Night Trotter
Chapter One: House Warming
Celestia’s sun was just beginning to paint the sky a deep morning red when Wild Charger stepped out the hospital doors. He had been in the medical facilityl for six hours carrying Cotton between rooms, and now she was on his back again so he could take her home to rest. Cotton pointed him in the right direction of her apartment complex, and he began a steady trot.
At a glance, it was easy to see that Cotton was in bad shape. Scrapes and bruises dotted her underside, easily visible through the fur, even after the wounds had been clean. Her jaw was sprained and wrapped in gauze to keep her from moving it more than she needed to. She even had a cast keeping both her back legs and flank in a stationary position.
Cotton had no problem dealing with her bound snout, she could speak through it well enough, and she could even get through the pain on her underside; but the cast was torture. It was itchy, it was uncomfortable, and worst of all impeded her movement to slow shuffles. The doctor had been kind enough to make the area that covered her thighs out of a more flexible material, so she could at least move her back legs enough to avoid having to drag her rear behind her, but it was barely enough to ease the burden.
Pausing her thoughts for a moment, Cotton tapped on Wild’s shoulder. “Takth the netht rith.” She heard the stallion laugh through his snout over her attempt to speak through the novacaine, then he cheerfully obeyed orders and turned at the end of the block.
Other than the belly injuries, the cast, and the sprained jaw, she did not know if there was anything else wrong. The doctor had used his magic to hover a clipboard in front of Wild’s head and asked him to read it. He looked over it for a few moments, longer than would have been comfortable, and Cotton could see his smile fade ever so slightly. He had given her a thoughtful look for a moment before turning, murmuring “I’ll handle it” to the doctor, then continuing his conversation with her while they waited for more medical results.
Cotton couldn’t help but wonder what was written on that clipboard, and why this stallion wanted to wait to tell her. Could she have some internal bleeding? No, they would have kept her at the hospital if it were that serious. Or maybe it was just so bad they figured nothing could be done, so they sent her home to die in her own bed. There was a ping of worry in the pit of her stomach, making her more nauseous than she already was. On the verge of panicking, she brushed a few stray hairs behind her ear, as she always did when she became stressed, and pushed the thought to the back of her mind. She was just being over-dramatic. Wild probably just didn’t want her to worry anymore than she had to given she was assaulted only several hours earlier. She’d just ask him about it later. For now she turned her attention to the city around her.
A few ponies were already walking along the limestone streets beginning their daily routines. The sun was just high enough to peek over the buildings at the far end of the street, casting long shadows behind the city’s inhabitants. The buildings were getting older the closer they got to her apartment. This section of the city was nearly fifty years old, meaning the buildings were made of wood rather than stone. The architecture was different as well; each building was about six or seven stories tall, shorter than the stone ones in the newer section of the city but taller than the older ones. The triangular struts that allowed the ones around her to be so tall extended out the walls of the buildings, creating right triangle patterns across the fronts.
As they neared the end of the street, Cotton spied the building she had come to call home sitting on the street corner. It was the oldest building in the area, so it was only three stories tall, but nonetheless looked nice. It was built before triangular patterns became common in the architecture, allowing it to have more windows on the front. The wooden walls were polished to a glistening light brown texture and the supports at the sides and corners were a bit darker. The two top floors had five shuttered windows each, spaced evenly across each side with frame colors that matched the supports and white curtains hanging inside. The bottom floor was different from the others, having long windows across that stretched the length of the building, only pausing to make room for the support beams. Directly inside were red booths and cream tables, some occupied by ponies here and there but mostly empty. The entrance to the eatery was at the corner of the building, indented into the wall a few feet. To top it all off, a sign reading “Beef Stew’s” hung above the door and over the sidewalk, casting a swinging shadow onto the ground farther away.
Once more, Cotton tapped on Wild’s shoulder with her hoof. “Thee bar ofer there ath the corner?”
Wild looked down the street and studied the building she had indicated for a moment, noticing how different it was from the others. “The short building?” he asked, motioning in the direction.
