Ol’ Slippy, my new horse, given to me as a gift for my intervention in Nod by one of the captains, was already beginning to tire. Slippy was huffing and wheezing with every gallop. Clop. Huff. Clop. Wheeze. I know what you’re thinkin’. That’s pretty much what you’d expect out of a horse by the name of Ol’ Slippy. But Slippy was said to be able to ride to Hell and back… literally.
“Just a lil’ longer girl,” I say to her hoping to at least make it past the next town and maybe make camp on the other side, “you can do it.”
She doesn’t do it. She collapses. Fate never did like me all that much… ‘least so I’d heard. I got down off of her, my joints aching and popping with every movement. The inside of my boots chaffed my legs, my socks the only thing nearby which still contained moisture. I cracked my back with a quick twist of the waist. I breathed in deeply and felt fire fill my lungs, exhaling in a furious cough. I shook it off. I looked down at my not-so-trusty steed. She was just layin’ there catching some not-so-well-earned z’s. ‘To Hell and back’ my ass.