I find myself staring, open-mouthed, at the charming village of Ponyville before me... until I start to fall over again, wavering, and stumbling, then hissing in pain when my exhausted muscles have to overcompensate to keep me standing. When I do stumble forward blindly through the field, I feel like I’m going to fall forward again, just soar right into the village, as gravity itself turns on its side. I move my hooves methodically, with a growing determination and a tremendous hope welling up in me. Things are going to be... okay? I’m not going to die?
I...
I start to pass by the cottages, and I’m there. I’m here. I’m walking through a village I could only dream of before. Ponyville is all around me, so different yet to familiar, like the static backdrops of the show, but with everything moving around me from all angles, as genuine hooves propel me along. Walking through a paradise I could have never hoped would ever be real. My hooves, m-my hooves clop on the pathway between buildings, and they no longer sink into the packed snow, because I’m not lost in an empty wood. The smell of chocolate brownies wafts past me, and I... I don’t...
It’s just all so overwhelming. I’ve never felt this much before! I have to choke back a sob, leaning or falling against the side of a building. And then I see it. If there’s any doubt where I am, it ends when I fall to my haunches at the sight of the statue. It’s facing the other way, but I can tell exactly what it is. There’s a frozen fountain of pink pumice, and on a dias in the center rears a pony with a saddle carved into her back. I know that statue. This is Ponyville!
This can’t possibly be reality. No reality would be as kind as this. This couldn’t possibly have been an accident. Am I... in a story? Oh, I hope I’m in a story. Reality was the worst possible thing I could imagine: a universe with no story, no serendipity, no author watching over it, only cruel, uncaring random physics, rules that make it easier to be dead than alive. But here, in front of a fountain that has never been drawn from behind, those rules have been... violated. It should be a logical contradiction for something this good to happen to me. That means I’m in a story! That means I’m safe!
I walk up to the fountain on... on hooves. I just stand up, and it feels like I’m floating, but the soft clip-clops resonate up my pony legs. The statue pony’s familiar smile greets me when I walk around the base in awe. The fountain is not flowing, but there is a veneer of ice on the bottom. In that icy sheet, I see the vague reflection of... a pony. I still can’t see myself very clearly. I’m just a wobbly blur of pink and dirty white, but it’s thrilling to see myself like that. I’m making a shadow over the fountain’s bowl that no human could make. I can’t believe this is real.
Oh... oh I hope I’m in a story so much. A really, real, for-real story, for real. There’s nothing I could wish for more. I would suffer lost in the snow for a thousand days, if I knew that someone was watching over me, and everything would work out alright in the end. Are the main 6 here? Am I going to meet them? And of course, I’ll get to befriend them all, as Twilight Sparkle herself works very hard to find a way for me to—oh no.
Oh no, oh no. If I am in a story, then I know how it ends. These stories always have the protagonist trying to... to return home. They have family, or a career, or something waiting for them back there, and I’m no exception. Except that my worst nightmare is waiting for me back there! I-if I meet the main 6, it’ll be the beginning of the end, and in the end, the status quo is restored. I awaken from my dream, better for the experience, human, and male, as if Equestria were never real at all. All I’ve ever wanted was to be in a story, but I don’t want to be Dorothy! I don’t want to—
“Scuze me miss, are you alright?” I hear a warm voiced mare say, just behind me. I squeak in alarm from where I still perch by my forelegs on the edge of the fountain, stare fearfully behind me and... it’s a pony. Not one of the main 6. Thick purple curls fall over her pink furred shoulders. “Seriously, are you okay?” the mare asks me, looking uncomfortable at my open mouthed stare. “You look exhausted!”
“I’m just...” I say in a voice that is not my own, and I’m so thirsty, it’s all... scratchy. “I’m kind of new to Ponyville,” I finally manage to rasp out, sounding (appropriately) like an exhausted girl, “I’ve been walking for a long time to get here...”
“Walking? How long?” she asks concernedly, taking half a step back as I push away from the fountain and stagger to my hooves again, managing to stand before her. “You didn’t get caught in that snowstorm the day before last?”
