Mibbet clung onto Hestia as the broom they were sharing took to the air. Mibbet peering down was terrified, then after factoring in the fact she was now looking down on countless owls could not help but laugh at the absolute power. She could get used to this.
Meanwhile inside her head Rosalind danced a happy little jig for other reasons, gross human reasons Mibbet really did not wish to think about that roughly boiled down to “mmmmmm muscles.”
They gradually flew away from the workshop, Rosalind for once in her life going unescorted which to her was a bizarre feeling, eventually touching down next to a bunch of foliage next to a clearing. Though Mibbet could have sworn once or twice during the flight she saw the sudden movement of frankly scarily big flying figures in the background.
Mibbet carefully peered over the bushes to see what it was just to have her head pushed back down by Hes. “Stay down” Hes warned her, Soaring boars have lousy ears but they are literally eagle eyed, make good bacon too.”
“Wait did you say boars? As in bloody great pigs?” Mibbet asked incredulously. “I thought for a broom to fly required the core of a flying creature.”
“It does, they’re also eagle winged, on a much larger scale. So keep your eyes on the sky.”
Mibbet liked the sound of this less and less, porkers were the ultimate omnivores, at least an owl left pellets. Pigs wouldn’t even leave that, and boars also had bloody great big tusks and a temper. It would be like fighting twelve to fourteen tonnes of owl that only left your teeth. That did not sound like happy happy fun times. “I don’t know Hes.”
“Hey if you want both you and that cat of yours airborne you’re going to need a real hog. Your array is gonna need some serious grunt.” Hes said with a snicker.
At that Mibbet couldn’t resist a groan. “Knock that off” she snapped “flying pigs snort a laughing matter.”
Hes of course just grinned wider, “oh my my my, punning back. Is her highness finally ditching the royal sceptre she had jammed up her jacksie?”
This confused Mibbet who was pretty sure she would notice such a thing even given how new to this whole Crown Princess gig she was, while Rosalind took over and sputtered indignantly. “W..what? You saying I’m no fun?”
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“Quite the opposite Princess,” Hestia shot back. “Tormenting the hell out of a royal is the most fun I’ve had in ages, and you joining in with the jokes rather than having me executed for lese majeste is a definite plus in my book. Ribbing ya a little is just what we do in the Cacklers.”
“Fair enough” Mibbet replied, taking over again to let poor Rosalind recover. She really wasn’t used to people being irreverent while she was alone. (Partially because as a Princess nobody ever left her alone long enough to experience it. It would be nice to be alone every once in a while, being a Princess was kind of like living in the middle of a panopticon monitored entirely by mother in laws who disliked you and also ran the local neighbourhood maintenance committee. You know? The people who judge your garden while practically having theirs trimmed with a ruler and manicure scissors. In collaboration with your local church group.)
Another look (this time the mega sneaky kind) quickly revealed their overlarge porcine prey. How the hell those things ever got airborne was baffling to her. They were built in a way that made Alba look dinky, with a wingspan that definitely did not match, yet there they were hopping about, rooting through the treetops for food, and chirruping. “Well on the plus side they do seem to be total bird brains,” Mibbet muttered to herself. One of them seemed to have spotted something edible in a hole in one of the trees, and seemed to have decided in a very boar-like manner that round peg plus square hole equals CHARGE. Unsurprisingly the tree was somewhat reluctant to give up its secrets to mere brute force. But after two or three full force headbuts from airborne bacon the tree gave up, and decided to lie down roots in the air.
“Okay, this is going to suck.” Mibbet grumbled, “so what’s the plan here? I’m guessing not a head to head.”
“Not exactly, I fly, you chop. I can’t cast very well while concentrating on flying, and never really got the hang of the whole aiming thing. So I really hope you can pull this off.”
“So do I” Mibbet groaned. “How the hell do I let you talk me into these things? Alright you win, let’s get this carriage wreck on the road.”
“Music to my ears” Hes replied. “Now hopefully soon we’ll hear the sound of frying bacon, cause the alternative is crunch.”
“I do not like the sound of crunch, crunch is not a fun sound.”
“Then hold on tight” Hes said, kicking off and flying into the pack of particularly predatory airborne porkers.
Unsurprisingly the boars did not appreciate the sudden intrusion, and seemed to have decided on a specific mix of bird and pig-like responses, as they took turns to swoop down in a charge, their aim was clearly to get Hes back to the ground before they could gain too much elevation.
Hestia dodged and swerved through the grunting gauntlet, while Mibbet hacked and slashed at anything that got too close. All that practice on Alba had really paid off here as she had figured out how to hold the axe out in such a way that the enemy hit it at an angle. Maximising the damage, but of course that alone was not enough to take them down. They needed a new plan, and fast. The Boars were staying out of range until the charge. Until Mibbet figured it was time to do what frogs do best. As one was passing by she took careful aim and leapt.