Zenith Part 3.5: Then Clap Your Hands

A blue haired, orange coated, and if she wasn't mistaken, -talking- unicorn was absolutely the last thing Astrid would have expected when she opened the door to the storming night, yet here it was, lying in a heap across her door frame.

 

She hadn't really expected something that would actually warrant the use of the hunting rifle, now hanging limply from her hand, but one too many spooky stories of psycho murderers in the mountains had made her a bit paranoid. I mean, honestly, a young woman, alone in a mountain cabin, on a dark and stormy night, she hears a knock on her door, and what? Thinks it’s the pizza delivery guy?

 

It may not have been a murderer, but now she had to wonder if she was the one going psycho... It’s still lying there, wet hair dripping on the wooden floor, just as orange, and blue, and unicorn...y as ever.

 

*nudge* *nudge*... A couple prods from the boot confirm that it is indeed solid, and quite unconscious. It’s poor head rolls pathetically to the side, rain still pelting the half not covered by the door’s small wooden awning. The open door is letting all the warm air out, and the harsh wind and rain in, making Artemis shiver slightly.

 

“Okay, seriously, what the hell?”

 

Astrid’s head pokes out of the door, looking left, then right. Seeing nothing besides storm she looks down at the pitifully dripping form at her feet once again. This had to be the weirdest animal rescue she'd ever heard of, but (possibly imaginary) mythological creature or not, she couldn't just leave it there. It didn't look dangerous, and if it was then there -was- the gun... she hoped it wasn't dangerous. She put the gun back on its wall rack, where it hopefully would stay, then reached down to scoop the sopping wet creature up into her arms. Oomph, it was heavier then it looked. She guessed it was about the size of a really big dog, like a great dane, or irish wolfhound, but a bit built a bit more heavily.

 

She wound up half-carrying half-dragging it across the floor to the thick rug in front of the wood-burning stove, it’s limp posture and wet fur making her grip difficult. It’s coat felt smooth where it wasn't splattered with mud, and the muscles beneath certainly weren't chiseled, but firm; built for using. Hopefully the warm fire would help dry the poor thing off, cause even with the fur, this thing was -freezing-! She sure hoped it didn’t have hypothermia after being out in a storm like that. Putting a hand to its neck she felt for a pulse, hoping it’s biology was similar enough. After some prodding she got one, a bit faint, but not too bad, considering.

 

With the door finally able to be shut some amount warmth starts returning to the small room, and she fetched a few towels from a closet, both to dry off her guest, and the muddy water all over the floor. A few pieces of cloth tossed over the puddles later and Astrid was crouched back over the, what she still couldn't quite believe to be real, unicorn. She took a dry towel and set about rubbing down it’s back and sides. What were these odd marks under all this mud on its flanks? Mountains? Was it a stencil, or tattoo, or... what? Nevermind; worry about the weirdness of the tiny colorful unicorn later, like when it didn't need medical care. It wasn't even shivering, and that’s a bad sign when you're this cold.

 

Getting the core warm was the most important, she remembered (glad all those advanced university classes were coming in handy), so onto the chest. Oh, um, well, guess that makes ‘it’ a ‘he’ then, doesn't it? She respected his privacy as much as she could while she continued drying his legs, tail, and mane. Not that she was particularly squeamish with the idea, but his whole existence was uncertain territory for sure, and since it- er, he, had seemed sentient she figured it was best to play it safe. What if he woke up to her drying him, he might think she was... Nope, nope, not gonna think about it! Blushing slightly, she finally worked her way up the blue mane to his face and... horn. So weird.

 

It was about six inches long, a gentle corkscrewing groove running up its length, and the same orange as his coat. Odd, weren't unicorns supposed to have white horns? Well, they were also supposed to have white coats, so... And for that matter, they were also supposed to be mythological!

 

She slowly reached out towards the horn and lightly ran her fingers along it. It was an odd texture; extremely smooth, almost silky, but felt very tough and solid. She tapped it experimentally with a fingertip, which to her surprise drew a low moan from its owner.

 

“Hey, are you okay? I’m really sorry about the gun thing, the storm just had me spooked and- Well, how are you feeling, you want some hot water, or...?”

Her jumble of words faded off as she saw he still wasn't conscious. Well alright: Horn is sensitive. Got it.

 

Well, he may not be clean, but he was dry, and mud caked fur wouldn't kill him. She went and got some thicker woolen blankets and made a large makeshift bed lying before the fire, wrapping him in its folds, belly towards the radiating flames.

 

Still feels like he’s freezing though... some hot packs would do him good, hmm... Ah! She put a pot of water on the stove and went and got some water bottles. When the water was just hotter than she was comfortable putting her hand in she took the pot off and poured it over the sink into the bottles, capping them tightly. She nestled the toasty bottles against his torso, trying to get them to heat his core as best she could.

 

Shifting his limbs to position the bottles roused another groan from him, his eyes still shut, but a slight frown across his features. Uncanny how human it was... like the Cheshire cat smiling. Apparently his brain had also just checked in, only to find that housekeeping had turned the AC on full blast, and that icicles were rapidly forming on the ceiling fan.

 

The shivering that started as little more than small muscle twitches worked its way up his flanks, and ended in what could almost be mistaken for a seizure in its ferocity.

 

Oh, come on... She bundled him back up, and added a few more logs to the fire. He still shivered away, teeth chattering audibly. *Sigh*, alright, fine. Astrid extinguished the lamps, leaving the fire the only remaining light source, and got the comforter and pillows from her bed. She curled up behind the pint sized unicorn on the pad of blankets, wrapping them together under the comforter and pulling him close so her body heat would transfer.

 

“Better not regret saving you...” She grumbled as she lay there. Small and fuzzy you may be, but even kittens can scratch pretty good. She reached out and felt one of his hooves. Although you'd probably deal more bludgeoning damage than slashing damage huh? Chuckling slightly at herself, she relaxed somewhat. It felt like his shivers were subsiding a bit, and she was tired; sleep was a welcome prospect.

 

The two of them slept together soundly, the storm blew itself out trying to get the mountain to bow, and the night relinquished it’s rule of the sky to the morning sun.

 

 

 

Authors Note:

This little chapter really helped me get through not knowing where to go next, so:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sXX5drqRD9s&t=20s

>up to and just maybe including the lasers