“I... yeah and also kind of... new at walking,” I tell her, wondering if I can just collapse and she’ll take me home, and nurse me back to health with hot soup. It’s really weird seeing a pony looking at me evenly, eye to eye. I really am as tall as her, because we’re both... ponies.
“You need to get to town hall right away!” the mare tells me, looking leery at even touching me. “They’ll be able to set you right up.”
“O-oh, thanks?” I tell her uncertainly, “Where is um... town hall?”
“That way, till you get to Hayfield square and then turn right,” the mare says pointing a hoof.
“Thank you um...” I say uncertainly.
“Lilac,” she says, “And who’re you?”
I freeze, staring at the mare in horror. I still have a male name. A really male name. How could I possibly use it now? “I uh... I’ll catch you... later, Lilac,” I say unsteadily, stumbling forward on exhausted but frightened hooves, at which point she glares at me angrily and walks away with her nose up in the air.
Now that I look at it, a lot of ponies are looking at me out of the sides of their faces. I must be a sight. I can barely walk, and I’m utterly exhausted. I’ve fallen down so much, my coat is streaked with crusty dirt and there are dead twigs hopelessly tangled in my mane and tail. I’ve never walked so much in my life. My new body’s never walked at all. I’m thirsty, and cold, and...
I just turn right at the first square I reach, hoping that’s the one she spoke of.
It must have been Hayfield Square though, because the street opens up into a large expanse, bordered by a trickling creek covered in soft pink bridges. The center of this expanse is dominated by a huge building. You never really understand how big Ponyville’s town hall is until you see it with your own eyes. Or... your new pony eyes, I guess. The doors into it tower over me, easily big enough to admit a medium sized dragon, never mind a little pony. The second floor balcony has soaring columns all the way up to the roof that... it’s a really intimidating building, that’s all.
I squeeze my way inside, and immediately regret my decision. There are so many ponies going about their business. I–I don’t even know where to start. It’s really hot in here, like uncomfortably so. The ponies are all talking with each other and busy and I’m a dissheveled wreck in the entryway, just waiting for them to notice a... a bum wandered in. There are booths that some ponies are lining up in front of, with signs indicating what each is intended for, I assume. I have to assume, because... I can’t read.
I stare with dawning horror at the signs of elegant calligraphy that are just... gibberish. Scribbles! Scribberish! None of the writing I realize, on the walls or doors, or anywhere makes any amount of sense. “I can’t read?” I say in a small voice.
“Excuse me miss, can we help you?” A greyish green stallion with elegantly coiffed brown hair is trotting up to me. A stallion. Oh help he’s taller than me.
“I–I–I’ll be right back,” I whisper faintly in response, falling down, and then... stumbling my way through the crowd to the tunes of “Hey, watch it!” and “Get off the salt, you lush!”
It’s only once I’m outside, and... down an alleyway that I’m safe again. I didn’t even think... I didn’t think about what it’d be like facing a stallion like this. I mean I did, but that was when it was just a fantasy... and I can’t read! Am I going to have to learn a new alphabet? A whole new language? What am I speaking, then? What was he speaking? It’s just Equish, right? Why isn’t it the Equish alphabet then?!
Why are there such horribly amazing smells in the air? I don’t have any money. I don’t have anything. I’m just a... just a homeless bum who stumbled into town half drunk one day. That’s why everypony’s looking at me funny. Is there a... a homeless shelter, in Ponyville? How could there possibly be something like that, in such a paradise as this? I can smell soup and it’s coming from inside somepony’s house, I think. Or is it a restaurant? There are signs telling me, but I can’t read them. For instance, I can’t tell if that—oh wait, yeah that store is definitely Quills and Sofas. But the others? I just want some soup!
