//------------------------------//
// Chapter 4: Trails And Errors 
// Story: The Unity Pact 
// by Truthseeker 
//------------------------------//



The tracks headed off to the South-West, around the mountain and I followed them as quickly as I could.  I tied the blanket around my shoulders and used it to carry the cabbage and knife. It made traveling much easier and the walking stick Masonete gave me helped even more.

The tracks followed a game trail and I followed that. The forest was thick and lush and there were plenty of times I had to crouch or push branches out of my way. I could tell that the trail wasn't too heavily traversed but it was easy to follow.

I had to stay alert though. The tracks from the two equinoids could veer away from the trail and I knew that. I kept my eyes mostly on the tracks and not the trail.

I walked until around noon then stopped and ate a  lunch of cabbage. The raw cabbage was... cabbage-y. It filled me up though and helped me stay hydrated. I ate as little of it as I could so that my full stomach wouldn't make me lethargic.

My small meal finished, I continued my journey. Late in the afternoon I found the trail beginning to descend down the mountain. The footing was treacherous and much more rocky. I was making my way down the mountain, still following the game trail when I saw a clearing up ahead through the trees. I slowed down and double checked the tracks. They went straight through the center of the clearing.

The clearing was roughly six hundred feet in an approximate circle. The bright green grass was knee high and thickly grown. I would be effectively blind trying to make my way across. The thought of not being able to see where I was stepping did not sit well with me. I quickly contemplated venturing around the clearing and dismissed the idea just as quickly, 'It would waste time to do so and I might waste even more time trying to find the tracks again.' I squared my shoulders and began very slowly making my way across the field. I gently shuffled my feet and carefully shifted my weight as I inched my way through the grass. I utilized the walking stick to feel for any signs of rocks or roots and especially snakes.

I was about halfway through the clearing when I heard a distant yell and the sound of flapping wings overhead. I raised my eyes and saw a flight of winged equinoids pass above me. I counted ten of them and they looked to be wearing a type of bronze barding. They were flying in a 'V' formation so I decided against trying to signal them for fear of being attacked. It did give me hope though, 'I'm probably not too far from a settlement.' I thought.

I returned to my shuffling and before too long, I had reached the far side of the clearing. The tracks were thankfully easy to pick up, so I bent myself once more and focused on my task. As I walked, I kept an eye out for the oak trees Ludwig had told me about. I tried identifying every tree but eventually they all began to look the same. I ended up losing the tracks for a short time. I panicked for several long minutes until I found them again. I happened to also find a slew of acorns while I had been panicking. I planted my walking stick in the dirt near the tracks and went back to look for the acorns. The search took only a minute or two. I scooped up several hand fulls, as many as I could manage, and stuffed them into my impromptu haversack. I returned to my planted stick and found the trail again.

I continued my trek until the sun began to set but saw no other signs indicating any sort of settlement was close by. Lady luck smiled upon me. I found a tiny stream flowing in the midst of a stand of maple trees. The trees were very closely packed, so much so that I had to actually squeeze between several of them to reach a small flat space in the center of them. I could not have asked for a more ideal place to sleep. The mini-clearing was oblong, being no more than fifteen feet across and eight feet wide. The tiny stream flowed longways through the clearing and the leaves from the trees hid no dangers to my soft feet.

I tossed down my walking stick and unslung the blanket from my shoulder carefully. I made certain not to lose any of the acorns I had gathered earlier. I set the blanket down and sat myself beside it. It felt so good to sit down. My feet hurt. I was used to standing in one place for hours at a time, like I had at The Complex but I had boots with gel soles then. My three hundred plus pound mass walking for a whole day without shoes had put a significant strain on my feet. I rubbed at my feet while idly pondering why my feet hadn't hurt the day before. The only conclusion I could come to was that I occasionally sat down so it must have taken the pressure off my poor feet.

I quickly finished with my feet and began shelling acorns in the rapidly fading light. Most of them were fresh and milky white but there were some that had black spots. Those I threw away. I shelled until I could barely see anymore, then I wrapped the acorns into the blanket, weighed it down with small stones from the stream and set the whole thing in the water to soak overnight.

I used my bare hands to scrape away the lose leaves and piled them up for a basic pillow, complete with a few spiders. I kept the obsidian knife close at hand and my walking stick right next to me. I slowly drifted off to sleep wondering how my friends were doing.

