Fairy Tale - Too Tired to Fly

"I have another one... this one is pure genius." Hardlee rubbed his wings together and looked expectantly at Fiasca. "Are you ready to be elucidated by my wisdom?"

Fiasca, who had stopped listening to Hardlee several jokes ago, murmured, "Why not?" She continued to consider the towering horse in the field before them. The horse had noticed the two fairies standing nearby, and was keeping a nervous eye on them.

"All right here we go... No animal is more loyal than a horse. Any bond you form with them is entirely stable." A gust of laughter burst from Hardlee. "Why are you staring at me that way, Fiasca?" Hardlee asked. "You see, the joke is funny because you keep horses in a stable, and "stable" can also mean reliable..."

"I understand why it's funny," Fiasca said. "But you made the same joke a few minutes ago." Fiasca wondered how hard it would be to get onto the horse. If the horse had been in the middle of the woods, it would be an easy thing to climb a tree and drop onto his back. An open field presented a more difficult problem. She and Hardlee had been flying out in the hot sun for hours, and her wings were tired. The green bag slung over Hardlee's back was heavy with the herbs and flowers they had gathered. Fiasca wasn't sure she had the strength to chase after the horse, and by the way the horse was watching them, she and Hardlee weren't about to sneak up on it.

"Did I already tell that joke?" Hardlee said. Another burst of laughter escaped from his mouth. "Well, you know what they say; a joke gets better the more often you hear it."

"No one says that, Hardlee."

"I am afraid you're wrong Fiasca. I just did." The smile on Hardlee's face faded when he realized Fiasca wasn't paying attention. "Well, you've stared at that horse long enough. How about we start back home?"

"We can ride the horse back," Fiasca said.

"Uhh... Fiasca... that horse is huge...and he doesn't look too friendly."

"What's the worst that could happen?" Fiasca said. "You can't fly with that heavy bag, Hardlee. And my feet are too tired to walk. Just think how much quicker we'll make it home on a horse!"

"You can shout yourself hoarse, Fiasca, I am not getting on that thing." Hardlee grinned. "You see, that's another joke."

Fiasca shook her head.

"Well, you know the way home," Hardlee said. Dragging the green bag behind him, he turned back the way they had come.

The horse was still grazing. Fiasca took a deep breath and gave her wings a tentative flap. She ran towards the horse as fast as she could, and leapt into the air. Her tired wings had almost given out just as she reached the horse's side. Reaching out, she grabbed his mane.

The moment before, the horse had been enjoying the lush green grass and the warm sun on his back. He was jolted out of his contentment by two small hands clenching his mane. The horse bolted.

"Whoa!" screamed Fiasca. She grappled her way onto the horse's neck. The ground blurred below her. For an animal so large, the horse managed to twist and buck surprisingly easily. For what seemed an eternity, the horse sped around the field as he tried to shake her off. By the time he slowed down to a canter, then a trot, and then a walk. Fiasca's arms were just as sore and tired as her feet and wings.

"Hey Fiasca! Nice job on the horse!" Hardlee shouted. He ran over to her with the green bag in tow.

Fiasca smiled back at him. "Pass up the bag, Hardlee! Then you can climb up!"

"I'm pretty sure I'll still make it home faster on my own," Hardlee said. "You don't have any way to control the horse. How are you going to make him go the way you want?"

Fiasca suddenly realized she didn't have reins to guide the horse. "What shall I do now?" she wondered out loud.

Hardlee chuckled as he pulled the green bag onto his shoulders. "It seems that horse riding is foal of problems."