I don’t know when I start crying. I just... stumble along on unfamiliar hooves, and more wasted water starts running down my cheeks. I’m so tired, and I can’t read, and... I don’t know what to do. Do I ask somepony? I’m afraid to even speak out loud! They’ll... they’ll think I’m a beggar because I am. Because I don’t belong here, and I’m just gonna get sent away. They’ll never let me live here. I can’t go back! Not after finally, impossibly being a mare! Not after being here in Ponyville, in a story. I can’t live without this! I feel horrible, and cold and hungry as I sink to my belly, leaning heavily against the wall again, and I’ve never felt so alive before. I can’t give up hope like this! I–I’m not ready to leave. What am I going to do? I don’t want to die, but... but I need to stay here!
I... crawl to my hooves again. It feels like everypony is watching me, judging me, seeing a human man, not a cold, hungry mare. I–I don’t want to be that, not ever again. I have to find something... some way to show these ponies I’m a good pony. I just want some soup. How would I even drink soup?
I shuffle down the road with no destination in mind, just... safety somewhere. I’ll just... just knock on a random door and... and they’ll help me instead of close it in my face, because this is Equestria, and that’s how things work here, right? It has to be. This village is too beautiful to be cursed with realism!
“Hello there!” comes a bright, quirky voice behind me. A voice I would recognize anywhere. I clumsily turn and then stare, open mouthed at Princess Twilight Sparkle, a bright lilac unicorn with a deep blue mane striped in pink and purple, and soft lilac wings added to her sides. She’s here she’s—no, no she’s... she’s not here to send me home, yet. I still have time. I still haven’t met her... her friends yet.
“Sorry to bother you,” Twilight says with a half smile beneath her beautifully violet eyes. “But you seem to be new to town, is that correct?”
I can’t believe I’m looking at Twilight Sparkle. She’s even more beautiful in person than I imagined. Glowing with health, bearing a friendly smile her coat a resplendant lilac, and her mane a deep indigo blue. A pink and white striped scarf that looks deliciously warm wraps several times around her thick neck, then drapes over her barrel behind her.
“It’s really you...” the words escape me beyond any rational thought. “Twilight Sparkle...”
Then I start to panic, because fancy crap, why did I say that? There’s no way a normal pony would just know somepony, for no reason at all!
Lifting her hoof to her chest, Twilight modestly says, “Oh, you’ve heard of me, huh?”
Wait... isn’t she upset that I know her name?
“I am pretty well known, it’s true,” Twilight says teasingly, swaying on the tips of her hooves like she thinks it’s cute. (It is.) “But don’t let that fool you. I’m just a pony like you.”
Then she... she fluffs her wings ohmygosh she actually did that! “Maybe with a few extra additions, heh heh,” she says.
I remain speechless, and her smile grows uncomfortable. “I’m not here for any particular reason,” she says quickly, “Just doing some shopping, you know. But I thought you should know that it’s something of a Ponyville tradition that ponies who move here get a pretty big welcome celebration...” Oh no.
“Pinkie Pie,” I say flatly. Can’t escape that, certainly. And here’s Twilight just walking up and telling me about it. It seems that like it or not, my introduction to Ponyville is finally going to begin.
“I suppose you’ve heard of my friends, too,” Twilight says a little crossly. Did I upset her? I really don’t want to rock the boat right now. I can’t believe Twilight’s here!
“I found Pinkie a little overwhelming,” Twilight says, while I try to think of what to say to this star on earth, “And you looked like you could use some advance warning.”
“I... yeah,” I say, trying to think what say, what to do. If I leave Ponyville, will that put off Pinkie’s welcome party? Where would I go, though? I’m falling over on my feet! I’m talking to... to a pony who could help me. I need something to eat so bad. I just don’t want to start something that railroads my story down to its unfortunate end. I—I should just ask somepony else. But they could say no, while Twilight’s pretty much thematically obliged to help me.
“I guess I’ll... leave you alone now?” Twilight says, tilting her head uncertainly at me. It looks like her patience is wearing thin.
“But...” I say despite myself. It’s okay, just let her go. I can do this all by myself. I don’t need her help, if it gets me sent home in the end. “That would be fine,” I say, forcing a smile, “And um... thank you.”
