Walking On Broken Glass

“June, mom said you have to get out of the shower.” Whirlwind shouted over the noisy spray of the faucet.

“I’m not done yet.” Juniper growled.

“You’re gonna waste all the hot water.”

“No, I’m not.”

Whirlwind sighed irritably. “When are you gonna be done?”

Whirlwind waited a long moment for a response. He pressed his ear up to the door, trying to separate the noise of the faucet from his sister’s voice. After a moment of protracted silence, a spiteful, sing-songed “I don’t know” rang out amongst the running water, making Whirlwind growl lightly under his breath as he stomped away toward the kitchen.

“Mom,” the colt whined as he stomped into the kitchen. “Juniper won’t get out of the shower.”

“Let your sister have as much time as she needs. We need to go and collect more firewood before winter gets here anyway.” The mare turned back around, humming quietly to herself. Whirlwind fluttered up to counter level, staring quizzically at her as she worked.

“What are you doing?” He asked as she watched her knife slice through a carrot.

“Making dinner.” She replied sweetly.

The colt’s eyes immediately lit up. “Can I help?”

The pegasus mare giggled, setting down her knife and smiling at him. “Alright, why don’t you go outside and see if we have any that we can still use? I’m making soup for dinner.”

“Again? We had soup two days ago”

“That was lentil soup, dear. This is tomato bisque.”

Whirlwind grumbled as he went over beside the door and began pulling on his snow-shoes. “And be careful. I don’t want you getting a splinter or something.”

“Okay, mom” Whirlwind said as he stumbled into his final snowshoe and flung the door open. Taking an immediate left, Whirlwind marched over to the shed next to the house and snaked around it to the back where they kept their pile of firewood for the winter.

Sizing up the pathetic bundle of tinder that greeted him, Whirlwind noticed a particularly plump log sticking out amongst the dregs of the pile. Grabbing it firmly around the end, he gave a few experimental tugs, grunting as he found that it opted to remain exactly where it was. Huffing and planting his back legs firmly in the dirt, Whirlwind reared up and tugged at it again; but even with the added leverage, the log remained firmly stuck underneath all of the other dreck.

Undeterred, Whirlwind continued to pull, intent to dislodge the firewood by sheer force of will if that was what it took. However, after nearly a minute of effort, he was forced to abandon his sisyphean task when the dirt underneath him — that had been churned to mud by his excessive tugging — finally gave way and swiftly set him on his back.

        “Darn it,” Whirlwind panted, getting to his hooves and wincing as he realized his entire back was now caked with mud. Feeling like he needed that warm shower more than ever, Whirlwind marched back to the front of the shed, struggling with the door before he was finally able to push it open enough so that he could squeeze in.

        The inside was dark and musty, caked in layers of old dirt and dust. Whirlwind fluttered up onto one of the nearby tables, careful not to step on the carelessly lain about tools as he searched for something usable. His eyes scanned every wall and table he could see well enough until he spotted a fire axe hanging on the back wall.

        Whirlwind fluttered over to it and grabbed the handle in his teeth. He could feel it bear down on his jaw immediately so he tensed up the muscles in his back, flapping his wings as hard as he could to try and lift it from its hook. However, just as trying to dislodge the firewood had left him panting and breathless, after a full two minutes of exertion, this would prove to leave him similarly so.

        Gritting his teeth and spitting out of the grubby handle, Whirlwind returned to the ground and squeezed back out of the shed. Turning and sighing as he realized he would have to shut the door behind himself, Whirlwind reared up and prepared to push until it suddenly creaked forward and shut as if by its own accord.

        Confused, Whirlwind glanced back behind him to find his mother standing over him, smiling down at him from over the rim of her scarf.

        “I finished chopping the vegetables and I thought I would give you a hand.”

        Whirlwind glowered at her before stalking off toward the back of the shed again. “I can do it myself.”

        The pegasus colt groused as he flew back over to the unimpressive pile of tinder hiding the stubborn log. Steeling himself, he planted his back hooves in the ditch he’d carved earlier and his front hooves on either side of the obstinate piece of wood. Then, with what must have been every last ounce of strength he could conjure up, he began to pull; but even though he had newfound determination driving him forward, he was still unable to dislodge it from the pile.

        Just as he’d been about to kick his pulling into maximum output, he began to feel the log slide out before it eventually popped free and he once again found himself on his back in the mud. He heard a soft giggling and he looked up to see his mother giggling at him, holding the piece of firewood in her hoof.

        “I’m sorry, sweetie,” she cooed, putting the firewood down before picking up her son and dusting him off as best she could. “Why don’t you go inside and take a shower before lunch. Juniper got out right after you left so the bathroom’s all yours now, okay? I’m gonna grab a couple more logs for dinner before I come back in.”

        Whirlwind sighed as she patted him on the head, grumbling under his breath all the way back to the house.