*          *          *

The entire Fellowship of Leadership stood in front of an entire field of people that same night. The Security team had taken a vote of who else to include since some people were beginning to claim the Security team had too much control. Kaneesha Edwards, Eduardo Ortega, Leo Brock, Jason Campbell, and Morris Almond had been voted in. Leo was a close vote. Almost no one liked him, but they could agree that even assholes could have the best interest of the group at heart. With the new members, every one sat down and debated on what the leaders should be referred to. The decided on title was Fellowship of Leadership.

It had been an interesting day. Masonete had reported that one specific African-American man had been sneaking away from the group set to build shelters. He had followed him and found him examining a single thick stick lying in the forest that surrounded the field. He had waited until the man had gone, then snuck over and examined the stick for himself. It had been covered with blood. Masonete reported his finding to Joyner and the two of them had collected the branch then confronted the young man.

"This man, Mario LeBlanch, has been found guilty of the murder of Kyle Sterling. He has admitted his guilt but claims justification by way of 'group safety'. He claims he was doing something that needed to be done otherwise he believes Kyle would have eventually done the same thing to an innocent person. His guilt is not in question. He is guilty of premeditated, first degree murder of a man. The question set before all of you is the question of punishment. There are only a few possible forms of punishment: execution, marking, maiming, or absolution of his actions. This will be decided by show of hands and persons. First, is any one in favor of excusing a murderer for his crime? Show of hands please."

A few hands raised, but not many, Joyner continued, "Is any one in favor of execution?"

A great number of hands shot up, "All in favor of execution, walk over to the shelters to be counted." he turned to Ludwig, "Are you prepared to execute a man?"

Ludwig took a deep breath then slowly nodded, "I can be the monster so no one else has to." His expression was grim, but determined.

Joyner nodded solemnly then turned to two of his people, "Alright then. Brinsin, Spearman go count heads. Start separately and end separately then come back to me with final numbers."

He turned back to his team, "Jewel, what would be the least painful and most merciful way to execute a person given what we have available to us at the moment?"

Jewel put his hand to his chin in thought, "We could force the condemned to eat some of those poisonous mushrooms. Eric died pretty painlessly."

Hord reluctantly raised his hand, "If I may make an observation sir?"

Joyner nodded, "Go ahead."

"I REALLY hate to say this, but any public execution is to instill fear of consequences into the people, correct?" he asked.

"That's right." Joyner said, "Go on."

"Oh GOD I don't believe I'm saying this." Hord took a deep breath and continued his thought, "Wouldn't it be much more effective if the execution were as gruesome and horrifying as possible? It's inhumane and cruel as all fuck, but... it would probably be more effective."

"I hate to say it, but I was thinking the same thing." Vacca admitted quietly.

"Yeah, it would, but at what point do we draw the line? Should we prolong the suffering of a single human being by a tortuous death just to drive home a point? If I were in his position, I would want it to be painless and quick." Masonete said.

"I agree," Jewel said, "We can't just go and torture someone. We'd be no better than barbarians. I spent my time in the military saving people and doing my best to ease people's suffering. I am not going to change that now."

"Yo, we can't just go and ignore what he did an' if we go easy on one murderer or we'll be expected to do the same to any more that pop up. We got to make it terrible, it sucks to say, but we got to make an example o' him." Calvin argued.

"Ain't happenin'!" Richardson said, "We ain't gonna torture no one. What the hell are we Nazis? Civilized people don't do that shit."

"We adibin' by the Code o' Hammurabi. It says death meets death. If we bend on one ereone's gonna think we gonna do the same for them. We'll be overrun by killers." Kaneesha added.

"I don't give a shit what any o' you think!" Leo said passionately, "We got to make this shit consistent!" the Fellowship of Leadership fell to silence, "We got to make every execution consistent! They all got to be done the same fuckin' way! We don't change shit for any one. One crime, one penalty! We got to do that for each crime! Once we make that choice, we fuckin' stick to that shit! The consistency will mean more than brutalizin' one dude! that's what's wrong wit the U.S. erebody's punished different! One punishment for erebody no matter who they are!"

Silence reigned.

Brinsin and Spearman walked back over to the Fellowship of Leadership,
"I counted 461." Spearman said.

"I got 457." Brinsin said.