Why did I thank her? She just looks confused. Shit, what do I say? “For...” I wrack my brain, “Being such a nice princess! P-pony. I mean. T-thanks.”
Twilight smiles at me, saying, “My pleasure. Now I really do have to be going, so you take care, miss...?”
“Um,” I say intelligently, brain stopping once again as I realize that I still have no pony name.
“Miss Um?” Twilight asked hopefully.
Shaking my head in disgust, I say, “No, um... it’s... I’m sorry I...” Nothing is coming to mind. Why can’t I think of a pony name?
Twilight says, “Quite alright,” then waits for me to answer. I just... can’t. What if I forget it, and use the wrong name? Her look becomes strained at my tense silence, and she says “Aaanyway, ta ta.”
Twilight Sparkle trots away then, and once again I’m safely dying of exposure. Crap.
“E-excuse me,” I desperately ask just... just a random pony with a... pet carrier in her mouth and somewhat familiar looking colors of yellow fur, blue and white mane. “Do you know where I could get s-something to eat, and maybe a... a blanket?”
The lanky mare transfers her carrier’s handle enviably easily to an upraised forehoof, saying in a fruity voice, “Well gosh, find a shelter I suppose? I don’t really know where you’d find one in Ponyville though. If you want I could get you a...” She looks to my side then, and her warm, brown eyes widen. “Oh wow,” she says, “Looks like the princess wants to have something to do with you. Ask her to help you. She’s the most helpful pony anywhere!”
Glancing in the direction she’s looking, I see Twilight Sparkle once again approaching. No! I was so close.... Turning back forward, it’s too late. The pet carrier pony is already gone, trotting away and leaving me to my fate. This story is just going to make me starve to death, if I don’t get help from Twilight, isn’t it? I try to walk away from Twilight, as if she’s not making a beeline for me, but she startles me to a halt again, saying,
“Excuse me miss.”
Oh, that’s right... I’m a “miss” now! I can’t even feel my toes at this point, much less my marehood. Can ponies get frostbitten? I might literally be dead, in that case. Or at least parts of me.
Twilight says to my sorry self, “Sorry to bother you again, but can I ask where you moved from?”
Well... maybe I can just tell her enough to get some food? Oh, I want something to eat so bad. It’s hard to think! “I don’t know if I should say,” I admit honestly. What should I say? My stomach wants to growl but I’m just so tired... I–I can’t put this off. “I guess it’s...” I tell her hesitantly, “I mean I don’t really have any other choice. I...”
My raspy voice drops to a girly whisper of a whine as I admit, “I’m so hungry.” Worriedly, I add, “Um, sorry, I mean...” I have to tell her. It’s the only way.
I look at her as squarely as I can, and tell Twilight Sparkle, “I’m from a place called Earth.”
“Um...” Twilight says, appraising my serious snout warily, “Yes, you are? Most ponies call it Equestria. But I meant what township are you from?”
Oh. Uh. Right we’re standing on earth. Literally. “No, I mean, I’m from a different universe,” I emphasize urgently.
“You know there’s only one universe, right?” Twilight drawls searching my pony face for answers.
I guess she wouldn’t know, then. “Right, but-but if there was a portal into another one—” I start to explain.
“Then they would both be part of the same universe, just not connected with each other by way of conventional spacetime,” Twilight finished with that cocky smile of hers.
I guess she would know, then. Wow. She’s... definitely Twilight Sparkle.
“Specifically, such a portal would connect two distinct units within the universe, like worlds or lands, or there’s a properly abstract term that doesn’t imply solid bodies that I like to use,” Twilight goes on and oh my stars who cares? I just want to eat already! “Called verses,” Twilight finishes smugly, “As in many verses that form the universe.”
“Fine,” I say with a frustrated huff that sounds like a horse, “I’m from a different verse.”
“No you’re not,” Twilight chirps, actually looking at me this time with a surprised laugh, “Nopony’s ever come from another verse before. Is this some kind of joke?”
