The rest of the herd ravaged their morning giggle cakes like a pack of wild dogtaurs, but Horse chewed every bite of hers slowly. She knew, logically, she should be picking up the pace, since every second savoring the flavor was a second that could be spent galloping towards the next Shaman. Now than ever, time was of the essence; her own body served as a ticking time bomb counting down to its own disfiguration.
Horse was adapting fine enough to this odd breakfast that Wammawink regularly conjured up. Initially, the pure sweetness shocked her palate; since Rider had to ration out their food intake and only stick to necessities, she wasn't used to a regular breakfast schedule, much less enjoying multiple flavors at a time. But when there was so much else with her that felt wrong, the sticky-sweet snack was actually quite normal in comparison. Horse always cherished the moments when she and Rider found secure enough refuge to appreciate a good apple or two.
So maybe savoring this strange food could keep Horse grounded for a little while longer.
Most of her herdmates were on their second or third serving by now. Glendale was frantically waving out her hands as Wammawink brought more food into the world; once Wammawink presented the stacks to her, the gerenuktaur practically shoved her entire forearm in her mouth to push the food deep into her gullet. Wammawink also made sure to toss a second serving high enough for Durpleton to grab in his mouth, and slammed Ched with another one so he'd stop bothering Zulius for a bite of his (the finchtaur was so tiny, wasn't one helping enough? Perhaps he just wanted an excuse to bother someone). The alpacataur did all of this with barely a turn of her head, as if she already knew exactly when and where her herd would be waiting for nourishment.
It was getting harder and harder to downplay how important Wammawink was to this mission. Without her magic, the herd would've starved long ago. Even Horse, with all her various survival skills, wasn't trained to track down food on her own. They were all lucky Wammawink woke up from her nap before Horse was forever relegated to a frozen figure on the beartaur's diorama.
As Horse bit off another piece of cake, she caught a glimpse of Wammawink's face. Despite the constant demands from her metaphorical babies, she seemed bright-eyed as ever. A closer look could reveal that the dark circles under her eyes hadn't fully faded yet, but she was close enough to normal to throw Horse for a bit of a loop. For a while, she'd assumed Wammawink had never experienced anything challenging in this chocolate-scented candy-colored bubble-butt world.
But that glimpse into her dream… the all-too-familiar sight of war…
How did Wammawink go on for so many years with absolutely nobody by her side? How did she manage to find four other creatures to join her family and provide for them with such ease? The longer Horse spent separate from her own family, the more she struggled to understand that.
But before Horse could have any sort of epiphany about coping with loss, she felt something fluffy press against her shoulder.
"Ho-orse~!" Wammawink sang into the horse's ear. "Last call for giggle caaaaakes~!"
Sheesh, Wammawink made it hard to take her seriously sometimes. But maybe that's the way she liked it.
"Oh, I'm still working on my first one," Horse replied, mouth still full of half-chewed magic food.
Wammawink tilted her head at a ninety-degree angle. "You sure there's no room for just one little bit more?" She held the cake right below Horse's chin. Horse was surprised she hadn't just shoved the food in her mouth. Maybe she was learning to respect Horse's space after all. "You need the energy, babygirl."
Horse never felt like that nickname suited her. At first, the idea that anybody would see her as their baby was just… utterly condescending. She was a grown mare – a warrior!
But now she had an idea of what Wammawink meant. Babygirlhood wasn't literal. Wammawink just wanted someone new to nurture. Maybe taking care of someone else made it harder to notice that nobody was taking care of you.
That had never been an issue for Horse, though. Rider took care of her, yes, but she protected Rider. Rider fed and brushed and sang to her, and Horse helped Rider navigate a dangerous unsteady battlefield in a way no human could manage on foot. They were equals. Even if Horse didn't know how to get food on her own.
…Right?
As Wammawink dangled delicacies in front of Horse's mouth, Horse wondered if Wammawink still saw her as a baby, or if she saw them as equals. She hoped it was the latter. Not just because she hated being someone's baby, but also… Wammawink shouldn't have to worry about keeping her safe. Not when she had four other mouths to feed.
Horse swallowed the last bite of giggle cake, then gently tapped her hoof twice on the ground. Upon seeing the confusion on Wammawink's face, she clarified, "That means yes, I would like some more food."
Wammawink watched in delight as Horse took the pastry in her teeth. "That's my girl!" she squealed.
With Wammawink and the rest of the herd staring at her (while still loudly chewing their own food), Horse felt obligated to finish her giggle cake, but she only got halfway through before the sugary flavor overwhelmed her tongue, and she couldn't go any further. The applecinnabutterscotch taste was delightful, but she worried it'd send her body into shock – and it was going through enough already.
"Aren't you gonna finish?" Wammawink chirped.
"Oh, no thanks," Horse responded. "Too much sugar for me."
"Aw, come on, Horse!" Wammawink picked up the half-cake and smacked Horse playfully in the face. "You can never have too much of a sweet thiiiiing~."
Maybe Horse was wrong about Wammawink learning to be less pushy…
But she knew why she was.
"Actually, Wammawink…" Horse said, leaning away from the food in her face. "You can finish my half."
"Hmm?" The alpacataur tilted her head.
"Well, you spend enough time conjuring up all this food for us," Horse explained, "but I haven't even seen you get seconds yet. I think you'll appreciate it more than I do"
"Oh, pssh," Wammawink tilted her head even more in the opposite direction, "it's really nothing at all. I just want to help!"
"I know you do." Horse gently pushed Wammawink's arm down, moving the remains of the pastry closer to its "baker." "But you might need a little help helping yourself."
Wammawink stared at the half-cake a little while longer with hesitance and, perhaps, shame, as the rest of her herd watched with drooling lips. Eventually, she took a bite… then shoved the whole rest of the giggle cake in her mouth with utter delight. She'd been asleep for so long, it was hard to forget she'd gone without food as long as the rest of the herd.
After a tiny burp, Wammawink gave a wry smile. "I'm a pretty good magic cook, if I do say so myself." Then she patted Horse on the head, bouncing her newly-reformed mane, and a surprising warmth traveled down Horse's own body. "Thank you, babygirl."
"Anytime…" And then Horse had another idea for how to make Wammawink feel more appreciated, and maybe see Horse as her equal. "...magic… mama… cooking… girl."
The rest of the herd, including Wammawink, just stared at Horse for a second, not quite sure what she was saying. Then Ched took advantage of the awkward moment.
"Wow, Horse," he scoffed, "you forgot Wammawink's name? Classic Horse brain."
"No!" Horse raised a hoof in frustration. "I just wanted to try the nickname thing. You know, like how Wammawink calls me babygirl?"
"Oh, that's cute," Zulius condescended.
"So Wammawink has a secret second name now?" Durpleton asked. "Do I have a second name I didn't even know about?"
"I don't wanna learn any more names than I hafta," Glendale added, tugging at her ears.
"Ooh!" Durpleton bobbed up and down. "Can my name have a J in it? Or the one that looks like a side-butt?"
Horse was about to open her mouth and call them all out, but Wammawink put a finger to her mouth and shook her head. "They'll tire themselves out and forget about this whole thing. You know how they are by now." Then she whispered, "But I won't."
Horse wasn't sure how to take that. Maybe Wammawink got her intentions and would see her as an equal, a co-leader with whom to properly talk strategy and navigation and not be lumped in with the rest of… them. But the way Magic Mama Cooking Girl giggled didn't quite reassure her.
Ugh. Why did she waste time thinking so hard about this? Maybe she'd had too much sugar after all.
