The Wizard of Whitetail Woods

The Wizard of Whitetail Woods
Chapter 3
Admiral Biscuit

KitKat’s ears perked at the distant hoppity-boppity sounds. “Um, Wizard?”

He was lost in concentration, studying the map. “What?”

“Jackalopes incoming. Vampiric ones, by the sounds of it.”

“Shit.” He tossed the map back to her. “I know a spell that’ll get rid of them, but I’m just not feeling it.” He tugged open his robe revealing his flaccid penis.

“Ugh.” KitKat lifted her tail. “Is this helping?”

“Maybe if you do that thing, you know, where you sort of make your clit flash at me, what’s it you ponies call that?”

“This is so degrading.”

“You could act like you were at least a little interested, you know?”

“Well, I’m not. I’m only doing this for you because our lives are on the line here.”

“It’d be easier if you had tits to jiggle around, you know.”

A thunder of vampiric jackalopes burst into the little clearing, their cute little eyes and fluffy tails belieing their murderous intent.

“Nevermind that—run!” She didn’t wait to see if he was coming; she took off at full gallop, five of the little bastards in hot pursuit.

The Wizard followed suit, awkwardly running with his robes pulled up and his half-erect trouser snake flopping around.

“Every proper unicorn I know can cast spells on the fly.”

“This isn’t as easy as it looks.” The Wizard did his best to stroke his member while at a full run. “When we get past this, I’ll put a spell on you to make your boobs bigger.”

“The hell you will.” She jumped over a fallen log and skidded to a stop as the Wizard caught up. Expertly eying the downed tree, she lined up a dry branch with her hoof and bucked it back into the path of one of the oncoming jackalopes. He somehow managed to get it caught between his antlers and forepaws and tumbled ass-over-teakettle to the ground.

The Wizard had gotten a bit of a lead, and she galloped back up to him. “You give me cow udders, and I will end you.”

“Haven’t you ever wanted bigger knockers?”

“No! I don’t even know how stallions can deal with galloping with their balls swinging around. It’s uncomfortable to watch. Right there—see that little recess in the rocks?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ve got a bit of a lead, and it’s defensible.” The two of them changed course, and ducked between the pillars of stone. “We’ll have a moment to prepare.”

The Wizard was gasping for breath, and KitKat was winded, too. “Get me the November 2009 spellbook.”

“November 2009 . . . it would be easier to find if I could read humanish.”

He had his eyes half-closed as he stroked his beanpole. “Purple cover.”

“Thiff vun?” She held up the magazine in her mouth.

“Yeah.” He grabbed it from her and started flipping through the pages.

“That’s not even a real person.”

“Ssh, let the magic do its work.”

He boldly stepped up and surveyed the husk of hares that regarded the two of them. “Sextumsempra.”

KitKat’s nostrils flared. The jackalopes just watched, and then they turned as one and vanished back into the woods from whence they came.

“See, that was easy. I could—what are you looking at?”

“A Chu—Chu—Chupacabra.” She pointed up, where the salivating beast was regarding them, deciding whether they were kibbles or bits.

🚀

And thus the chase was reversed. The Jackalopes held the lead, with KitKat and the Wizard of Whitetail Woods close behind. The Chupacabra brought up the rear.

Thus far, the only casualty of battle had been the November 2009 Playboy, featuring Marge Simpson, but if the two of them didn’t pick up their pace, that was going to change.

“Left!” KitKat didn’t bother to see if the Wizard was listening; she darted off between a pair of overhanging trees. There was a river down there, and if her memory was correct, Chupacabras couldn’t swim.

She wasn’t sure if humans could, either, something she briefly reflected upon as she gallop-skidded down the slope.

KitKat needn’t have worried. The Wizard performed a graceful swan-dive off a rock and while his swimming technique looked to her eyes a lot more like pointless flailing, he was in fact making steady progress across the river.

I hope there aren’t crocodiles. If there were, they’d go for him first, and it wasn’t like she had a better option.

🚀

There were no crocodiles, and the two of them waded up on the opposite shore, soaked but safe.

“I don’t like the looks of this.”

“Why?” The Wizard looked around. “That Chupacabra isn’t following us any more.” Indeed, it was standing at the bank of the river, watching its escaped prey longingly.

“Because I don’t hear drums.”

“What’s that got to do with—oh.” He nodded wisely. “I’ve seen enough jungle movies to know what happens next. The natives come out of the forest with spears and poison arrows and they capture us and take us back to their village, and they toss us in some kind of a prison and then I use my magic to escape—bringing you with me of course. Then we’ll steal their canoes and make our getaway down the river, escaping crocodiles and dangerous rapids all the while. . . .”

KitKat ignored him and his seemingly-unending monologue. Her faith in his magical abilities was diminishing by the moment, so she searched the ground for anything that might help after their inevitable capture.

There were plenty of plants which showed promise, if only she’d had a cauldron to reduce them in. Stinging nettle could be braided into a serviceable rope, but there wasn’t enough to make more than a few inches worth.

She finally found what she was looking for, wrapped them carefully in a leaf, and balled it up inside a bit of clay—not ideal, but it would keep for the near future.

During her search, the natives had indeed arrived. The Wizard, she judged, was mounting a spirited defense, but with only a chubb to work with, the range and effect of his magic was currently considerably limited.