"Alright those numbers are pretty close and in either case it's a majority decision. He's going to be executed. Merciful or brutal, show of hands."

The Fellowship voted silently, Joyner nodded, "Merciful it is. We have two options: eating the mushrooms or cutting his throat. Show of hands for the mushrooms."

The Leadership voted a second time, Joyner announced the decision, "The punishment for every murder is death by exsanguination, via cut throat. Calvin, Brinsin, Spearman, and Hord hold him down. Ludwig, once he's held and I give the signal, administer the punishment. Understood?"

They all nodded as Joyner turned back to the crowd, "The sentence is death by exsanguination. Sentence to be witnessed by all and carried out immediately. Seize the Condemned and bring him to the middle of the field."

Mario LeBlanch looked up as the four men solemnly stepped toward his kneeling form, "So," he asked, "Yall assholes gonna kill me for doin' the right thing?"

The four former Security Officers nodded, "Do we need to drag you Mr. LeBlanch?" Hord asked.

Without a word, he rose to his feet calmly. Calvin, Brinsin, Spearman, and Hord thought he meant to go to his death quietly. They were wrong. In a blur of motion, Mario LeBlanch turned and ran toward the forest as quickly as he could.

The four men gave chase. Spearman and Hord quickly pulled ahead with Brinsin close behind and Calvin bringing up the rear. The forest was several hundred feet away but they knew they would be hard pressed to catch Mario if he made it that far. They pumped their legs hard as they ran behind the condemned man but Mario was faster. His fear drove him onward, his body moving with a speed he had never known before. He began to pull farther and farther away from his pursuers.

"Stop um!" Brinsin yelled, "If he gets away he might try to kill everyone!"

"I won't!" Mario yelled, "I swear, I'll never hurt anyone again! Just let me go an' I'll go die on my own!"

"We can't do that!" Spearman yelled.

"He's almost there!" Hord said loudly.

Mario reached the forest and disappeared into the shadows of the trees. His four pursuers halted at the treeline. They knew better than to run through the forest at night. They stood in place peering into the inky blackness for over a minute. None of them needed words, they were all thinking the same thing. They were catching their breath and listening for the telltale scream of pain that would indicate Mario had stepped on a stick.

That scream never came.

*          *          *

The night passed as peacefully as I could have possibly hoped for and it was pleasantly warm to boot. The morning sun pierced through the tree limbs above me and woke me from my slumber. I sat up, aching all over from the dirt I laid on. I already missed the simple pleasure of sleeping on soft grass. I yawned and stretched out my arms.

My cabbage was not the greatest breakfast in the world, but it was filling. I reached into the brisk stream and removed the blanket. It dripped water out in every direction as I set it down on the leaves I had used as a pillow. I untied it and peered at the acorns inside. They were swollen with water but were almost pure white. I picked one up and popped it into my mouth. As I chewed, I noticed a very distinctive nutty flavor, not surprising, but the sweet flavor that followed it was quite nice. I ate exactly twenty then dumped the rest in with my cabbage. I drank as much water as I could stand then collected my walking stick and knife. I tied the wet blanket around my shoulder again and water dripped steadily down my left thigh. I squeezed my way back through the trees and continued tracking.

The tracks were easy to find and follow. The same types of thick trees and brush I had been dealing with for the entirety of my trek continued trying to impede my progress. My walking stick kept THEM from succeeding. My path continued gently downward and eventually leveled out early in the afternoon. The level ground was much more thickly forested and the dirt was tightly packed. Because of the packed dirt, the tracks were nearly impossible to follow. I was forced to slow down significantly in order to keep on the trail. The forest continued in that manner until early evening.

The trees thinned out gradually and the dirt softened as I proceeded onward. I came to a small field just as the sun was beginning its abnormally quick descent toward the horizon. The field was rich with flowers of all colors and sizes. It wasn't a particularly large field, maybe fifty feet by eighty feet or so, but the grass was tall and the flowers were beautiful. In all honesty, after the stress of losing so much time following the tracks over hard dirt, the field felt like a little piece of heaven.

I let out a pent up sigh and stepped out into the field and right onto a jaggedly sharp rock hidden in the grass. I had been so relieved to find grass to sleep on that I had completely forgotten to step carefully and it cost me. It cost me dearly.

