Page 19 of Live Love Lasso

“See you tomorrow,” Bryony calls out as she pulls her sister up the sidewalk toward Main Street.

I watch the elderly pixies go. They cling onto one another but wave at every monster who passes them by. And every single one stops to greet them. It’s cute. It’s community in a way we don’t have in the city.

Sort of adorable, if I’m honest.

The twins’ mention of the welcome book reminds me that I really haven’t explored much of Pine Gulch. I head back to my cottage. The book sits on my side table with Amadala’s document.

Grabbing the big hardcover, I admire the beautifully painted cover, which features golden wheat fields and three ponies facing the viewer. The art is inspired and tugs at my heart a little bit. The ponies look so wild and free, and I honestly envy that. What does that feel like?

Curious about who painted it, I flip it open to the copyright page. The artist is listed as Amatheia Xeniphon of House Xeniphon. That’s a very old, deeply respected vampire house although there was some recent relationship drama there, if the New York Yapper gossip column is to be believed.

Sighing, I walk outside with the book in hand. A map in the first few pages tells me most of the ponies live closer to the actual gulch that runs straight through the middle of this haven. I’d guess that’s because there’s a river at the bottom of it, so it’s probably easier for them to have access to fresh foliage and water.

Flaring my shadow wings wide, I push up into the sky and flap over the trees with the book in hand. I’m surprised not to see a highway of other winged monsters flying around. That’s a stark contrast to the city. But it’s sorta nice being on my own up here with the wind in my face. I head straight up until I find the glowing green, bubble-shaped ward that encompasses the haven, keeping it protected and hidden from the human world.

Pressing my fingers to the magic, I watch streaks of iridescence flare in sunbursts away from my touch. It makes me feel peaceful, knowing we’re insulated from the big, wide human world, safely tucked away here. Humans can’t find monster havens without being explicitly invited in. I can’t imagine what would happen if the humans discovered monsters hidden among them. Shit would hit the fan, I bet.

I beat my wings faster, powering along the ward and away from downtown. Golden wheat fields change into scrubby landscape, blue and brown mountains dotted with firs barely visible off into the distance. I fly past the Pine Gulch Punishers skyball stadium, admiring seeing it for the first time. Swooping a big circle over it, I wave at a couple players standing in the middle of the field. A big, handsome gargoyle salutes me as I fly overhead.

Another ten minutes pass peacefully by. It’s sort of beautiful out here in a primal, elemental kind of way. Smiling, I glance at the book’s map to see I’m nearing the actual gulch. Down below, I don’t see the ponies, but a burbling stream flows along.

It’s deep, probably fifty or sixty feet in this section. Enjoying the dry heat of the air, I flit through the narrowest part of the gulch, bouncing playfully off the tall rocky walls as I dance through the wind. It’s carefree and peaceful until I find a corner and slam to a stop, hovering in the air.

Up ahead, almost forty ponies stand huddled in a group. Some are in the water, and some stand on the rocky shoreline, but they look adorable. They’re every shade of black, brown, and tan. Most stand facing in opposite directions, tails swatting flies from one another' s ears and eyes.

Smiling, I flap slowly toward them, unsure if my presence will scare them or not. I haven’t seen a lot of other vampires in this haven, but given the professional skyball team, I know there must be plenty of gargoyles flying around. The big winged monsters are so quick and strong they make great players for the fast-paced sport.

A giant boulder punctuates the landscape on the right-hand side of the herd. I alight on it as a few of the ponies glance up at me. Tucking my wings away, I watch them for a while. A few snuffle along the riverbank, eating bright green grasses that spike up out of the water.

Sunlight warms me as a faint wind brushes over my face. Opening the welcome book again, I read through the first few chapters. They’re all about how friendly and tight-knit Pine Gulch is as a community. I suppose I’ve seen some of that. Oz sure has talked about how much he loves how different PG is from New York.

I spend two hours reading through the book and watching the ponies. They don’t go far, playing in the water and munching on delicate grasses. I laugh as a young one dips his full face in the water to rip grass out by the roots. His mother watches him dispassionately, swatting away flies as he emerges with water dripping from his muzzle.

As the sun starts to move lower on the horizon, the ponies get more active. The baby from before bares his teeth at his mother, nipping at her side before shoving his way under her legs to nurse. She bites him on the side as if in warning.

He must have been too rough or maybe aging out of nursing. It’s cute to watch them.

Another half hour goes by before a loud squeal draws my attention. In the middle of the river, two ponies rear up, lashing out and snapping at one another. Their bodies clash together, splashing water over the others nearby. The rest of the herd gives them wide berth, and that’s when I notice both ponies’ eyes are milky white.

Like the moose.

Oh gods.

The herd begins to move, some ponies trotting or spinning in place until they mill around the rock I’m seated on. Confused, I tuck the welcome book under my arm just as the mother from before rears up and snaps at me, nearly catching my foot as I yip in surprise.

What’s going on?

Another rears up and thrashes toward me, snapping at my knee. Its teeth graze my exposed skin, leaving a superficial gash. Shouting in pain, I push off the rock and bullet up toward the edge of the gulch. My wings ache as I flap hard, scrambling for the top of the cliff.

When I burst over the rock, clawing at the sky, I literally fly smack into a body, knocking us both to the ground with me on top. The fall knocks the breath out of me as I stare into Furyon Zayle’s wide pale blue eyes. His chest heaves as his horns flex and straighten in concern.

Hopping off him, I lift my hands. “Gods, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

He frowns as he rises easily to his feet, brushing dust off his ranger pants.

“Hello again, Miss Knox.”

“I know this looks bad,” I hedge.