Scotch Muffin

by TheFoxern

4: Door

A door. Just a door. The path had been leading to a door. “Well...at least you didn't walk off the cliff...” Scotch said as she peered over the edge. It looked like just a mass of green at the bottom. Trees. Nothing but trees. But behind the door? Nothing. Cookie came up beside her, looking down. “You...can fly, right?” she said, slowly stepping away from the edge.

“Hm?” He looked at her and then his brow wrinkled in thought. “Uhm. Yes. I think so.” He stared at his wings, which flapped a few times. He smiled and nodded. “Yes. I am confident I can fly.”

“Good...” she said, looking around. The edge stretched on in either direction. It didn't look like it went down. Then her gaze went back to the door. “Who puts a door on the edge of a cliff?”

“Someone who doesn't want ponies to walk off the cliff?” Cookie was examining the door, with all the determination he could muster. Which looked like a surprising amount.

“That...” She hesitated a moment. It was silly, but, “That makes sense...” she said and walked up to the door. It was wood, or at least it looked like it was. There were carvings around the frame of random designs, but the door itself was bare, except for the doorknob.

“Yay sense!” he said, trotting back and forth happily.

Scotch had to give it to him. He had his moments where he was fairly smart and other times where he was...less so. That was a nice way of putting it. Though he did make her smile and cheer her up. “But why a door?” she said and then decided to knock on it. After a moment of nothing, she felt silly.

“Hm...no one's home,” Cookie said, and tried the doorknob. The door swung outward.

“...why is there a road on the other side?” she said, quite perplexed.

“Yay road.” He trotted through the doorway.

Scotch dashed to the side of the door and looked around it. Cookie was not there. The road was not there. She looked back through the doorway. It wasn't just a road, there was a forest, too. A forest that looked a lot more friendly. She could even see flowers. “Cookie?”

He trotted back around the door. “There's a cliff on that side.” He announced happily.

“What?” She leaned in and looked around the door frame. Her heart sank, and she clung to the frame. Her hooves did not meet, which logic says the should. As he said, from this side of the door, the cliff was on the other side. She took a few deep breaths and then moved away from the frame, and walked through the doorway. Part of her had expected to fall. But of course she didn't, standing on solid ground.

“It's nice in here.” He froze mid stride and paused thoughtfully. “Out here?” He looked at Scotch. “Are we inside, or outside now?”

She was looking back the way they had come through the door, it showed the path back. And it was a path on that side. On this side though, it was a road. A fairly nice road. It was made from some sort of blue stone that glistened. “This is weird...”

Cookie trotted over to her. “Are we inside, or outside?” he said, sounding slightly panicked. “When you go through a door you either go inside or outside.”

“Not necessarily...” she said as she closed the door and opened it again. Nothing had changed. “You can walk through a door inside a place, and still be inside. It works the same outside. You can be outside, walk through a door and still be outside.”

He relaxed a bit. “Ah. So we're outside?” She nodded. “Yay.” He jumped into a large group of flowers, sending petals flying everywhere.

“This is some powerful magic,” she said, staring at the door. The markings on the frame were the same on this side as they were on the other. Very powerful magic. She had no idea where she was now, and she'd never seen stones like the ones making up the road. They sparkled like gems. “Well...let's keep going.” She closed the door again. The view was disorientating her.

Cookie stopped in his role in the flowers and sat up. “Ok.” He was covered in flowers, grass, and petals.

Scotch smiled and giggled softly. “Yes. We'll keep following the road.”

They set off again, Cookie paying a bit more attention to where he was going, because as he put it, “I don't want to run into another door.”

Scotch was fine with this new place; everything seemed beautiful. There was the buzz of insects nearby, and the chirp of birds in the trees. The road felt nice under her hooves and there was a pleasant breeze. “This place seems so...unreal...” she said as she looked around. The colors seemed brighter and more cheerful.

“Unreal?” His eyes wandered around. “It is very different from the forest around the palace.” He grinned. “But I like it.”

“Oh, well, I like it as well. It's just...it doesn't feel real. The only forest I've ever seen is the Everfree...and that's not a very pretty place, it's-” She stopped and stared. “What...is that?”

“What?” Cookie looked around. “What where?” He followed the direction of her hoof, to something that even he found odd. It looked like half of a ball, made out of wood. It was taller than Scotch, and she wondered if she could get through the small door in the front. Perhaps if she squeezed, with a little help or- Why was there a door? There were a few moments of silence, before there was a knocking. Scotch blinked. “Anyone home?” Cookie said, trying to peer inside the little window beside the door.

There was silence, as Cookie sat expectantly. “I...do not think anyone is home,” Scotch said, sitting down beside him. “I don't think I've ever seen a house this small...maybe a dolls house...but it's bigger than one of those.”

“So it's a house for big dolls?” His head tilted to the side as he looked at her.

She blinked, and shook her head. “I...don't think so?” She hesitated. If it wasn't, then what was it? “I...don't know...” She had to admit, but she would find out. She moved to the side of the house, walking around it. She found another window and looked into it. Inside, she saw the tiniest kitchen she could imagine. She would take up at least half of the room if she could get in. It looked as though lunch had been set out on the table.

“Whatever lives in here is smaller than you, Scotch,” Cookie said with a bit of a grin at her. “If you were smaller I'd say you lived there.” His head bobbed up and down as he nodded knowingly.

“I do not think it is to my taste,” she said as she walked back around. “I mean really, look inside. No taste in color matching.”

Slowly the two of them moved back onto the road and for a moment, Scotch looked back at the little house. “Hey look,” Cookie said, trotting ahead. “There's more.”

When Scotch caught up, she could indeed see multiple of the little houses. They seemed to have entered a small village of sorts. “Who lives here?” she said, looking into another house.

“Or here,” Cookie said looking inside another house. He knocked gently at the front. “Hello? Little living things?” As he trotted towards another, something went crunch under his hoof. He froze immediately.

Scotch blinked and walked over to him, he was standing rigid. “Uh...Cookie? Are you alright.”

Slowly he moved his hoof away and underneath was shards of something that had been yellow. “I think I stepped on a hat...” he mumbled as he sat down, looking at his hoof.

There was a moment of silence as she stared at him. “Why do you think it was a hat? And why would it be made of pottery?”

“It felt like a hat,” there was a few seconds of hesitation. “Why do I know what a hat feels like to crunch?”

She looked at him. “That...is another good question...maybe you saw it just before you stepped on it? A hat that small would probably look like something inconsequential.”

Cookie stared at her, his eyes wide and blank. “Inconsequential?”

There was another moment of silence. “Unimportant,” she explained, giving him a slight smile. “A tiny hat would hardly be of interest to anypony.”

He frowned slightly. “I'm sure it is to the one who it belonged to...what if it was their only hat?” He started to push the little bits together into a pile.

“Well unfortunately we aren't able to fix it...” Scotch said as she watched him.

He looked up at her. “You're a unicorn though. Can't you fix it?”

She looked taken aback for a moment. “Uh...no...I can't do that kind of thing...best I could do is probably scorch it...or melt it depending on what it's made out of.”

His head slowly tilted to the side. “I don't see how that could be helpful...”

“Exactly,” she said as she straightened up slightly. “Which is why I wont do anything.” She turned around and froze.

There, sitting on a small chair was the tiniest pony Scotch had ever seen. It was colorful, and shimmered. Shimmered? It looked like some kind of delicate doll, made from clay and painted to shine in different colors. Yet Scotch thought the oddest things were the large butterfly wings that glistened in the sun. “Afternoon,” it said, "that was my hat."