“I am not your fucking older sister, you asswipe. You have decades on me. And not to mention that I have to hear about your shit all the godsdamned time!”
“Well, yes,” he said, arching his evil eyebrow at me. “But I’m the unicorn equivalent of a princess. There’s a difference.”
And I really couldn’t argue with that.
And so there I was, looking like an expensive whore, standing in the center square of the desert city, the stars shining down on me, a unicorn with painted-on eyebrows to my right and a half-giant on my left.
Needless to say, we entered that feast like fucking badasses.
Well. Mostly. People did stop and stare at us, so I figured we must have been at least a little mysterious. It probably helped that the gods decided to bless me right at that moment and send a breeze to wash over me, causing my vest and trousers to billow slightly.
“Why are you walking like you’re in slow motion?” Gary hissed at me.
“Because it fucking looks cool,” I hissed back.
“You look like you’re having a stroke!”
“No, I don’t! I look like I run through the city at night, taking out bad guys while having sex with high-powered executives during the day for tons of money.”
“That’s… huh. Okay. I don’t even know what to say to that.”
“Right. Just go with it.”
“Okay, I can work with this.”
And then he tossed his mane back, eyelashes fluttering, the air beginning to shimmer around him in green and blue sparkles. He snorted heavily, more sparks shooting from his nose.
“Oooh,” the crowd said.
“You need to strut more,” Gary whispered to me.
“I know how to strut!”
“That not strutting,” Tiggy said. “This strutting.” And then he proceeded to strut far better than a being his size ever had any right to. His hips rolled, and he looked like he was made up of large piles of bitchy sass.
“Ahhh,” the crowd said.
“I taught him how to do that,” Gary said fondly.
“I want the crowd to make noises at me,” I said. “Move, it’s my turn.” I shoved my way past Gary, ready to be appreciated and—
“I don’t know that you could be any more ridiculous than you are right now,” a voice said near my ear, which, of course, caused me to squeak, trip over my own feet, and fall face-first onto the ground.
There was silence. Then someone in the crowd shouted, “Thank the gods he’s the chosen one! I know I sure feel safe now!”
I rolled over onto my back and glared up at Ryan Foxheart, who stood above me, hands on his hips, head cocked as he peered down at me. “Okay, I take that back,” he said. “You could look more ridiculous. I’m impressed.”
I scowled at him but accepted his hand when he reached down for me. I momentarily forgot that we were fighting when I saw he was similarly dressed as I was, but his vest was stretched much tighter across his frame, and he had chest hair that I wanted to just bury my face in.
“I want to paddleboat your boobs,” I told him, staring at his pecs.
He sighed. “So you’ve told me before. And so you’ve done before, even though I threatened to never let you touch me again.”
“It was totally worth it,” I said. “You’ve get a nice rack. Good job with that whole… thing.”
“You objectifying me, Sam of Wilds?”
I leered at him as the music began to pick up around us again. “Is it working?”