Try to imagine a life without timekeeping.
You probably can't. You know the months, the year, the day of the week. There is a clock on your wall or atop your office desk. You have a schedule, a calender, a time for dinner or a movie.
Yet all around you, timekeeping is ignored. Birds are not late. A dog does not check its watch. Bears do not fret over passing birthdays.
Ponykind alone measures time.
Ponykind alone chimes the hour.
And, because of this, ponykind alone suffers a paralyzing fear that no other creature endures...
A fear of time running out.
With this mantra running through mind, I make my final pilgrimage to the throat of the world as one, sole thought courses through my mind. I know this is it...
...Ultimatum.
Chapters (2)
Wow, just. Its so beautiful. Your wording is perfect, and you display the characters with such art.
Not sure if you'll ever read this review. Maybe if you have email review notifications turned on, but doubtful otherwise.
Well, in any event, that was a beautiful story to read, with a lot of powerful, vivid imagery.
I'm uncertain as to the total metaphor of the entire fiction, though given the end it sounds like Scootaloo is a little grateful to her passed-on mother, who she believes came back in spirit form to give her a little bit of guidance in Scootaloo's life? That's how I'm reading it, with Scootaloo's mother having been a single mom. Scootaloo is surprisingly nihilistic to start the story, so it is good that she got some help.
The story weakens a little bit in that there's really no reason in the driving narrative for the character to have been Scootaloo. It could have been a number of other characters, with the only hitch being that Scootaloo's wings are essential for bits of the story when she's contemplating jumping off the cliff.
That's a very profound line.