My right foot came down with my full weight behind it. I felt the rock pierce the soft flesh of my foot as my weight continued down. I reflexively tried to shift my balance but my left foot stumbled and I ended up putting even more pressure on my right. The rock shredded through skin and muscle and I cried out loudly in pain.

Red hot agony spiked through my foot and I instantly overbalanced and fell over. I sat up holding my bleeding foot and proceeded to apply pressure to my ankle to slow the flow of blood as tears of pain streamed down my face. After a good four minutes of bleeding and getting more and more lightheaded I realized it wasn't going to stop on its own.

I frantically cast my eyes about searching for any yarrow. I spotted some close by off to my left, within arm's reach. I also realized I would have to let go of my ankle to pick the flowers and I feared that doing so would cause me to black out from blood loss. In desperation and with swimming vision I pitched over onto my left side and inched my way toward the yarrow plant.

I reached the plant, hands still wrapped around my ankle and bit the stem of the plant with my teeth. I bit down hard and ground my teeth together, trying to sever the stem. I bent my head and pulled at the plant. It didn't budge. I yanked a second time. Still nothing. I pulled a third time to no effect. Grinding my teeth in frustration, I tilted my head and yanked as hard as I could.

The plant ripped free finally. I rocked myself from side to side and managed to get to a sitting position. I opened my mouth and let the yarrow fall onto my lap. I shifted and twisted at my waist and the yarrow slid with the base, where I bit it on the ground and the flowering end propped up against my left thigh. I leaned over and opened my mouth as wide as I could then bit off as many of the white flowers as I could manage.

As I chewed on the flowers I carefully shifted my hands so that my left hand would be free to pack the spit poultice into my wound. My whole body was shaking from pain, blood loss, and the anticipation of the terrible agony that would come when I forced the chewed flower mush into my injured foot. I pulled my leg as close to my lap as I could and tried to get a good look at my injury. The rock had sliced open the flesh all the way from the base of my instep to the ball of my foot. I could clearly see muscles and tendons through the blood, pulp, dirt, grass, and flaps of flayed skin.

I finished chewing on the yarrow and carefully pulled my left hand away from my ankle. Thanks to my careful movement and foresight, the increase of blood flow was minimal. I quickly spit the yarrow mush into my left hand. I took a steadying breath and clenched my teeth then jammed the spit poultice into my wound. Agony beyond description flared through my damaged foot. My clenched teeth shot open and I emitted a loud, long scream. I screamed and screamed as I moved the mush around inside my injury. My vision blurred as tears welled up in my eyes. I could feel myself sweating and I felt dizzy and nauseous.

I pulled my hand away from my foot and gripped my ankle again waiting for the pain to stop. I rocked back and forth sobbing as the yarrow slowly went to work. By the time I could see straight again it was fully dark. The pain in my foot had eased off enough for me to form coherent thought.

I gingerly pulled my foot up and looked at the wound. The entire bottom of my foot was covered with drying blood, spit poultice, dirt, and strips of shredded flesh. It seemed likely that the yarrow I had applied would help but there was so much dirt that it was almost guaranteed to become infected quickly.

I untied the blanket and set the cabbage and acorns down in the grass. I took the obsidian knife and carefully cut an eight inch strip from it. The strip ran the entire length of the blanket and I figured it would be enough to wrap my foot in. I proceeded to wrap the impromptu bandage around my injured foot as tightly as I could manage. It hurt horribly, I was in tears by the time I was done. I finished by tying the ends of my makeshift bandage together right on the gash in my foot. Afterward, I was far too tired to continue on, so I decided to just sleep where I was.

I ate thirty acorns and almost half the cabbage I had left. I had no appetite to speak of but I knew my body needed time and food to replace the blood I had lost. I laid my walking stick down next to me and just slept with the blanket still tied around my shoulder.

The night passed far too quickly. I woke up and immediately wished I hadn't. My foot ached constantly and I could feel that it had swollen during the night. The bandage was stretched tightly over my foot and the entire thing looked lumpy and malformed. The gentle prodding of my left hand told me in no small, uncertain terms that my foot was extremely tender and that any sort of pressure on it would be agonizingly painful.

I pulled my cabbage out of the blanket and held it up for water. It was bone dry. I ate some of the cabbage and a few of the acorns. They were almost all dry too.

