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Whiskey and Water

Afternoon light drew long shadows before me, cast flickering stream ripples onto the overhanging willow trunks. I sipped slowly from the cup cradled in my right hand, peat drifting across my tongue.

I probably should have been surprised when the horse rose from the water. Droplets sprayed over me from his black mane as he paced up the bank. I lifted my cup, and the kelpie bent his muzzle to inhale the rich vapors.

Shakily I rose, his flank cold and damp where I leaned for support. He watched me from one eye, head canted back, silver tracery glinting on his dark leather bridle.

He knelt when I failed at boosting myself onto his back. Were his victims ever in need of so little coaxing, or so much help? Cruelty or compassion, I needed no glamour to ride him into the depths. Here, now, while I could make my own choice.

[Fanfic? Maybe.]

One Comment

  1. Sally says:

    You make me want to ride the deeps with a kelpie.

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