“No, I came out of a portal in the middle of the woods,” I tell Twilight seriously, “There was nothing but woods around me. I didn’t know where to go, or if there was anything at all—” Oh fuck my throat is giving out. It burns so much to cough like this. I don’t have the strength to cough like this. I need medical attention, stat!
“S-so I went in circles, until I found a river,” I hiss out stubbornly, rocking on my feet as I try to stay standing before the princess, “And... well, I sort of couldn’t find any, and I was getting hungry I just... I made it to Ponyville, but it took d... days, and I’m really not sure who I ask, to g-get something to eat and I’m... really tired...”
I jerk back to consciousness, finding myself sandwiched in between the princess, and a bright pink pony with a really big butt, and a bright magenta mane. “Pinkie...?” I say disorientedly.
“Don’t talk,” she says quietly to me in her squirrelly little voice, “We’re gonna take care of you.”
The two of them lead me to... oh my stars it’s Sugarcube Corner. How did I miss that?! It’s a giant cupcake! I guess I wasn’t looking up. They lead me in, and the heat hits me like a wall. Of course Sugarcube Corner is heated. Everything is heated, except for me! I can’t help but notice Pinkie Pie also has a warm looking thick scarf, not just over her neck, but draped over her back.
Twilight herself has on a thinner pink striped scarf, but not much else, but she doesn’t even look cold. A princess thing, perhaps? And I have on a... big bunch of nothing. At least I didn’t walk into town, with a pair of men’s underwear draped across my back.
Twilight trots back outside, as the blistering heat makes my arms and—makes my four legs tingle. “Ow, this...” I say, lifting a foreleg sensitively, “These are starting to hurt. Ow, ow is this supposed to—”
A confusing blur later, I’m back outside, through the bakery’s back door, beside some empty crates and flour sacks, and belatedly I have to guess that Pinkie Pie has dragged me back out in the cold. Her warm hooves leave my shoulders as she gasps dramatically, but in genuine alarm. “I forgot!” Pinkie Pie says to my face, “It’s been so long, I forgot that ponies get really hurt when they get really cold! You need to stay out here, and warm up slowly. Wait here I’ll be right back.”
She vanishes through the door, and I don’t know what to do, so I just stand there. At least I can still stand. Walk, maybe not so much. The... frosty chill actually does make the needly burning in my limbs fade away. Are they going to have to amputate? But I still feel fine! But if I can’t warm up... what am I gonna do?
Pinkie Pie charges out again, with a thick blanket that she throws over me. Not sure what good that’s gonna do. I’m too tired to even shiver anymore! Then the pink pony pulls a... a balloon out of her hair, except that it’s really loose and floppy, and filled with water. She slaps it on top of the blanket on my back, then pulls out another, and another. “I have two more heating up,” she tells me, “Don’t move, just let them heat your barrel, and when they cool I’ll get more, until you’re warm enough to come inside.
“O-okay,” I say in bewilderment, looking at the uh... stuff on my back that’s just radiating heat through the blanket. Oh, it’s hot water. I get it. “Thank—” I start to say, but Pinkie Pie has already darted off again. I stand there, just... puzzled by her reaction to my predicament. That was weirdly specific knowledge for Pinkie Pie to have. I guess it’s just Pinkie being Pinkie. As the blissful warmth slowly radiates into my torso, the pins and needles start up again in my legs. “Pinkie, I think something’s...” I say, louder than I expected.
Then Pinkie Pie’s just there, saying, “Yes? Something’s what? Something’s wrong?”
“My... legs are still hurting,” I say, wincing and lifting one, and that just makes it flare with pain.
“That’s... gonna happen,” she says with a wistful look in her baby blue eyes, “Just try to grin ‘n bear it, okay? It’s just your little hoofsies waking up from being so cold!”
It hurts a lot more than just an arm falling asleep, but I nod and say, “Okay, thank you Pinkie. I just can’t believe I have hooves. ”
“What else would you have?” Pinkie asks curiously.