I dreaded the walk I had ahead of me that day, but I knew I had to do it, no matter how much it would hurt. I picked up my walking stick and gripped it tightly in my right hand. I planted one end on the ground to my right and pushed down on it to gain some leverage as I rose to my left knee.

I gritted my teeth and hauled myself upright using the walking stick for leverage. As soon as I stood up, blood began to circulate through my leg more freely. The nerve endings lit up my whole foot with white hot agony. I nearly fell over from the pain.

I couldn't put any significant amount of pressure on my foot, the pain had made me dizzy the first time I had tried it and I had no illusions about a different outcome if I tried a second time. Balancing carefully, I reached down and put the cabbage and acorns in the blanket then tied it around my shoulder again. I set out, hobbling along, following the tracks as best I could given my state.

The forest, which was still thick outside the small clearing, had been an annoyance at worst before. Suddenly every branch in my way, every bramble to be circumvented, every slight dip in the path was a nearly insurmountable obstacle. My progress was abysmally slow and I was constantly distracted by the jolts of pain from my injury which flared up with each clumsy step. Throughout the course of a day of agony, I ended up losing the trail several times due to my near perpetual state of distraction. My mind constantly wandered as random thoughts popped into my head, 'How good it will feel to lay in a bed again.' 'I'm going to eat the biggest peach cobbler in the world.' 'How wonderful it felt to lay in a nice hot bath for an hour, just soaking in the heat.' my brain kept jumping from one subject to another at random. I could hardly remember anything as I walked, I'm certain I covered several topics multiple times during the course of my self narrative. I noticed around noon that I was beginning to feel chilled.

I recognized the oncoming infection quickly but there was nothing more I could do to combat it. Midday came and went with me leaning against a blurry tree, nibbling on my cabbage. As the day wore on and on I became more and more thirsty I had not stumbled onto another stream and with the oncoming infection, I was feeling it.

By evening I was extremely thirsty, hell I think I might have been delirious. I decided to stop for the night and sat propped up against a tree that I only remember as 'smooth'. I couldn't remember the latter half of the day and I belatedly realized that I had no idea where I had last seen the trail. I sat in place, for how long I don't know, and bemoaned my distraction. Hours later I fell asleep with the same thought playing over and over in my head, 'I'm lost.'

I woke up at some point the next day. I don't remember when. I don't remember much about the whole day. I remember that my foot was horribly swollen. I remember it hurt all day. I remember walking for hours. I remember bumping into trees and scratching my face and chest on branches. I remember my burning thirst. I don't remember eating anything and I don't remember feeling hungry. I don't remember what direction I went because I kept forgetting to look at the sun. I remember falling over at some point when it was dark, though I don't recall why I was still walking.

At some point in the afternoon of what I could only guess was the following day, I awoke feeling queasy and dehydrated. I forced myself to finish off the cabbage for liquid since I wasn't near any fresh water sources. The acorns had mostly dried out and the cabbage had very little water left in it. It didn't help much but it was better than nothing. My head pounded like a drum, but at least I could gain some moments of lucid clarity, fleeting as they were. That morning my cabbage and acorns ran out. It was an agonizing and exhausting process to haul myself up to a standing position, but I persevered. 

My perseverance was not without cost though. As I rose to a standing position I put pressure on my injured foot by mistake. It was alarming even in my delusional state that there was almost no pain accompanying the action. I knew it was a bad thing that my foot didn't hurt but I didn't remember why. My progress that day was pitiful. I could feel that I was sweating and not from exertion. My mind began to wander more and more as the day wore on and I lapsed into a routine of limping while lost in thought. I had no real concept of time. I was just making as much progress as I could with as little jarring as possible. The forest was an ever changing blur of colors as my bleary eyes refused to focus on anything specific. All my mind knew was, 'Step, step, step, step, step... '

My good foot suddenly being submerged in icy cold water brought me part way out of my stupor. It took several moments to register the word 'water' in my brain. For some reason, it seemed like a good idea to just collapse where I was standing, and I did so. I passively felt rocks dig into my hip and ribs, their blunt forms were sure to leave colorful bruises decorating my naked body. I remember thinking it was strange that I couldn't see anything around me. My mind cleared briefly and I looked around in surprise, 'When did the sun go down?'

