Her giggling only grew louder as Shawchert took up a spot at the duck's plastic tail feathers and pushed. At first the old, rusted wheels groaned in protest but even decades of oxidation couldn't overpower the Luperci's strength, and soon the most stubborn rust flaked away and the thing grinded forward. After a few meters, the scraping noise died down as the old ride gave in to it's fate of having to work once more, even if this time it was powered manually rather than by the old generators and conduit that once fueled the attraction.
There were a few small hills, and each time Shawchert had to push her up one she'd pound on the side of the duck like a child, feigning impatience. “Faster, faster!” And then the duck would roll down the small incline and come to a stop, and Orin would tease him as she waited for him to catch up. After two or three of these miniature “hills,” the duck cart rolled to a stop, and Orin stared up in awe at the largest wooden hill of all.
“Oh my god!” She screeched, turning around in the cart and leaning over the yellow rear, a toothy grin pointed at Shawchert. This hill was too steep and too tall for Shawchert to push the cart up by himself, but the glint in Orin's eye told that she had other plans. “Are you thinking what I'm thinking?”
She didn't wait for his answer – instead she just climbed out of the car and put her hands on the tail. But she couldn't push it by herself; clearly she didn't mean for him to get in... yet.
“Once we get to the top, jump in!” If all went according to plan, they'd be plummeting down the other side in no time.
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