“Yeth. Go up the stairs ath the back of ith.” Cotton chewed on her tongue a bit. The novacaine was finally beginning to wear off, but not enough to stop the stallion carrying her from laughing.
Wild nodded and trotted toward the building. When he entered, a bell above the door rang and a few ponies looked up for a moment, quickly returning to what they were doing, then looking again to reanalyze what they saw.. A gray stallion behind the bar looked up and his face filled with surprise. Cotton suddenly realized how strange it must look for a random pony to walk into the bar with a bandaged mare slung over his back. She gathered enough courage to put on an awkward smile and whispered into Wild’s ear, “Get up the stairs before ponies start asking questions.”
Wild had no problem complying and trotted to and up the stairs at a brisk pace. He and Cotton disappeared behind the walls and arrived in a long hallway on the second floor of the building. Hung around the walls were a few old looking black and white pictures over a flowery wallpaper. The only two doors were situated at the end of the hallway, flanking a plant and the center window on the end wall. Figuring her apartment must be one of the two, he proceeded forward.
“It’s the one on the right,” Cotton told Wild. “Spare key is in the flower pot.”
Wild grabbed the key from plant on the windowsill and carefully undid the latch on the door. He pushed the door open and headed into the room. The first thing he noticed was a mixture of pleasant aromas that filled the room, cinnamon and something that smelled sweet being the most dominant. The next thing was just how large the apartment was. He had walked in to a room that had to take up at least a quarter of the floor. Directly in front of him was the living area with a bookshelf against the wall to his right, a short couch a bit in front of that, and a table in front of it. Across the table was a longer couch that sat under one of the two windows along the wall to Wild’s left. Beyond the living area was a small but well-used kitchen with metal ware, dishes, and ingrediants scattered around the counters. A bar with two stools separated the kitchen from the living area. To the right of the kitchen was a relatively small, circular dining table with a few cushions for seats. It was plainly obvious to Wild that this mare did very good with the space she had available, and he couldn’t even imagine what the rooms down the hall between the dining table and bookshelves looked like.
Cotton quickly became aware of Wild staring at her living quarters, “I’ve rearranged a few times, but I think I found a setup that works,” she mentioned sheepishly.
“I’ll say.” Wild said, pushing the door closed with his back leg after tossing the key back in the pot, “This place looks like something you’d see in a furniture advertisement.”
“That sounds like something my neighbor would say. Could you set me down on the couch?” Wild moved forward and carefully helped Cotton down. After a moment of struggling and a few breaths of pain from the mare, Cotton lay on her belly with her legs stretched out across the cushions. “Ah, it feels good to be home.”
Wild took the liberty of letting his saddlebag slide off his back and lay near the door. Opening one of the pockets, he pulled out a clipboard and a few small jars, placing them on the table one by one.
“Don’t get too comfortable yet,” Wild said as he began reading the paper, “You’ve still got to take the medicine the doctor prescribed. I recognize some of these herbs and they’re pretty bitter. You got a measuring cup anywhere?”
Cotton gestured toward her kitchen, “Check the drawer beside the hearth. If you don’t see it, just look around a bit.”
Wild nodded and walked around the bar into the kitchen, the state of which immediately shocked him. There were pots and pans filling up the sink and pouring onto the counter, the hooks that lined the walls almost completely void of the objects they were intended to hold. More utensils were scattered around the counter in pseudo-random places. Wild proceeded to open the drawer next to the brick cooking area, seeing nothing but a few spoons and forks. Figuring the rest of the compartments were just as empty, he scanned the counter.
Right in front of him on the hearth he found what was giving off the pleasant aroma he detected when he first entered the apartment. A small mixing bowl sat on the grill with a spoon hanging off its edge. Wild took a moment to waft the smell into his nostrils and let out a contented sigh.
“Is this cinnamon?” he asked out loud.
Cotton was staring out the window behind her when the question came, pulling her from her thoughts. “The stuff in the bowl? I didn’t know I left that out.” She rubbed the back of her head with a hoof, feeling silly that a stranger was going through her mess.