Wobbled onto my hands and knees then sat down on the bank of the stream I had wandered into. Finding my muscles incapable of supporting my weight suddenly, I laid down on my left side to keep pressure off my right leg and dunked my head into the stream. I drank in huge gulps, as much water as I could stand. I came up for a breath then submerged my head once more. That process I repeated until I couldn't bear to drink anymore, then I laid back on the bank and fell into a dark, dreamless sleep.

I slowly returned to consciousness in daylight and felt slightly better than I had the day before. My head was more clear but I felt more lethargic and weak than I had before. I cast my gaze to the sky and noticed that it was still only mid morning. The realization reinvigorated me and I dunked my head into the stream again. I drank until I felt ready to burst then struggled to my foot and precariously crossed the stream. I pondered belatedly, why rising to an upright position was not as much of an ordeal as it had been before. It dawned on me that my foot wasn't hurting the way it had been before. That realization worried me greatly, but I dared not stop and look at it, 'The sooner I find help, the sooner I get helped.'

I looked around, once on the far side of the stream and realized I must have lost my path sometime during the previous days. The trees around me were much, much more sparse than they had been. The ground was nearly bare of leaves, soft dirt cushioned my foot as I hobbled forward, whichever direction forward was at that moment. I looked around and realized almost all the trees were birch and paper. The foliage overhead was nowhere near as thick as it had been before, but I couldn't tell just yet which direction was which. I was walking onward because the forest was so beautiful. The dust I stirred up floated in the air and on the invisible currents of a slight breeze. Sunlight filtering through the canopy above me caught the dust and bright motes shone out like fireflies. It was so beautiful and peaceful. Even with all the time I had spent in my ever-busy life doing various random things, I had never seen anything like it. The tranquility and simplicity of that place was enchanting, no other word would suffice. I stood in place for a long time and simply looked at the world around me. In that moment, I felt like I was in paradise.

My mind returned to itself eventually as my stomach made a common demand that I could not deny. I continued looking around as I hobbled onward searching for something to eat. An out of place series of burnt logs caught my attention and I made my way over to them. It was easy to tell that I was seeing an old fire pit. I lowered my left hand to the logs; they were still slightly warm.

A sudden sound snapped my attention back up, 'That sounded like children laughing.'

"Hello?" I called out, "Is anyone there?"

The laughing stopped instantly, "Emooli?" a little girl's voice answered back.

"If you can hear me, I need help." I called back.

I heard the sound of steps coming toward me, so I sat down against a nearby tree, 'Maybe I'll look less intimidating this way.'

I didn't have long to wait. Within a few moments a tiny gray equinoid with a pink, curly mane and tail came into view not thirty feet from me. A second one followed a few seconds later. The second one was mustard yellow and her mane and tail were dark brown.

They stopped and stared at me, "Lamine! Lamane! Ostarn visi!" it called over its shoulder.

I took the chance to examine them more closely. The first one had what appeared to be a little horn on its head, 'Correction, her head. Those voices sounded like little girls.' I shook my head to clear my thoughts as much as possible, 'I can't say that for certain. Maybe they all sound like that. Oh hell, I'll just call them female until I discover otherwise. Come on Dan, this is probably your best chance to plead your case. Get your head in the game.' I continued watching the two eighteen inch tall equinoids and set my mind in motion, 'Those first two words sounded very similar. I'd guess maybe the titles of both sexes of parents and those last two words, if I had to guess, probably mean something like, 'come look' or 'come see' or 'come quick' or something along those lines. The two little ones look young so I'll just think of them as 'foals'. I should probably pay attention to which adult they go to. That one is most likely to be the dominant or protective parent or at least the more authoritative one.'

I heard more approaching steps. I waited patiently for them to appear.

Two unicorns stepped into view, 'Crud, I'm not a virgin.'

I swallowed hard and carried on, 'Hmm these two look decidedly different. They both have horns but... ' and suddenly what I was seeing clicked, 'Both sexes! By god these equinoids are sexually dimorphous! The one on the left must be male. He's a few inches taller than the other one and every one of his features is more angled, hell he's practically chiseled. The other one is shorter and definitely has more rounded features and... is that unicorn wearing eyeliner?'

The male was gray and his mane and tail were dark brown while the female was bright yellow with a pink mane and tail. I could see what looked like tattoos emblazoned on their butts but I couldn't make them out clearly.

