The elf, the horse and the travelling gourmet

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when a horse's hoof fell in front of her.

"Hello, Mister Hoof!"  The elf jumped up and grabbed the long hair on the fetlock.  Back and forth she swung.  "Whoooooo-ee!," she yelled.  "I'm riding a horse!"

The horse reared up and Etwas was thrust upward like a rocket.  The horse drew circles in the air and the elf's cheeks were pulled tight by the centrifugal prancing.  Just for fun, she let go on an upswing and flew high into the air, turned at the apogee and dove into the horse's withers.  The chestnut horse stood back down and pulled its head up, nestling the equestriennette in warm, salty black hair.

"Why, Etwas!" cried the rider, with delight in her voice.  "Did you come to help me celebrate my birthday?"

The elf looked down through the horsehair and saw long, black boots.  She pulled aside some horsehair and saw above the boots the hem of a lacy black dress.  The little elf wrapped the rest of the horsehair blocking her view into a turban and could see the peerlessly warm and glad smile of her Aunt Anteres, the Good Witch of the South, beaming down at her."

"Hi, Aunteres!  Happy birthday!  What is that?"  Tied to the pommel of the saddle was a tiny crock pot.  "Love potion? Clairvoyance concoction? Goat entrail?"

"Gumbo!" answered the witch.

"Oh boy!" yelled Etwas.

"Kiss first!" cautioned her Aunt.  "Never take a witch's stew for granted."  So Etwas bounded down the horse's neck and on to her auntie's lap where they traded hugs and hopped onto her hand that lifted to the witch's mouth for a birthday buss.  Then they shared the okra stew. Uncle Arturo, walking alongside, mumbled that he could eat too.

And ever since then, Elves never judge visitors by their horseshoes.

Happy birthday to Aunt Anteres and Uncle Arturo from Etwas the Elf.