Wincing, I say, “Well I used to be a...” Wait... should I tell ponies that I was a human? They might react badly to it! Should I tell the main cast? They might... think I need to return home even more, if they don’t think I’m a real pony. I—I turned into a mare. Maybe that’s forbidden here! I don’t know. I don’t know anything, other than Pinkie Pie’s looking uneasy, and my hooves feel like someone’s rolling a cactus along their surface.
I need to find more information, so first taking a look around to see if Twilight is hovering near, I lean close to Pinkie Pies, and whisper, “Say, Pinkie, do you happen to have ever heard of anything like a human before?”
“You were a humin?” Pinkie declares loudly, straightening up in shock.
“I... oh, you have heard of them,” I say glumly. Of course I had to drop right into Equestria Girls canon.
“Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t,” Pinkie says noncommitally, tilting her head left and right, “What is a humin like, besides not having hooves?”
Or... maybe Equestria Girls isn’t canon?
“I didn’t say they didn’t hav... oh, I technically did, I suppose,” I admit reluctantly. Damn, Pinkie Pie is sharper than I expected! “T-they’re bigger than ponies,” I tell her cautiously, “More a...aggressive, and they walk on two feet. Sound familiar?”
“I dunno, it sounds pretty weird,” Pinkie says with a roll of her eyes. “But, don’t worry about it,” she adds, patting me on the head with her hoof, “Just try to put up with having four hoofsies, for now, and you can bet your britches my friend Twilight will figure out a way to help you get back on your feet!”
Of course she will. Of course this is only temporary. Oh stars, I don’t want it to end. I’m in pain, and miserable, and Pinkie Pie saved my life. I already like it better here than anything I could ever have back home.
“D-don’t cry! I didn’t mean it!” Pinkie stammers frantically, “Maybe Twilight’ll mess up and um, um, um, make you a sparrow instead?”
I totter trying to wipe my eyes clear, and Pinkie pulls a handkerchief out of her tail and... no seriously, she pulls a pink handkerchief out of her tail and lets me press my eyes into its soft, pink cloth.
After failing to blow my nose, I swallow my sorrow, and manage to tell Pinkie Pie, “It’s... it’s okay, Pinkie. I’m just so scared now that I’m a pony, because I like it very, very much.”
“So, huminnies don’t get scared?” Pinkie asks curiously.
“Humans,” I correct her, though it does sound kind of odd to say that word, now that I think about it. I can’t quite put my finger on it, though. “It’s really no problem,” I try to console her, “I just don’t know how to tell you how glad I am to see you. I don’t know how to thank you, just for... being here.”
“You can thank me later,” Pinkie Pie tells me with a bright and very genuine smile, “When you tell be all about your adventures! How you got lost in the snow, and how you ended up in Ponyville!”
I have to smile through the pain. “S-sure whatever you say,” I tell her, still faint from the notion that I’m speaking with Pinkie Pie right there, snout to snout, well not that close anymore. But her bountiful magenta curls, her soft round, pink curves accented with yellow and blue balloons, her beautiful smile. It’s really—there’s a distant ding within the bakery.
“You just sit tight,” Pinkie Pie says comfortingly, “I’m gonna go switch out some of those hot packs.
While she does that, I manage to sit on my belly again. I can’t at first, because my limbs surge in pain even when I try slightly crouching down. But finally I’m sitting there buried under a warm blanket, and a shiver starts to go through me. It’s like the chill retreats within me, and digs into my core, hiding from the radiating heat. “O-o-oh b-b-boy,” I say as my muscles awaken and everywhere that’s not touching a hot pack starts feeling icy cold.
I didn’t even realize how cold I was. I just sit there shivering, feeling like a melting pony popsicle, while Pinkie makes sure I feel entirely too warm under this blanket. The pain in my limbs has faded to a dull burn, and Pinkie seems satisfied with my condition. “Okay, I think you’re warmed up enough now,” Pinkie Pie says, “You can finally come inside.”
I blink at her.
“You don’t have to if you don’t feel like it,” Pinkie Pie says gently, “But when you’re ready for it, I really need you to come inside.”