My internal documentary was cut short when the first foal I saw, 'I'll just call her Foal One until I get a name.' when Foal One scampered up to the... , 'I'm just going to use equinoid terms.' to the mare.

"Lamine! Lamine! Visi! Hetlar uldun vost?


I took an educated guess, 'Mother/Dam! Mother/Dam! Look/see/observe! What/who is that/this?' Foal Two seemed too engrossed in me to pay attention to the other equinoids.

The mare suddenly spoke as she pushed Foal One under her torso, "Vestu," she seemed to be addressing the stallion, "Entala nuvia pestop ivt visi hetlar hundirar fridath oom."


I caught one word 'visi' which I was fairly certain, by that point, meant 'look/see', it was pronounced 'vees-eye'. I'll admit it surprised me greatly to see the two adults acting so calmly. Most human parents would have been pitching a fit were they in a similar situation.

Meanwhile Foal Two was apparently feeling bold. My eyes lowered to her while she took one tentative step toward me, then another. My eyes flickered back up to the two adults, 'Now there's a more normal reaction.' I thought. The eyes of the two adults had widened significantly and the stallion's head was lowered aggressively.

Foal Two came closer but my eyes stayed glued to the stallion in particular. I felt a sharp pain in my leg and flinched violently, accidentally kneeing Foal Two in the chin, 'When did she get that close?' I looked down toward her.

She backed away from me whimpering as she spit and grimaced as if she had tasted something disgusting. I looked at my leg and saw a red mark in the shape of teeth, 'She bit me?'

A noise drew my attention back up and I instantly froze. The stallion's face was a hair's breadth from my own and he did not look happy. He made and held eye contact with me, 'A test of dominance? Well I'm in their world, in their woods, and I'm certain at least one of the foals are his considering the similar coloration. If I'm going to beg for help I can't do that from a dominant position.' I lowered my eyes from his and looked down.

The stallion withdrew several steps from me, suddenly all smiles, 'What the fuck?' It took me a moment to notice that the mare and two foals were smiling pleasantly as well, 'Don't tell me part of their language is body signals and actions.' I groaned inwardly.

Though still slightly wary, the mare slowly approached me, Foal One staying under her torso, 'Ah, close to Mother's teats. It's a position of security, comfort, and familiarity. That makes sense.' My muscles tensed as she came up next to my injured foot and sniffed the blanket bandage. She reeled back and shook her head from side to side, snorting loudly.

She stopped after a few moments and looked back at me, then walked along my right side until she was only about two feet from my face, "Emooli, int helunti oom Insabre Tunti. Hetlinar evanine?" She held up her right hoof toward me, like someone offering a hand shake.

'O.K. brain, not only do we have complex and sophisticated words formed by an equinoid mouth but also the possibility of body language. Her ears are erect and forward facing, that probably means she's wary or at least alert. Her neck is almost a perfect 90° angle from her body and her nostrils are flared. She's definitely alert and maybe looking for scent cues as well? Her stance is off balance and she's holding out her leg as if to shake. No equine's joints should be able to rotate like that. Back on track. A few of her words are familiar. The first equinoid I met used that one 'emooli' word too. I'm sure that it's a greeting of some kind like 'hello'. Hmm, I wonder if she was perhaps trying to introduce herself. The second sentence was, I'm fairly sure, a question. Could she have been asking my name? Only one way to find out.'

I moved slowly, reaching out my right hand. I grasped the end of her hoof like a doorknob but felt something odd. I looked down and nearly lost my mind. It was a struggle not to yank my hand back. Instead of hard, mobile fingernail-like hoof, my fingers sunk in and were held fast by a clay-like substance. It was soft and malleable at first then hardened into what I expected a hoof to feel like. It didn't hurt whatsoever but my fingers were held solidly in place. She shook my hand twice then let go.

Swallowing my utter confusion, I went with my gut and pointed to myself, "Daniel Pering." taking a wild stab in the dark I pointed at her and said, "Insabre Tunti?"

She smiled and nodded, "Heef."

There was little doubt that 'heef' meant right/yes/affirmative/correct/accurate.

She pointed to the stallion and said, "Vestu." then pointed to herself, "Insabre," she pointed back to the stallion, "Vestu."

I imitated her by pointing to the stallion and saying, "Vestu," then I pointed to her and said, "Insabre."

