My partner was more cautious and afraid than I expected he’d be. He walked in front of me, and I followed a few feet behind. He was silent and shaking excessively, holding the lead rope with both hands close to his chest. The creature was still busy with its meal, behaving suspiciously oblivious. Water from the lake dripped from the creature’s body, making a puddle of mud just below it.

I watched my partner from a short distance as he slightly extended both arms with each step. In just the wrong moment, he took a large step forward and broke a twig under his shoe. The creature’s ears pinned back, immediately leaning its head up and turning its head to look at him. It whinnied loudly, rearing on its hind legs. In a panic, my partner attempted to throw the lead rope over the kelpie’s neck, but he did an awful job and it fell right back.

The kelpie rushed back into the water and disappeared under. My partner had fallen back onto the ground, his breaths heavy with fear.

“It didn’t work.” He spat his words out.

“I can tell.” I replied, lending a hand to help him up.

I looked over and saw the kelpie’s head slightly emerged from the water like an alligator, its eyes staring through me. It was motionless and somehow balancing itself in the water perfectly–like it was just floating. I glared at it for a moment, ignoring the frantic complaints from my partner. After many moments, many more kelpie heads emerged from the water behind it.