Wild took another sniff, “It smells wonderful. Were you about to bake?”
“Thanks, and yeah. You can just ignore all that, I’ll clean it up later.” Cotton hurried her response, not wanting to talk about her disorganization anymore.
Wild sensed the mare’s slight change and could tell she was embarrassed by his responses, but he didn’t see how she could clean the kitchen herself in her current state. He decided to ask her about it later and continued his search.
Meanwhile, Cotton simply gazed out her window, watching the sun get higher and the shadows get shorter. Wild finally emerged from the kitchen a few moments later, measuring cup in mouth, and sat his rump on the floor in between the table and Cotton.
“Where’d you find it?”
“Fridge. Behind your carving knife.”
Cotton’s face turned red, but Wild quickly got her attention by tapping the clipboard on the table. “Pay attention, you’re going to need to know when to take this medicine.”
He set the clipboard on the table and lifted the top paper, reading the instructions underneath. Cotton waited for him to begin speaking, but after a moment of silence she shifted herself over in an attempt to look at his face. She caught a glimpse of his eyes struggling on the paper before he heard her movement and turned around quickly, his face showing a bit of uneasiness. “Need something? Heh.” he laughed uncomfortably.
“No,” she said, trying to read his expression, “I’m just waiting for you to read it to me.”
“Oh! Yeah. Um...,” he grabbed the top page off the board, seemingly doing his best to keep her from seeing it, and handed the rest to Cotton, “Maybe it’d be better if you read them yourself, so you could remember. Just…just read them out loud and I’ll get out what you need for today.”
Cotton grabbed the board and parchment and set it in front of her, beginning to read aloud. “Two Welder’s plant petals every morning. Next one says an inch of nurnroot once a day for a week. Bisogli? Erm, no. Bisoglyp?”
“Bisoglyphus,” Wild corrected, “The buffalo used to make parchment out of it. Now it’s mainly used to prevent cramping. It’s also called the Ferrier’s flower.”
Cotton noted the horseshoe shape of the flower bulb as Wild pulled one out of a jar. “That’s actually pretty interesting. One petal from that before every meal.”
Wild picked the petal off and set it in a pile he was making for the medications. “Thanks. I like to learn about things like this when I get the chance.”
“Do you know what that is?” Cotton asked, pointing to the last jar full of small black seeds.
“That’s an easy one, it’s Wolf’s bane.” Wild said a bit proudly, tipping his snout in the air.
“Says I need to chew on it frequently. Got any useful knowledge on what it’s supposed to do?”
“It’s slightly poisonous, but for Earth ponies it’s used as a pain reliever.” Wild took a couple out and handed them to Cotton, who rolled them a bit in her hoof.
“Poisonous?” she asked, her face showing a little disgust.
Wild waved his hoof dismissively, “Oh not that bad! It’ll most likely make you a little groggy every now and then. Worst case scenario you throw up. It’s like food poisoning!”
His wide grin didn’t match his description of the plant at all. Cotton handed the seeds back and stuck her tongue out in disgust, “You’re not making me feel better about it.”
Wild scooped up the petals and root into the cup of water and helped the mare place it in her mouth. “Here, these are pretty bitter, but I’ll tell you a secret. Swallow it in one gulp, and it’ll go a lot easier.”
The scent from the petals wafted into her nostrils as she held the cup in her mouth. The distinct stench made her eyes water, it was like somepony was holding hot sauce under her nose. She looked at Wild one last time with a pleading look, hoping to get out of it. But what she saw was the same smile he gave her when she disappeared into the MRI machine at the hospital. Her worries were quelled,at least enough to go for it, and she tipped her head back to gulp down the medicine. She coughed for a moment as it all went down, but quickly regained her composure and handed the cup back to Wild.
“See, goes a lot quicker than just sitting there all miserable thinking about how bad it tastes, huh?” Wild grinned and pulled some more equipment out of the bag.