I stare at Pinkie in dawning realization, as she looks back in confusion. This is going to be one of those stories, isn’t it. “What?” Pinkie asks self consciously.
“Nothing,” I tell her, looking away sullenly, “Just let me...” I try to stand, and... fail. I’m too tired to even stand up.
“Not a problem!” Pinkie says in a chipper tone, sticking her nose under my belly and somehow heaving me up onto her back. I lie there limply, while Pinkie moves underneath me. I’m actually feeling her... her body move beneath me as she carries me in. Together, we uh... come inside.
At last, I’m in the warmth. The beautiful, life giving warmth. I don’t know how it stays so warm in here. Twilight Sparkle still isn’t around, but Pinkie just lets me puddle uncoordinatedly in front of a table, with the blanket still wrapped around me. “I c-c-can’t believe I didn’t n-notice this place,” I say, hardly able to speak from how much my teeth are chattering. But I’m alive! “I m-m-must have walked p-p-past it a dozen times. It looks s-so different from below!”
“I’m just surprised you didn’t notice the smell!” Pinkie Pie said, gesturing towards the back and oh my gosh she’s right. Brownies and marshmallows and cream and cinnamon oh I want some cinnamon so bad and sugar and cherries, and it just smells incredible in here. I didn’t even notice, because I was so focused on getting warm, but I can smell a ton of delicious stuff in here, including... Pinkie Pie.
I... must have... unconsciously smelled Pinkie Pie, when I was lying across her back. Because she’s right there, and I already remember how she... smells. Something between ginger and allspice.
“Sugarcube Corner makes the best gingerbread this time of year,” Pinkie says, distracting me from my nose to look at her questioningly, “You can smell it all the way across town!”
All the way across...?
“How good is a pony’s sense of smell?” I ask, extremely curious.
Pinkie Pie looks at me like I’m insane. “Um... good?” she says uneasily. Oh shi—shoot that’s right. How is she gonna know the difference, if she hasn’t been human? I am such an idiot sometimes, it’s hilarious.
“Sorry, you wouldn’t be the one to ask,” I reassure Pinkie Pie. It’d have to be someone who suddenly got a pony’s sense of smell, or maybe someone who studied the science of olfactory... stuff I guess.
There was a soft chnk. It makes my ears twitch. At least their burning tingles faded quickly.
“Oh hey,” Pinkie says loudly, “That sounds like the toaster. Be right back, cutie!”
She... thinks I’m cute? That’s so amazing. I’ve never been cute before! Not since I was a very little ...boy. Am I not just a mare, but a cute mare? I bet I am. These stories never have the protagonist change into an ugly mare.
Pinkie Pie trots up again, with a large tray held easily in her mouth, balancing a tall glass full of purple fluid in it, next to some gorgeous smelling warm bagels, one covered in cream cheese, and one half of a bagel, just... plain.
“I know it doesn’t look like a lot,” Pinkie says apologetically, dropping the little plate and its half a bagel down on the table in front of me, “But pleeeeease take little bites, and eat it really slowly. If you really haven’t eaten in days, you might not be able to eat very much at first, but I promise it gets better.”
Has Pinkie Pie almost... frozen to death before? I... I don’t know how she knows all this stuff. I don’t know all this stuff, so I don’t know if she knows, or if she’s just guessing! It’s true I haven’t eaten in... days, or ever depending on which body you consider. And hypothermia would hasten any problems there.
“I’ll be fine, I think,” I tell the pink pony uncertainly, “It’s only been a few days, but it was getting really cold out there...” And with that, I look to my bagel, actual, amazing food that I never thought I’d see again. But... how do I eat it? Do I just... bite it?
I try poking the bagel with a creamy white hoof. It slightly stutters along the plate as my stiff nail taps it. A pink hoof hooks around my own then, just... curls around, and firmly moves my hoof back to my haunches on the floor. “No, silly,” Pinkie says, as I look at her grip on my hoof questioningly, “Use your tongue!”
