The Troll & The Riddle

This may be Imogene's first day on earth, but let me tell you: anyone/anything can spot a Riddling Troll when they see one.

She is not hard of seeing.

He throws his massive carny hands into the air and shouts "WAIT!!!" at her.

Almost losing the lunch she never managed to find, Imogene stops in her tracks. Dead silence fills the morning air, bouncing off dew drops that are forming along the brim of her eyelashes.

What the sweet mother of hell does this guys want?

Imogene hits the road

As Imogene trots away from her unpleasant encounter she spots a little opening by the window to squeeze through.

As she would like to get as far away as possible from the jackass she just met, she filters her 4 hooves, mane and tail through a small crack in the plaster and finds herself outside the house.

This new part of the world is breezy, warm and most importantly, doesn't smell of puppy anymore. Her nostrils fill with the possibility of finding her best friend out here somewhere among the vastness of the garden or street.

The wonder of it all strikes her so deeply she does not immediately see the hands in front of her face...

A friend for Imogene

And across the sill, a million miles away by her near sighted glance, she sees him.

Glass encased as any real beauty ought to be he sits. Calm. Sure of himself. Guarded. Perfect.

Imogene clicks over and introduces herself to the encased creature.

"Hello, I'm Imogene" she states matter of factly, she has not yet learned the art of conversation this being her first day of life and all, so we cut her some slack. "Who you be?" she questions.

"Well miss..." a purr arrives as though from underwater. "They call me ssssSalvadore ... Zeee Keeper of lost tings". He rebuffs. He's abrupt at best, rude to be more accurate and slightly accusatory for the mistake of her ignorance. He continues "Whom are you supposing to be zen?" he returns.

"I said my name is Imogene. I'm a centaur, I was born this morning under the giants bed. I'm looking for a friend to help me escape the puppies". She keeps to the points of conversation needed to gain information from this purring little wonder who so clearly is disinterested in her fancy of friendship. "If you can point me in the direction of the next friend you may see, I would be very grateful".

"I do not know deees tings!" he yells, though through his opaque prism only a few squat noises are heard, nothing like the yelp of the puppies below, still circling the bottom of the stairs, curiouser and curiouser about what is taking place on the sill.

"Well okay then Mister!" She bellows back, surprising herself with her own nerve and show of anger. "I will find one myself! Thanks for nothing sweet pea!" She turns on a hoof and saunters off. Never did ask about that arm in his prison though... not too certain the answer would be a thrill to the ears.

Needing someone

She's got it!

A friend.

This is what she needs so desperately to get through this misadventure. Its so bloody simple she nearly smacks herself! But since she has hooves instead of hands, and no record of opposable thumbs she thinks the better of masochism and just gives her little head a shake instead.

Now... who to ask?

How does one go about asking for a friend? What does one do she wonders aloud, a teeny echo from her groggy voice bounces against the glass and greets her in earnest.

If only I were a twin, she muses, not allowing the thought to spread much further into her heart. Of the few things she's learned this morning, its that she is the only one of her kind. Nothing else came out of that eggshell worth getting to know, that was for certain. But how to go about locating a lovely little friend to have?

The giants were nice enough, loud, bellowing, snoring, sharing secrets in the dark and waking each morning together. Even while incubating alone under the bed she knew they were lovely, the soft pummeling of their voices against her shell letting her know the world wasn't all bad.

But they had each other, more to the point if one of them every laughed loud enough Imogene would be deafened for life due to her stature.

No, the giants wouldn't do in the friendship department. She needs someone her size, her own age, to befriend.

A small noise rumbles...

The Window Sill

Tiny though the puppies may be to the giants, to Imogene they are everything. Every size, every shape of the small world she has ever seen in her one day of life thus far. They are eternal, massive and gawd help her, hungry.

Imogene leaps to the window sill to plot her next move.

Hair a spry, tail frozen with the knowledge that her first day on earth may be her last, she tries to imagine her way out of this.

If only she weren't alone in this world. If only there were another brain to help her transfix this emergency into comedy, change this fear into giggle, this nutty hair cut into something worth living for!