The boy smiled widely. “Dude.”
And then he squawked loudly as the giant picked him up and held him against his chest before turning back to the unicorn.
“I keep him,” Tiggy said. “He’s mine.”
“You can’t keep him,” the unicorn said. “He’s a human. Do you know how much upkeep they require? They eat and poop all the time.”
“Not all the time,” the boy said. “I feel I eat and poop the regular amount of time. Maybe even a little less.”
“He’s mine,” Tiggy said again. “I call him Steve.”
“Uhhh,” the boy said.
“Steve,” the unicorn said flatly. “That’s… okay. He looks like a Steve. I guess.”
“I’m not a Steve,” the boy said. “I’m a Sam.”
“Steve,” Tiggy said. “You’re Steve. My Steve. I love you, tiny Steve.”
Sam twisted in the half-giant’s arms until he could get level with his face. He reached out and squished Tiggy’s cheeks in his hand, making the half-giant pucker his lips. “Saaaaaam,” the boy said slowly. “Saaaaaaam.”
“Steeeeeeve,” Tiggy said.
“Oh my gods,” the unicorn muttered.
“You can keep me if you call me Sam,” the boy said.
Tiggy pouted.
“Aww,” Sam said. “That face.”
“Sam,” Tiggy said and Sam grinned. Tiggy sat down and held the boy in his lap. “I keep Sam,” he told the unicorn.
The unicorn leaned forward and snuffled along Sam’s face and neck and the boy laughed and laughed. The unicorn finished and stepped back. “You smell like magic,” he said finally.
“I’m a wizard.”
The unicorn waited.
“Okay. Not quite a wizard. An apprentice.”
“To who?”
“Morgan of Shadows,” Sam said proudly.
The unicorn looked suitably impressed. “You’re an apprentice to the King’s Wizard?”
“Yep. What’s your name? How old are you? Do you like cheese? I once ate a whole block of cheese by myself and threw up for six hours.”
The unicorn stared at him. Then, “Gary.”
“Your name is Gary,” Sam said.
“Yes.”
“Ah. That’s… not very unicorn-like.”
Gary scowled. “And what is unicorn-like?”