“Yeah,” Cotton wiped her eyes that had grown watery from the stench, “it helped a little. What’s next?”
Wild placed a few rolls of gauze, a bottle, and some patches on the table. He took a step back so that Cotton could see them. “Doc said you’ll have to replace your bandages every day. They’ll get infected otherwise.”
Cotton sat up a bit, but grabbed her chest when pain shot through her. After is subsided, she responded, “How am I supposed to do that by myself?”
Wild gripped a Wolf’s bane seed and handed it to Cotton for her pain. She looked up at him with a thankful expression and dropped it in her mouth, noting the strange taste. “In your condition, I don’t think you can. It would probably be a good idea if somepony could come and stay with you for the next few weeks while you heal. Do you have anyone in mind?”
“No, not that I can remember. My parents are…passed. No siblings. Oh, but I’ve got a cousin in Canterlot! He sends letters every few months to see how I’m doing!”
Wild went ahead and began putting the medications back into their respective jars, “If he can take the time off, then go ahead and send him a letter. But Canterlot is days away even for a pegasi. Can anyone take care of you until he gets here?”
“There’s Stew. He owns the place downstairs. But I don’t think he’d be able to come away from his business every time I need something. Then across the hall is my neighbor Midnight, but his job keeps him away for weeks.”
“What about the third floor?”
“Just a bunch of storage rooms. Stew lives up there.”
“Any other relatives?” Cotton shook her head. “Coworkers?” Same response. “Anyone owe you a favor?” Again, she shook her head.
Wild sighed, feeling a bit defeated. He waved a hoof, “Do you have any friends?” He immediately realized his mistake when the pink pony’s head moved back and her face took on a shocked expression. Wild’s hoof shot up to his mouth. “No, wait! I didn’t mean it like that!”
Cotton laughed, muffled by the bandages around her jaw, and gave Wild a joking nudge, “You are too easy! It just took me by surprise, that’s all.”
The stallion rubbed the hairs on the back of his head, letting out a nervous chuckle. “Heh, yeah, sorry about that. I kind of stop thinking if the conversation gets too long.”
“Don’t worry about it. Now back to your question: I’ve got a couple friends that might be willing to help out, there’s…” her voice trailed off as she prolonged the last word and brought a hoof to her chin. Her facial expression turned slowly between thoughtful and confused for the next few moments as she tried to complete her sentence. After a moment she lifted her hoof in an ‘ah-hah!’ moment and Wild looked at her expectantly. When seconds passed and she didn’t say anything, she lowered her head in defeat. She lifted her bangs and rubbed her forhead as if to check for a fever then shook her head, “That’s funny. I can’t seem to remember.”
Wild coughed uneasily, “Uh, yeah, there’s some things I need to tell you about your condition. You’ve got a slight concussion. Before you worry, there’s no permanent damage, but the doctor said you’re going to have a little trouble until you recover.” He paused a moment to let the information sink in, “That’s another reason you need someone here with you; you may not be up to anything too mentally-stressing for a few weeks.”
Cotton sulked into her couch, “That’s...that’s not really an option for me. My boss has me working on something really important to the company right now.”
“Whatever it is, I’m sure somepony else can handle it for you.”
The pink mare attempted to lift herself. “No, this is my last shot! If I don’t show up I’ll be fired!” She blocked all pain from her mind and moved to get off the couch to prove she could. She managed to stand up straight with a slight wince. Jumping off the couch, her cast fell inbetween the cushions and she fell forward. Wild, watching the Cotton intently to make sure she didn’t strain herself, moved his head down and caught her above his neck, but gravity still managed to bring her muzzle to the floor with an audible bump.
Cotton held her hooves to her face as Wild shimmied the mare onto his back. “Ow, ow, ow, oooowwww!” He took the bag of medications in his teeth and began heading down the hall at the other end of the room.
“That settles that,” he said, taking a guess at which door was Cotton’s bedroom and heading inside.
