Stop calling me Fluffy! The unicorn jerked to a halt and stomped the ground with a forehoof, It’s insulting and degrading and I will not stand for it!

“Fine,” Sam shrugged and kept walking towards the library.

The unicorn stood silent for a moment, ears flicking back and forth in confusion. Finally with a head-bob, he broke into a trot to catch up. He slowed back to a walk once he was beside her and the two trudged through the un-shoveled snow. After a few minutes broken only by the slushy echo of boot and hoof, he nudged her shoulder with his nose.

What do you mean ‘fine’?

Sam shrugged again, “I meant fine, I’ll stop calling you Fluffy. All you had to do was ask.”

Oh. He chewed the air sheepishly.

“So?”

So what?

Sam raised an eyebrow. “So, what am I supposed to call you? Horse? Hey you? Big-ass Equine? Figment of a Deranged Imagination? Horny?”

There was a long pause.

I think I’ll stick with Fluffy.