How Scorching Quill Got His Name
or "How Sure Shot Once Lit Pennington Inkwell’s Hair on Fire to Give Him the Idea for His Pen Name"
“All right, hold still so I don’t shoot you in the head.”
Pennington obliged, though grudgingly. He had never liked not moving, but Sure Shot did have a point. The green pegasus colt in question was standing a few feet away on his back legs, his wings flared for balance as he aimed his bow at a red apple on Pennington’s head. Why he had agreed to put himself in his friend’s line of fire was beyond him, but Pennington smiled nonetheless. If anything, ‘being in danger of getting shot through the head by your best friend’ was an adventure he hadn’t tried yet.
“Turn ninety degrees to the side, I don’t wanna hit your horn,” said Sure Shot, closing one eye and sticking out his tongue as he adjusted his aim.
Pennington turned to the right just enough to remove his horn from the line of fire while being able to keep an eye on Sure Shot.
A whooshing sound filled the crisp morning air as the arrow flew. Freezing up, Pennington shut his eyes tight as he felt the weight of the apple on his head disappear. As the arrow shot through the apple, its fletching feathers brushed against the top of his mane, creating an uncomfortable heat. A final loud thunk proclaimed that the arrow had embedded itself in the trunk of the tree behind him.
With a sigh of relief, the dark-blue colt stepped to the side to admire Sure Shot’s skill. The arrow had shot right through the middle of the apple and had hit the tree trunk in the centre of a circular groove.
As Sure Shot let out a victorious whoop, Pennington noticed that the arrow’s feathers were burning. A sudden chill passed over him, a strange feeling when his head felt so hot. He turned to Sure Shot with a frown and the pegasus’ joy turned to alarm.
“Penn! Your hair’s on fire!”
Realising that his friend wasn’t joking, Pennington looked upwards. Flames were flickering just behind his horn.
“Gaah!” he shouted, trying to put the small fire out with his hooves, but to no avail. His burning mane was getting hotter and hotter, though the flames had yet to reach his scalp. “Sure Shot! Don’t just stand there!”
The pegasus colt jumped and ran up to Pennington. He flapped his wings in an effort to blow the fire out, but it only grew in size and heat. Beads of sweat were rolling down Pennington’s face as he batted his hoof at the flames. Sure Shot looked frantically around. “There’s a rain cloud up there, I’ll be right back!” And with that, he flew upwards and out of sight.
“Okay, deep breath,” Pennington muttered to himself, coughing as he inhaled a deep breath of smoke. He tried to ignore the nearly scorching flames on his head as he racked his brains. How do you put out a fire? I don’t have any water… His violet eyes swivelled around the hilltop Sure Shot had brought him to, but the only things around him were a tree and dirt.
Dirt! Jumping as the heat finally reached his scalp, Pennington used his magic to grab a hoofful of dirt straight from the ground and pour it over his head. He shook his head to get rid of it and thought that the flames seemed smaller now. Before he could try to put out the fire again, cold water splashed down on him, extinguishing his burning mane.
He turned to find a small pink unicorn with an exasperated look on her face, an empty bucket floating in her magic.
“I swear, you two should be under constant supervision,” Callalily Curl muttered, glaring daggers at the sheepish smile on Pennington’s face.
He chuckled, relief washing over him like water as he realised he wasn’t going to die a painfully hot death. “Lily, you’re a lifesaver.” Lily rolled her eyes and sighed, but smiled nonetheless.
Suddenly, a torrential downpour rained down on the two foals, soaking them to the bone. Laughter reached their ears once the water had stopped dousing them.
Pennington looked up through his scorched and wet mane to find Sure Shot bowled over with laughter on a recently-depleted cloud above their heads. As the hilarity of the past few minutes dawned on him, he found himself first grinning, then chuckling, and finally rolling on the floor in laughter as Sure Shot kicked the cloud away and joined him. Even Lily cracked a smile as her two friends began recounting what had happened.
“The look on your face, though!” Sure Shot grinned at Pennington, who rolled his eyes with a smile. “Actually, you didn’t look half bad with flames on your head!” The green pegasus stopped laughing, his eyes lighting up as an idea came to him. “Heey, you said you needed a pen name. How about something scorching, eh?”
Pennington glanced at the excited Sure Shot and then at the disapproving-but-slightly-amused Lily. “You know, that’s not such a bad idea.” He got to his hooves and stood tall, grinning at his two best friends. “Scorching Quill, best-selling author and adventurer extraordinaire!”
“Yeah!” exclaimed Sure Shot and gave Pennington an enthusiastic hi-hoof.
Lily rolled her eyes, but grinned at the two overenthusiastic colts, falling in step behind them as the trio set off home under the slowly darkening sky, already planning their next adventure.
Author's Note
Inspired by Moonstone's remark upon meeting Sure Shot in Penn and Stone: Dynamic Duo.
Characters and idea belong to Pennington Inkwell. Posted with permission.
“I cannot believe this! You are a pegasus and you are telling me that you can’t fly us off this blasted island?!”
Gust Kicker sighed, opening her soggy saddlebags and extracting a flask. “I told you, I’m off duty because my wing’s hurt.” She stared at the flask for a moment, then took a long gulp of the chilled vodka inside.
Jewel Pride gave her a glare, her horn flashing white menacingly. “Oh, you’re a drunk as well? Just my luck.” She turned around and began to search through the ship’s debris.
Gust was beginning to dislike the petty noble. She had dealt with many nobles before, but they had usually been former officers who seemed reasonable enough. This “lady” was a self-centred bigot. “Excuse me, your ladyship, but the whole ship’s crew is dead.” She motioned to the debris with her undamaged wing. “If you want to survive, we’re going to have to stick together.”
Jewel humphed as she brushed away chunks of wood from her ornate suitcase.
“It’s getting dark,” said Gust, squinting at the slowly setting sun. “I’ll go search for some wood.”
Jewel Pride turned and raised an elegant eyebrow. “We’re surrounded by wreckage. Is that enough wood for you, or do you want me to grow you a forest?”
Gust was getting very tired of the mare. “You can’t”—she slid her saddlebags onto her back and turned away from the sea—“start a fire with wet wood. Didn’t your private tutors teach you stuff like that? Or did they think that’s too much information for your precious mind to handle?”
A flash of light flew by Gust and she felt the gauze around her damaged wing fall off. Instinctively, she jumped to the side and flapped her wings. Gritting her teeth against the pain of using her left wing, she rolled across the sand and stopped on her hooves, one wing spread and the other tight against her side. “What the hell was that?!”
Jewel sniffed dismissively and turned back to her saddlebags, a sapphire-and-amethyst unicorn blade splitting into its shards and returning to her mane, joined by the sapphire shard that had attacked Gust Kicker. “If you insult me again, I will not hesitate to hurt you,” she threatened without concern.
A vein was beginning to pulse on Gust’s forehead. “You really think it would be that easy?!” Quickly but silently, she launched herself with her one wing at Jewel Pride. Before she reached her, however, she froze in mid-air, white magic tinting her vision.
“Yes, I do.”
Gust was suddenly launched into the air. Before she could reorient herself, she crashed into something hard and everything turned into darkness.
Author's Note
A short drabble featuring two OCs shipwrecked on an island.
Gust Kicker is partially inspired by Chengar Qordath's Storm Kicker, while Jewel Pride's unicorn blade is directly inspired by/borrowed from The Immortal Game by AestheticB.
