I had entered my room on tired, light feet the other day. Of course I closed the door to my room, before I walked up to the wardrobe. Pulling my skirt down and dropping it into the wash bin, where-after I had pulled my top up over my head and left it on top of the skirt. Now I slip my panties of the day down and drop it among the dirty clothes.
I had pulled a pair of fresh white panties out of the wardrobe, once I had opened the doors. While I thought I had picked a pair of white cotton panties, I guess I made the mistake of picking the silicon white rubber panties this time. Not that it would have made any difference, if not for what came next. Sleeping in rubber garments is really problem. Why should it?
Once I had changed for the night, I had closed the door to my wardrobe and turned my back on it. The day is at an end, and I step over to my bed. As I reached the bed, I had folded the quilt aside all the way to the far wall and slipped in under the quilt before I folded the quilt back over myself.
I had covered myself with the quilt and laid my head to rest on my pillow, before I closed my eyes. As I closed my eyes, I was stepping into the world of dreams as I slipped away and fell asleep.
I have a strange feeling, and feel slightly confused. As I wake up, it is a sensation of disconnect and limbs not what they should be. I just can’t put a hoof to what is wrong, or what it should have been like.
The sun of Celestias is peaking in through the gaps in the blinders of my window. As the light is building up, I am rousing from the slumber of last night. Everything is as it should. Isn’t it?
As a Pony, I am nude. While I may have been wearing a pair of rubber panties as I went to bed, now I am nude. Stark, raving nude.
I have the body of a Pony, and the mind that goes with it. What had been to be expected? I still do have all my memories, but I do not dwell upon these now. As I wake up, I explore the senses as they are now. I feel the skin and the body I had so graciously been given.
As I open my amethyst eyes, I see my rubbery hooves at the end of my lusciously green forelegs in place of what had been my arms. My bed is surprisingly familiar to me.
The floor is a rich; dark, earthy hue. As I set my hooves down on the floor, I guess I was less than surprised to learn that it is how it feels too.
The walls are a leafy green, and feels almost like it, if and when I put a hoof to the surface of the structure wallpaper. At least, it is what I think it is. On the other rubbery hoof; who am I to say, what it is? I am new here, and I know little to nothing of these things in the first place. Even before I came to this place. My new home.
For a moment, I had worried about how to open the door to the room. I have a solid beech wood window door to my bed room. At least, it is what I think they are called.
I have a cherry wood bed-stand to the right of the bed, at the height of my pillow. It is crafted out of solid wood. I currently have nothing on it, since I have not had the time to decorate the room and make it my own.
There are two double doors to the wardrobe at the other end of the bed, or is it refereed to as the hoof side of the bed here as I am a Pony? I certainly couldn’t call it the foot side now. I know I would get strange looks of confused Ponies. What’s the point, or fun in that?
The final detail in the room, is the light switch by the door.
Trotting out of the bed room in the nude feels perfectly fine and normal to me, as the Pony I am now. Who would have guessed? Not that I bother considering, it’s a none issue to me as it is. Not that I would have anything that could possibly be fitting me, right now.
All my old clothes are bound to be in my old home. Why do I even want to try them on; assuming they had actually followed me here and adjusted for a Pony to wear them? I am a new person, due to the changes in my situation; not to mention the transformation as such. Maybe I should see if there is any Pony around, willing and capable of crafting me new clothes, so I have something to wear and fill my new wardrobe with. Later.
I am starved, famished. The expression coming to mine is; I could eat a Horse. Yet, that feels strangely inappropriate to me, as it turns out. While I am not sure which interpretation of the expression to go with. I am a Pony, which I was taught was basically just a small horse. I can’t eat meat, so that end of the stick is out the window for me anyway. As a Mare, I am not sure I am interested in the other end, either.
My bed room is on the second floor, or a flight of stairs up. Which ever you are finding more appropriate. Taking the stairs down to the living room did not prove my bane, or even a challenge to be frightened by.
“Clip, clop! Clip, clop!” is heard from my hooves as I trotted down, carefully.
“Ooh!” I exhaled, “I make it, and without a single scratch!” I then added, as I had collected myself after the challenge of negotiating the flight of stairs.
As I look back, I notice the stairs being crafted out of cherry wood. Pink cherry wood, to be precise. The floor in the living room is exactly the same as it was and still is up stairs in my bed room. I figured they had made the floor the same in every room. Maybe I shouldn’t complain, it is a good grip for my hooves so I don’t trip or slip.
By the same token, the walls have a leafy green motif in each and every room. Just different hue and pattern.
I have a sofa with a table before it in the living room. There is a luscious green grassy carpet under the table and the sofa as well.
I currently ignore the rest, as I trotted into the kitchen. Looking around, opening every single door and pulling out every little drawer. Nothing edible is to be seen. I guess that is just as good, considering how long the building may have been here. The food would not be fresh now, had they left it for me, as they left the building.
I find a single card on the dinner table.
“The Sugar-cube Corner!” it reads.
There is a map of the village on the back. I even find a dotted line, from my home to the building of the cafe.
I had just stepped out of the kitchen and trotted into the hall, exploring what I had.
Aside from the white saddle bag, I have literally nothing. I guess I will have to tend to this problem, too; after breakfast, that is. Maybe I could ask around, for where to go, and whom to ask?
Strangely, I found a small side pocket for holding the cards. While I was considering it, there is a second card, directing me to what I had just been considering. The name of the Pony is; Rarity. She lives at the Carousel Boutique, according to the new card I had just found. Naturally, there is a map on the back of my card, lining out where it is and how to find this, Rarity. Who ever she may be.
Thankfully, I had found a stash of the local currency; bits, in my right main pocket of the saddle bag. At least, I should be able to pay for myself, at the very least for a short while.
With the immediate issues out of the way, I stepped over to the door and opened it. Now I step out and close the door. Apparently, I did not need to lock the door after myself. Curious and unsettling to me. Yet, I had to go; with that I left my home and trotted out towards the town of Ponyville, where I had found myself.