. The stallion took off, its hooves pounding against the snowy ground. Horse, carts, and rider disappeared down the crest of the hill, going faster than sanity itself.

“Woohooo—!”

Moments later, the children winced at the echoing crash. Shopping carts, bungee cords, a horse, and a patch of ice in front of a snow bank.

The children winced again, as car horns blared. As snow banks go, that one just hadn’t been deep enough.

Totally. Worth it.