Please Come Home, Little Man

It was a colder morning than usual, and Aslan braced himself for the temperature awaiting him outside of his warm, comfy old pickup truck. There was a teddy cob he had in mind to claim as a Christmas present for his partner Hawley later in the day, though he was always open to the option of bringing home his own little beast.

Aslan opened the door and was faced with a chilly breeze, and he fumbled with the gloves he pulled out of the door pocket as he closed the door with his hip. The smell of new ponies was in the air as he sniffled, and upon approaching the paddock, there were some real cute ones. He grabbed a brochure displaying all of the ones available in this month's roundup batch, and to his surprise the list was much bigger than what he expected of the regular 5-10.

One stood out to him. A tobiano gelding more or less the size of his first teddy, Donny, with an adorable black and white coat. Aslan was terriblw with trying not to get his hopes up, but this little gelding was love at first sight for him.

He leaned against the fence railing of the paddock the ponies were being held in, and saw the two he wanted immediately, mingled in with the herd trotting around and playfully pestering each other between grabbing mouthfuls of hay scattered over the snowy ground.

The gelding's name written in the brochure was Dill Pickle. It was a silly name, but all the most endearing for the little thing. Aslan absolutely loved it, and he was desperate to try to win the affection of this pony.

He grabbed a bell and dark green ribbon from a nearby booth selling them, and approached the gate, pushing at its squeaky frame. Some of the ponies stopped and raised their heads, including Dill Pickle. Aslan walked near him and stopped a few feet away, watching to see the pony's reaction. He was delighted to see that Dill Pickle walked eagerly to close the distance and huff deep breaths at his hands.

"Sorry buddy, I don't have treats on me," Aslan chuckled at the pony, and gave him some scratches on his neck. These were just as good as food though, and Dill Pickle stretched out his head and neck, lip wiggling in satisfaction.

After a while, Aslan remembered he needed to tie the bell into his mane–or lack thereof. He settled for the tail, and braided it as best he could with cold hands into Dill Pickle's choppy tail. Before he left the paddock, he gave the pony one last pat on the shoulder and whispered to himself, half hoping horses could understand human speech.

"Please come home with me, little man."