They both nodded, 'Progress!'

I gestured to my whole body and said, "Human." I then gestured to Insabre and Vestu.

Insabre's eyes brightened in understanding after only a brief moment. Vestu and the foals looked puzzled.

She gestured at me with her hoof and said, "Danyel Puring, Humon." she then gestured to herself and said, "Imsabre Tunti, Kavim."

At first I thought she had said 'cave in'. I slowly pronounced the word several times, rolling it around on my tongue. It was strange but then again, they probably thought the same thing, 'Now's my chance. Time to get to the reason I came all the way here.'

I reached my right hand out and swept away the leaves next to me then pulled out my obsidian knife and began to draw in the dirt. Insabre , Vestu, and the foals cautiously came over and watched me draw. First off I'm a terrible artist. I used stick figures to draw the four Kavim. Two little ones to represent the foals and two larger ones to represent Insabre and Vestu, then one more to represent me. I pointed to each and pronounced names and species, as many as I knew anyway. They seemed to understand easily enough. I then drew basic houses, hoping they knew what those were, then I drew a lot of Kavim. I had them carrying things, working hard, and eating.

I moved to another section of dirt and drew the mountain and several dozen humanoid stick figures. To continue the message I drew rain over the humans, then snow, then wild animals eating us. After that I drew two more human figures, one fat like me, and one thin. I also drew my best rendition of food items like apples, tomatoes, carrots, and potatoes. I crossed out the food items then drew a human figure lying on the ground with 'Xs' over its eyes, bugs flying around, and its tongue hanging out.

They were all contemplatively quiet for several long minutes before Vestu's eyes lit up and he began quickly, almost frantically chattering with Insabre.

I could tell the exact moment Insabre understood. In a perfect mimicry of human actions, her eyes widened, she gasped, and put her right hoof over her mouth. I waved my hands and snagged their attention again. I drew an arrow from the humans at the mountain to the Kavim village. I wiped out the Kavim and instead put humans and Kavim working and eating together.

Insabre and Vestu seemed to get the idea almost immediately but they quickly dissolved into some sort of debate. They weren't arguing per se but their voices were strained. Insabre gestured to the drawing emphatically with a pleading tone while Vestu gestured to me then off in a Southern direction with concern in his voice. I couldn't follow anything they were saying, it all sounded like 'baca baca baca baca' to me.

Seeing they weren't going to be able to make any progress any time soon, I turned my attention toward the foals. Foal Two was trying to talk to Insabre and Vestu while she gestured to Foal One. The adults ignored her completely.

Foal One, on the other hand, had taken up a standing position between my legs and had her eyes closed and her head lowered in the direction of my face.

Something about the situation felt off to me, "Uh guys?"

The two adults ignored me.

The gray and pink foal's little horn sparked briefly before going out again.

I had a bad feeling all of the sudden, "Guys?" I said a bit louder.

The air felt charged, like electrical static was building up all around.

The foal's horn lit up in a pink aura.

'What the fuck!' I thought, 'This is bad! This is very bad!' "Insabre! Vestu!" I bellowed.

The two unicorns fell silent. I could see them turn in my direction out of the corner of my eye. My focus was the foal in front of me.

Horn still lit, she lunged forward. I felt her tiny, glowing horn hit my forehead.

My mind instantly exploded with images. Every memory, every thought, every emotion; they all flashed through before my eyes and through my head violently, like the uncontrolled gale force winds of a hurricane. I felt terrible pressure build up behind my skull and it was growing quickly. Everything in my head was pure chaos. I felt nauseous and dizzy. Pressure began building up within my ears, making them ring loudly.

The pain was beyond description.

I cried out and pushed outward with my arms. I was only vaguely aware of feeling the foal's body against my hands. I pushed against her as hard as I could but she didn't budge. I heard yelling all around me, but I couldn't make out any of it. I strained against her with all my might but she stayed put like a thousand pound granite statue.

"Vestu xae!" Insabre's voice broke through my mental haze.

The pressure inside my brain evaporated with an intense jolt to the side of my head, which was accompanied by a sickening, juicy crunch.

My mind felt like it was floating away and I could hear a sound similar to ocean waves. My body felt weightless briefly before I hit a solid object which knocked the wind out of me.

The last thing I heard was Insabre and Foal One screaming.