Unpredictability Is A Good Look

The sun was blazing in the bright blue sky. Dust was getting picked up by the strong winds, blowing all around before digging into a deep-red pelt. Ficus galloped through the sandy rocks, bouncing off any slight ledge he could find. He didn’t know where he was, nor did he care, but he was having the time of his life. His bell jingled pleasantly in his tail with each thrum of his hooves, every hop, every leap. It had been a long and dreadful morning, getting fussed over and primped for hours was not on his list of “most favorite pastimes.” So he ran as soon as he had the chance. Now, as he weaved between cacti and other dry and/or thorny plants, he whinnied and neighed.

But, of course, something always has to happen, because what would life be without a little excitement? Ficus skid to a halt, a cloud of dust kicking up at his hooves as his head shot up, staring ahead through the dry shrubbery. There was a thin stretch of road, just beyond a short ledge. On the shoulder, an old blue truck sat still, sputtering uselessly as two felines examined the under-hood, one orange, one brown. Ficus tilted his head curiously, his lip lifting as he tried to smell whatever he was looking at. Nope, too far. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to… get a little closer? These creatures looked harmless after all.

So Ficus pranced forward and slid down the sandbank, wasting no time in trotting on over with an almost confident (or maybe arrogant) gait. The orange feline, the one halfway inside the hood of the truck, shot up as they were lightly nudged by the brown one. Orange gasped aloud when they saw the gelding making its way towards them. Brown, though lacking much of a reaction, flicked their ear, clearly intrigued.

Orange fumbled around, wiping the dirt off their hands, “What do I do?!” They muttered in a panic, unsure how to move forward with this interaction, “I don’t have a bridle or anything-”

“Just walk up to it, Charlie,” Brown-cat huffed out quietly, stepping back to lightly nudge Orange, who was apparently named Charlie, “They don’t look particularly skittish.”

Charlie glared over at the other feline before she shuffled forward a little. Ficus, who had been sniffling curiously at the electric blue vehicle, lifted his head to look at the feline walking up to him. He didn’t dart off like she had expected. It was a little uncanny seeing a horse so… not scared of two unfamiliar creatures. She hesitantly lifted a paw up, standing just a couple feet away.

Contrary to what she expected to happen, Ficus walked right up and lipped at her paw before nudging his muzzle up against the pad. Charlie shot a bewildered look over her shoulder at the other cat, who shrugged and crossed his arms, leaning against the front of the vehicle.

Charlie turned her attention back to Ficus, still utterly confused, “Hi, honey…” She almost cooed. Her eyes trailed over the dusty, dark coat of the gelding, looking for injuries, or a brand, or literally anything that could tell her as to why this horse was so friendly. She stroked his snout, muttering under her breath, “Are you someone’s horse?”

But then her green eyes settled on the bell ribbon tied around his short tail. Her jaw dropped open. What the hell was up with all these runaway horses? First Gaz, now this poor thing? Good grief… “Oh boy,” She sighed, glancing back at the brown cat, “Casey, this one ran away from someone.”

“Of course,” Casey hummed and drummed his paw against his upper arm,

“We don’t have a halter.. Ugh… Do you have any service? Maybe we can call someone.”

Casey walked around the other side of the vehicle and opened the door to fish out his phone. Charlie kept Ficus occupied, gently scritching the sides of the gelding’s neck,

“I only have a bar.” Casey called out. Charlie’s whiskers flexed in thought, trying to think of anyone they could call. She snapped her gaze over to Casey as an idea struck her,

“Red Rock is just ten minutes down the road. Call Caraway and see if he can send someone to get this little guy somewhere to stay for a bit,” Charlie ordered in that one determined tone she used when she had a quick-thinking moment. Casey nodded,

“Should I ask if they have any mechanics over there too,” He deadpanned as he dialed a number, Charlie gave him an unamused look over her shoulder as Ficus snorted, now lipping at her shoulder,

“I am wholly capable of fixing whatever is wrong with Big Blue,” She said matter-of-factly,

“For some reason I doubt that.”

“Casey.”

“Charlie.”

“Just call them before I-” She cut herself off as Casey lifted his phone to his ear. He walked a few feet away from Charlie and Ficus, hand on his hip and tail swishing idly behind him as he spoke into the device. 

Charlie looked back at the bald-faced pony,

“Can you believe him?” She whispered, “What an asshole, right?” Ficus let out a little whinny in reply. Charlie sighed in exaggerated relief, “I am so glad you agree with me… I think we’ll get along great.”

Ficus nodded, almost as if he could understand the feline, “Why’re you out here anyway? You don’t really look like you… y’know… belong out here.”

They maintained eye-contact before Charlie let out an ‘Ah’ of understanding, “I seeee… Totally on the run from something, typical…”

Before their conversation could continue, Casey walked back on over, “Someone is on their way.”

“Oh, good. I was just getting to know our new buddy here.” Charlie ruffled Ficus’ forelock, earning a nicker from the gelding. Casey had to stifle the subtle grin that threatened to overtake his features,

“Does he like us?”

“Mm, well enough. Maybe he’ll stick around long enough for our ride to get here.”

“Here’s to hoping. Did you name him yet?”

Charlie took a long look at the gelding, taking in his curious, bright brown eyes, his stark white face, and his surely-gorgeous red pelt (that was still caked in sand and dust). Another moment passed before she grinned proudly, her tail flicking behind her,

“I think Fig is fitting…”