The Heavy OneOne Who Smells Like Flowers
They do this all the time.
I watch them disappear down the rocky canyon, flicking my ears in mild annoyance. Beside me, Buttercup stands too still, all calm and patient like a horse with no opinions. I, however, have many.
I paw at the ground and swish my tail dramatically.
Why do they always do this?" I wonder, staring after them.
It does not take long for boredom to set in.
First, I eat all the grass within reach.
This lasts only a few short minutes because there is hardly any grass to begin with. And, of course, Buttercup is eating it too.
Then, I decide to entertain myself by nipping Buttercup's tail and quickly looking away.
The first few times, Buttercup responds with an angry grunt and a scathing look. But by the fourth time—
SMACK.
Buttercup kicks me in the shoulder.
Very rude.
With no tail-nipping entertainment available, I look for something else to cure my boredom. My eyes land on the sad excuse of a tree I am tied to.
I give it an experimental nibble.
I eat it anyway.
Buttercup watches in silent frustration as I eat all the leaves. Then the smaller branches. Then the bark.
But I keep going.
Eventually, half the tree is gone.
Then, due to my superior power of observation, I notice something important.
I am no longer tied to anything.
I stare at my reins for a moment, ears twitching, still chewing.
Then the realization hits.
.
No ropes. No restrictions. I can do anything.
Anything at all.
And right now?
I march toward it with great purpose.
The further the flowers, the tastier they must be.
I munch happily, completely lost in my very important task of taste-testing the local flora.
Then—
Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
My grand adventure is rudely interrupted by a sharp nip from Buttercup.
I blink, looking up from my latest flower conquest.
This place is…
Not where I was before.
Not the unfamiliar place I had been tied up at.
No, this is a completely different unfamiliar place.
I look at Buttercup.
Buttercup looks at me.
Buttercup does not look impressed.
I flick my ears.
How did we get here?
…
I do not know.
But I do know one thing.
There are more flowers even further away.
I am not going to be dissuaded by Buttercup's bad attitude.
She could snort and grunt all she wanted. She could nip if she felt bold.
But I am undaunted.
The flowers were delicious.
I continued my very important mission, sampling all the tasty, colorful plants.
I was doing a great job.
And yet…
Somewhere in the back of my mind, between mouthfuls of delicious petals, I had the nagging feeling that I was forgetting something.
Something… important.
If it was important, it would come back to me.
I was too busy.
But then—
The Smell.
Something even better than flowers drifted toward me on the wind.
Something rich. Savory. Delicious.
I have a new mission.
A noble quest.
To identify and claim this holy grail of…
…what I assume is food.
It must be food.
It smells too good not to be food.
It is my destiny.
With ears perked high, I trotted off toward the glorious scent, my nose twitching with excitement.
Buttercup sighed.
Then, after a moment, followed me.
Before long, the source of the heavenly aroma came into view.
A campsite with two wagons.
And a group of smelly humans huddled around a fire.
And, most importantly—
A big, wonderful, magical pot hanging over that fire.
The glorious smell was coming from that.
At this moment, nothing in the world mattered more than eating whatever was making that delicious smell.
And when I set my brilliant, unmatched, and obviously superior brain to something, I pursue it with the unyielding focus and determination unique to creatures of exceptional intelligence.
I picked up the pace, eyes locked on the pot of wonders.
Buttercup sighed again.
And followed.
I carefully creep forward.
Avoid the smelly men.
Eat the delicious food.
Those are my priorities.
The first one is difficult.
There are many smelly men. At least fifteen. And they reek of old blood, dirt, and sweaty leather.
I wrinkle my nose.
The second priority, however, is much more urgent.
As I sneak closer, I flick my ears toward the voices of the smelly men.
They are loud.
“How long do we have to sit out here?” one of them grumbled.
“I just need to rest a little longer,” another muttered, sounding exhausted.
“What, so we’re stuck out here while you take a nap?” a third complained.
“Can’t you just try the transport spell?” asked another, impatiently.
“I need to restore my mana first.” The exasperated one again.
“You’ve been resting for six hours! Can’t you just try?”
“Look, if I don’t have enough mana, the spell will fail and kill all of us.”
I don’t know what they are bickering about.
I also do not care.
I reach the back of a wagon and peek over the edge.
Oh.
Inside the wagon sit two beastkin, an elf, and a dwarf.
They have ropes tied around their hands and feet.
I blink.
The ones who walk on two legs do many odd things.
They wrap ropes around their limbs.They never eat flowers. They are so loud. They never pull wagons.
I am about to move on (not my problem) when I have a very important realization.
I know one of them.
The tall-eared one.
My ears perk up immediately.
I trot forward.
Buttercup sighs.
And follows.
Diana sees me and her golden eyes widen with surprise.
She immediately starts beckoning us over.
I step closer, happy to see my old friend. Surely she has a correl-root for me!
Diana used to take care of me back when I lived with the One Who Wore Furs, before I went to live with the Heavy One.
However, instead of reaching for snacks, Diana holds out her tied hands.
I blink.
What is this?
The ropes are not just wrapped around her wrists.
They are tied to the wagon.
I tilt my head in incredulous bewilderment.
The silly two-leggers have gotten themselves tangled.
Stuck.
Tied to a wagon.
I sigh through my nose.
Beside me, Buttercup sighs harder and begins chewing through the ropes.
I blink.
That is a great idea. But that makes no sense.
Buttercup has no good ideas. Clearly, she must have gotten the idea from me at some point.
And if it's my idea, I better help her.
So I start chewing too.
But I am still hungry.
Still bored.
So I chew.
The smelly men keep arguing.
Their voices make my ears twitch.
"I only bottomed out my mana because you idiots needed help taking down those two guards!"
"No one told us there were going to be guards."
"We've been here WAY too long! Someone's going to come looking for these slaves—I think they belonged to someone important."
"Why didn't you bring mana crystals? Some mage you are."
"You know I still have enough mana to burn your ruddy face off."
They keep talking.
I keep chewing.
And finally—
The ropes snap.
Diana does not give me a correl-root.
Instead, she and the other two-leggers scramble onto our backs.
Diana and the elf climb onto me.
The horned one and the dwarf onto Buttercup.
I do not mind. Two-leggers often like to ride our backs on the way to getting snacks.
Maybe they will give me snacks after.
That must be it because they are very insistent that we leave.
At first, we walk..
Then—
"FASTER!"
Buttercup and I break into a full gallop.
The two-leggers hold on for dear life.
