When you came in the air went out [any]

[Texas]

and I discovered that my castles stand

upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand

Texas should have known better.

Below keeps talking, and Texas briefly wonders how much trouble he’ll get in if he accidentally forgets to keep an eye on the colt and he gets swept downriver. Not a lot, right? I mean, maybe a little. Maybe enough to avoid it, he decides, and rather than amble off downstream to let the boy play in the water decides to stand nearby.

This is a horrible idea, as the colt continues to chatter, and Texas looks down at his reflection in the chest deep water and wonders exactly how long it would take him to drown if he just stuck his head in and inhaled. Long enough for the colt to ask questions about drowning, he’s sure, so Texas turns back to Below with something akin to a muffled sigh.

“My mother was buckskin,” he replies, “and my father was chestnut. No pretty colors in my family.” He takes a moment to consider the rest of the residents of the Falls, and his expression lightens somewhat when he remembers Nixie. “I might be the only brown one, but there’s a mare here that’s so pink she makes you look rather dull.” Texas has never seen a color like Nixie’s before (though he’s not seen anything like Below either, with his spots and splotches of color). “You’d probably like her – her name’s Nixie.”

texas