The two of them were laid there quietly. Tom had rolled in from high; the landslide had taken him down and closer towards the object of his thoughts.
Boulder, on the other hand, wasn’t sure why he was there… his owner had thrown him one day… she’d been playing hide and seek and he’d landed here. She’d never found him; walking off with another stone instead; Pebble, he thought he was called.
And now he’d been left with this… other boulder… this… rock. He wasn’t sure what to think about that. He was certainly larger than Boulder; quite a bit larger.
Tom had seen precious few rocks for a while… sure… there’d been the mountain and… yes, they’d had their good times, but Tom couldn’t remember any of them anymore, those precious moments being replaced by those where Mountain had been so full of himself that Tom couldn’t roll at all.
And now Mountain was behind him… he was left here, with this small rock beside him… he wondered what the small rock thought of him.
Boulder still didn’t know what to think about the other rock… he thought he was big, that was certain, he wondered if he was some sort of… ‘gentle giant’ or of that ilk. It was hard to tell… he wasn’t exactly forthcoming… He wondered what his name was… if he had a name anyway.
For now… he’d call him… Crag. Crag sounded like a good name.
Tom, wondered what the little stone was thinking… whether it was thinking of him… whether he’d be too risqué to ask the little stone’s name. No… it’d be better if he gave it a name now and cleared things up later when they got talking… Stone, he decided on; Stone, for his size and shape.
Tom decided to wait a little more… just in case Stone wanted to make the introductions first… not that he was being shy; he just didn’t want to interrupt the little guy if he started now.
Boulder wondered if Crag even knew he was there… he wouldn’t blame him for completely missing him; Crag looked… well… massive to Boulder. He eclipsed the sky and towered over him…
Maybe he hadn’t even noticed that Boulder was next to him… it would be naïve of him to think otherwise… that was it. Maybe if he made himself known… maybe then… Crag would notice him… would see him and speak to him…
The two of them heard something… the sound of hooves approaching from a distance at a canter… the laughter of fillies following in their trails. They clammed up further, their expressions stony and unreadable as three fillies rushed past, lost in their own world.
So lost in fact that they didn’t notice when they kicked Boulder high into the air, sending him flying so that he landed on Tom.
Boulder could hardly believe his luck… He was on Crag… he’d definitely notice him now; he had to… it wasn’t like he was out of sight anymore; he was right on top of him.
Tom wondered about that… he wondered how Stone had moved… he wondered whether Stone was okay with being risqué… if, perhaps, this was his plan all along. Maybe… just maybe… he would be the metamorphic to his igneous.
But… maybe he wasn’t… maybe he’d just gotten here by accident… or worse… maybe he’d used Tom… maybe Stone just wanted to get to Mountain… to completely ignore Tom and to go on up, further and further away from him.
Boulder looked that way now; his new vantage point granting him a greater view, and a view of the mountain. Where Crag had eclipsed the sky, Mountain seemed to have stolen it. He made Boulder shiver. Boulder resolved to stay away from Mountain; to stay safe; to stay close to Crag.
Tom noticed this… he felt that Stone was still on him… that he hadn’t moved and that he hadn’t abandoned him for Mountain. He could sense that there was still hope for the two of them. He was happy about this. Yet he still worried that he was being too forward with Stone… that he might ruin his chance and that Stone might go away again.
The thought had never crossed Boulder’s mind… he was wondering much the same thing… maybe he was being too suggestive… but… then again… Crag didn’t seem to be protesting about it…
The wind picked up around them, sending the trees whispering and the smaller rocks dancing around them.
Boulder felt himself sliding against Crag, feeling himself slip over his smooth surface as the wind carried him just that little bit. His insides twisted themselves into knots as he moved… he wanted more… he wanted to move further across Crag; to see if he was as smooth on the other side.
Tom was anxious; he wasn’t sure what had just happened, but he couldn’t bring himself to dislike it either… he also wondered whether Stone would keep going… whether he’d keep gliding over him… sanding him down bit by bit…
He felt Stone continue… going further and further across him, making his insides squirm as he wondered if his excitement was showing… if he’d marbleised… or worse… turned to granite. Not that he wanted Stone to stop; rather he begged otherwise… hoping that he’d keep going… that he’d keep travelling over him just like that.
Boulder wanted the same, moving further and further down Crag even as the wind dropped, leaving him stranded somewhere upon Crag’s giant body.
This wouldn’t do, Boulder thought to himself, straining to move that little bit further, to find out if the next part of Crag was as smooth as the rest. The wind didn’t comply and he accepted that he was stuck – at least for now. In the meantime… he thought about renaming Crag… Crag didn’t sound smooth… Crag sounded… craggy.
He settled on Bluff. Bluff sounded good.
Tom wondered why Stone had stopped… he was midway up him now, resting upon the precipice of him… the one point that was what kept him together… Tom thought he knew why Stone had stopped now. He wondered how Stone had known.
Boulder made himself comfortable; he wasn’t going anywhere. He checked where he was, then blushed inside. He was balanced on Bluff’s highest point…the wind had brought him here and he wasn’t going to move anymore. He knew that he was right where he wanted to be.
Tom waited to see if Stone would move on… hoping that he wouldn’t and that he’d stay there forever… that he’d never move again. He wondered if this was what ‘holding your breath’ felt like as the tension wore on for him. He got his answer when the wind whispered again, turning Stone upon him, spinning upon Tom’s one weakness…
Boulder was euphoric; he span atop Bluff, watching the world go round and feeling his partner digging into him; feeling his firm precipice keep Boulder balanced and still. He wondered, should he keep going, if he could go deeper. If Bluff could go further, if Boulder could let Bluff inside that little bit more.
But no… he could feel himself slipping… he could feel himself tilting further and further away from that brilliant spot. Further… further… further… and over. Bluff was beyond him now… he’d gone too early; he’d let him down. He could only imagine how annoyed Bluff was…
Tom was worried; one moment, Stone had been gyrating atop him quite happily, the next, he’d left him, standing, waiting, wanting. Now he was on Tom’s side, sitting there silently and, more importantly, immovably. Tom wanted him to move again… to continue… to go up and spin once more.
But he didn’t… Stone stayed still, he didn’t move again… Tom wondered if he’d fallen asleep, simply satisfying his own selfish needs before leaving Tom’s own unmet. Tom decided that he didn’t like Stone anymore… he wanted to be rid of him. In spite, he renamed Stone, calling him Grit instead, for his puny size.
Boulder wondered whether Bluff was angry at him, ignorant of the truth to his ponderings. He supposed that he would be mad if that was what had happened to him. He hoped that he and Bluff could try again… maybe he’d be better the next time when he had another chance. He resolved to do just that; to try again, to be better, and to last longer.
“There you are, Boulder.”
A voice broke across the two of them and they immediately focussed on the disturbance. A slate-grey pony was standing by the two of them, her eyes lidded and her face expressionless.
“I’m sorry for mistaking you for someone else,” she continued in the same grey voice and Boulder felt himself being lifted from Tom, being moved from the smooth Bluff to the comfortable pocket he’d called home before.
There was a pause as the pony examined Tom, glancing over his smoothness with apparent disinterest.
“Hmm… Igneous; Basalt,” she said finally before turning and leaving Tom, taking Boulder with her.
Tom thanked her silently; glad to see the back of that ungrateful Grit that had so betrayed him.
Boulder also thanked her, glad that she’d remembered him; that Pebble was no more and he could go back to being his owner’s pet. Yet… he regretted not being able to spend more time with Bluff… he wished that he could have apologised to him; to have made it up.
To have been upon him just once more.