The bedroom was set up similarly to the den, with all the furniture well organized for how small the area was. In the middle of the room was a dominating queen sized bed with a short dresser on one side. On top of the dresser had a candle, reading lamp, and alarm clock, and at the front on the floor was a stack of novels, all well-worn form repeated usage. A window looked out over the street to the left, letting much less light in than the others in the apartment as it wasn’t facing the still-rising sun,but the alleyway between buildings.The light fell on the bottom half of a light blue blanket that covered the bed.
Wild noted the changed in scent as he helped Cotton onto her bed, this time it being vanilla. He made a spot on the dresser for the bag as Cotton clumsily dug herself under her covers with her front hooves.
“I really do need to go to work.” Wild turned to Cotton, her eyes were pleading and she was still holding onto her snout. Again, he could see the severity of her condition in cut on her neck and bandage on her snout. He was surprised at her will to return to work given the circumstances, but the lines under her eyes and how far she was under the blanket indicated she also had some desire to just rest. He stared at her for a moment, then turned back to pull something out of the bag.
“Did you hear me? I can’t lose my job.” Wild paused for a moment, acknowledging that he had heard, but then continued what he was doing, seemingly ignoring what the mare was saying.
Cotton was starting to become angry. Yes, this stallion had helped her so far, but she had been experiencing incredibly bad luck when it came to her job in recent months. Her current project was her last chance, and if she didn’t deliver like she promised, she would definitely get the hoof. Without an income to hold her over, healing didn’t matter to her one bit.
Tensing up, she lifted herself again just as Wild pulled out a small baggy. She looked him in his face and pulled the gauze off of her wrapped muzzle, ignoring the pain that shot through her head. “Look, I don’t know who you are, but you don’t understand. My livelihood depends on tomorrow, and if I don’t deliver, I will not get a second chance. I’ve got everything handled from here, and I won’t do anything excessive or unnecessary. Thank you for your help, but-” She was cut off by a hoof pushing her shoulder back down to the bed.
She looked up quizzically at Wild. “Just lay still for a moment.” He bit down on the gauze and used a hoof to begin re-wrapping Cotton’s snout. The pain she felt was counteracted by how embarrassingly close the stallion’s mouth was getting to her own, yet he seemed to not mind at all.
Wild tucked the end of the gauze under the midsection and moved away. Cotton held her muzzle for the third time, gritting her teeth at the pain. “I understand, you’re job is important,” he began. He handed another her seed to chew on, which she eagerly obliged to. “But you’re condition is much worse than you think. I haven’t told you everything yet.”
Wild grabbed the baggy and rubbed it between his hooves, looking for something hard inside. A click could be heard, then the bag swelled, turning from clear brown to white. He handed it to Cotton, who immediately noted how cold as ice the hard substance inside it was. She looked up and the stallion directed her to put it on her snout. She did so, assuming it to be some kind of ice pack, and immediately felt relief.
She stared at him unbelievingly. He was being so helpful, even despite her yelling a moment ago and stupidly ripping off her gauze, he put it back on and eased the pain like it was nothing.
The yellow stallion noticed her thoughtful expression and returned it with his trademark warm smile, “Since you can’t remember everything right now, I’ll come back by later today. We still have more to talk about, but you need rest. We’ll figure out everything later. Okay?”
Cotton reluctantly agreed. Although she was still worried, this stallion seemed to know what he was doing. She rested her head back on her pillows. “Okay. I’ll rest, but you have to promise me you’ll be back later. Deal?”
Wild blew out the candle lamp on the dresser and walked out the door frame. He turned and nodded, “Deal,” before closing the door behind him.
Cotton heard a few more hoof steps traveling down the hallway, and then her front door close and lock. Laying her head back, she adjusted the ice pack so that it would lean against her muzzle without her intervention, but the weight still would not hurt her. Now that everything was quiet, she was beginning to feel all the different areas of her body that were in pain.
Still, the fact that the strange stallion, Wild Charger, would be back later to help out eased her mind enough that she was able to fall asleep without anymore thought.