Heat.
Hitch hated the heat.
The humid summer air would crawl its way underneath his skin, beads of sweat snaking tiny trails through his fur. The heat messed with his head and prevented him from doing his job properly.
Which is why, of course, a massive heat wave decided to hit Maretime Bay right in the middle of tourism season. His head ached thinking of all the littering ponies would be doing.
Tourists. The bane of Hitch’s existence. Trotting all around town, their hooves clacking noisily against the pavement, casually dropping their trash wherever they please, expecting the ever reliable sheriff to come in and leave the town as spotless as it was before they arrived.
Or perhaps they didn’t care at all. Moving from one town to the next like parasites, leeching off the good graces of the locals and basking in the sweltering sun like acolytes to some ancient goddess.
Whatever. Wasting time wondering on unknowables wasn’t Hitch’s prerogative. He was supposed to be outside cleaning up after Maretime Bay Day. The chaotic events of the festival had left a lot of cleanup efforts and paperwork on his desk.
…and his head still really hurt.
Throwing a cautious glance at the door to the station, he momentarily considered braving a few steps outside… before another wave of pain wracked his head.
Groaning and planting his head firmly upon his desk, Hitch gave up on that train of thought. It would probably be better to do his patrols in the evening, once the sun had set and the heat wasn’t going to fry his brain the moment he stepped outside.
Heat.
The heat was awful. It was sticky and suffocating and it crawled up into his throat and strangled his vocal chords. The humidity crept up his nose and probed its way around the front of his head almost as if it were trying to gain access to the inside of his skull.
“You alright there sheriff?” His deputy’s words snapped him out of his fervour as Hitch blinked away the throbbing pain in his head.
“Just breezy, Sprout,” He snapped back, before pinching his nose and muttering an apology. “Sorry. The heat’s been getting to me. Do you mind taking the beach patrol today?”
Sprout gave him an odd look for a moment before nodding and moving to grab his gear.
Rubbing his head again, Hitch reached for the smoothie Sunny had dropped over earlier. He was parched and his tongue felt like it had been taking up extra space in his mouth recently.
Hitch looked up just as Sprout made his way to the door, promptly exiting the station and sending a suffocating wave of
Heat.
His way, Hitch might describe it as his own personal hell. Apparently Sprout had gotten worried enough about him that he had informed Sunny about.. what exactly Hitch wasn’t sure. He always got a bit migraney in the summer months. Nothing to worry about! He wasn’t even sweaty! Just a bit of irritable dry skin. Nothing to worry about! He wasn’t even sweaty! Just a bit of irritable dry skin.
Sure. he might have passed out a little, but that was nothing new for him. getting knocked around was to be expected when you worked on the force.
One particular incident stood out in his mind where he had been chasing a runaway criminal across the sandy beach. That had given his legs a workout- especially when the crook got the jump on him and sent his face flying straight into the searing hot concrete.
The headache didn’t go away for
He was trying to inform his foalhood best friend of this fact (and insisting the brain wasn’t necessary, he had a physique to keep up) when
Tourists.
Interrupted his thoughts as he caught sight of more litter.
Why did tourists litter so much? Hitch stared disgruntledly at the rogue candy wrapper sitting smugly in the middle of the sunny pavement. Mocking him.
Hitch knew that the sun had left him with specific orders to stay out of Sunny- but one piece of litter couldn’t hurt, right? It was only a few meters away from the entrance to the police station and the nearest bin.
Getting up out of his seat was rather more of a challenge than Hitch had anticipated- sure, his head was spinning about as much as his desk chair’s wheels and he couldn’t quite make out what Sprout’s latest report said but it wasn’t like his ice-cream was melting in his skull.
Just one step out of the shade of the police station. Easy enough. Such a quick trip he didn’t even remember crossing the room and opening the door.
And. There he goes.
stepping out into the sun
it took a moment for him to differentiate the
throbbing of his head and the rapid
thumping of his
heartbeat
heat.
the hot was bothering hitch somewhat. several days maretime bay had been annoying. it was stopping him from doing his right job. think of all the trash he could be littering.
anyway. hitch was doing his job regards. too many tourists unappreciating the bay. one was yapping in his ear right. he turned to tell her to start littering and enjoy the view.
her coat was magenta and her mane was a pale peachy orange. or maybe it was the other way around, the sunny was right in his face and confusing him a bit
she seemed to be rather set up about something- rightly so, hitch thought, you ought to feel ashamed of all this litter! the bin is right
she put a hoof on his shoulder and hitch flinched way. she was burning up. needed out of the sun.
he tried to tell her much, but for reason his speech wasn’t properly. the sun turned to another pony (how had he missed her) and started agitating. hitch told the new pony to keep her friend from enjoying the view. and to have a day.
hopefully how concerned the unicorn looked she understood littering a grave offence.
turning way, hitch stumbled a bit. the floor some much closer than he remembered. odd.
oh well, he always got a bit around turned in the summer, nothing new. he just had to finish up his job before the heat fried his brain.
