A Painting of Words

Tumble on Ice

A Ranger's Apprentice One-Shot 

•••

Crowley dropped his quill onto the table. Leaning back against his chair, he cracked his knuckles and sighed. He had finally finished sketching out a map for Pritchard, and that meant he had officially finished everything on the list his mentor had given him for that day.

Standing, Crowley rubbed his eyes. He picked up his mug, downing the last of his coffee before looking out the window. Snow flurried down from the sky. It covered the trees and paved the ground with white. Icicles hung down from the roof, its sharp point like an icy dagger.

From inside the cabin, he could just about see a lake. It had iced over a few days prior, and Crowley reckoned that it was probably safe enough to walk on. Of course, Pritchard didn't share the same sentiment when he had suggested the idea. But Pritchard wasn't there. He was at the village restocking their supplies. He didn't have to know.

Crowley grinned to himself. He grabbed a pair of skates from his room. He had purchased them the year before, but it had been too late then to have gone skating. Fastening his cloak, he pulled on his gloves and pushed the door open.

The wind blasted against his face, catching him in surprise. Crowley stumbled backwards as shivers went down his body. He stepped out onto the veranda, closing the door behind him. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath.

He opened them when Cropper neighed. Crowley glanced at his horse, and he crossed his arms. "Don't give me that look," he said.

This is a bad idea.

He snorted. "I haven't even told you the idea."

Don't say I didn't warn you.

Crowley rolled his eyes. Huffing out a breath, he jumped down the veranda and saddled Cropper. "I would never," he muttered. "This is a great idea."

Cropper seemed to laugh as Crowley mounted, but he didn't say anything else as he trotted towards the lake. Crowley glanced at the sky. There was only a few hours before dusk, so he would have plenty of time before Pritchard returned.

The lake was deep blue, sprinkled with little snowflakes. Under the glare of the sun, it looked like a tinted mirror. It was strangely calm and tranquil, serene like looking over the world on a mountaintop. There wasn't a single animal; the birds had flown south, and most others had gone into hibernation.

Sliding onto the ground, Crowley tapped a foot on the ice. He frowned thoughtfully, sharing a glance with Cropper before jumping onto it. His smile slowly grew as he stomped his feet onto the hard ice.

"I told you!" he laughed. "It's all good!"

Kneeling on the ground, he strapped the ice skates onto the bottom of his shoes. He wobbled onto his feet, his arms spread out to keep balance. "Keep a lookout for Pritchard, would you?" Crowley said to Cropper. "Who knows how many chores I'll be doing if he finds out?"

Good luck.

Crowley snapped his head around to face Cropper. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Nothing.

Narrowing his eyes, Crowley glared at his horse. He made a gesture with his finger, pointing towards the direction of the village, then at Cropper, and finally at his own throat. He made a swiping motion, putting on his best intimidating face. Cropper only seemed to scoff, but it was enough for Crowley.

He slowly walked forward. Teetering, he bit down onto his lip. His fingers closed into fists as he stepped onto the ice. Crowley yelped.

His arms swung around him, and he lurched forward, sliding further out from steady ground. He leaned backwards. His feet slipped underneath him, and he flailed from side to side. It was a good minute until he found his balance. Not to his surprise, he could hear Cropper's laughter from behind him. He sighed, shaking his head.