I look up abruptly, to peer over at the large pink horse. “R-really?” I ask in astonishment. That can’t be true... but it’s canon, so is it really a thing?
“Yeah, see?” Pinkie says, and then I’m completely fascinated by her anatomy, which may be our anatomy, as she sticks her long, orange tongue out of her mouth practically all the way down her chest, down to her own cream cheese bagel. Her tongue wraps around the bagel like some kind of serpent, then just flicks and the bagel goes flying into the air. I watch the bagel’s descent until it falls neatly into Pinkie Pie’s mouth, her freakishly long tongue once more vanished into her mouth.
The bagel drops back to her plate with a big bite taken out of it. “Fee?” Pinkie Pie says with full cheeks, “Ish gool!”
That. Is what’s in my mouth?
I don’t even know what to think of that! What are ponies? Are we all part... giraffe?
“What?” Pinkie says, blushing through her fur somehow, and looking down at her own chest. “Do I have any cream cheese on me?” She looks up at me with an amused expression, saying, “Not that you could tell!” followed by a genuine giggle-snort.
Not that you could tell? ...huh. Pinkie Pie’s cream cheese is... pink for some reason.
Dazedly, I shake myself out of trying to understand Pinkie Pie. “N-nothing,” I say feeling supremely self conscious for having gone this long without even taking one bite of a stupid bagel. But I don’t want to just stick my tongue out in front of her. Is that a normal thing ponies do? I wouldn’t even know what to do if some big long orange... tentacle came out of my mouth! “I’ll just—um...” I say, taking the easy way out this time.
I just lower my face to my plate, and... try to get my lips around the bagel. It’s... actually kind of hard to do that without hands. I manage to get a bite eventually though, and straighten up with a proud smile.
“Oh! I get it!” Pinkie exclaims and a—a light bulb literally appears above her head? What the—it flicks out and just vanishes, as Pinkie jumps up, bounding over to the door, where a chill goes through me, as I can see Twilight Sparkle has entered, accompanied by an elegant white unicorn with blue diamonds on her rump. Rarity also has a very thick maroon scarf wrapped around her neck, and... laying over her back, and on her head she had this adorable fuzzy looking hat, of the same color, that perches askew on her perfectly coiffed blurple mane.
Pinkie is squealing excited words at her friend, but I look away before making eye contact with Rarity. This is going too fast... I’m gonna meet them all, then some incredible trial’s gonna come up, then... then they’ll find a way to return me home. That’s how those stories go, but I’m not ready yet! I don’t want to start this adventure, because I know how it ends, and I don’t like one bit of it!
I just take another bite of my bagel, try to take one at any rate. The darn thing keeps trying to escape me when my lips bump into it. Finally I just brace it against a hoof so that I can take another little bite out of it, then another.
I straighten up in surprise then, because Pinkie’s there beside me with her two friends, looking at me with sympathetic, loving eyes. Pinkie coos at me, “You’re just a little foal, aren’t you?”
The... no I—oh fuck I just inhaled—ack, help I can’t stop... so freaking ex... exhausted, and I swear this stupid bagel just went into my lungs. Juice. There’s juice. I can stop the heaving dry coughs if I... I need to wet my dry throat so much, but... but how do I use a cup? Why oh why did I try to eat this bagel, without drinking something first?
Then the pink pony saves me again, by tilting the glass with her hoof, right into my confused nose. Am I supposed to put my teeth on the lip? No time to ask! I just stick my whole snout in there, and start sucking up juice. Oh stars this is concord grape juice. This is absolutely sublime! This is the best thing I’ve ever drank!
My ears twitch, as Twilight gently tells me, “It’s okay little filly, you don’t have to make up stories. You’re not in trouble. I need to go research aging spells, so you hold tight and we’ll have you fixed up in a jiffy!”
Oh, this can’t end well.
“No, wait,” I gasp out, pulling free of the life giving purple elixir. I gasp for breath, noticing that I’m doing so through my mouth, if that weren’t obvious. So glad ponies aren’t anatomically correct in that regard.
“I’m not a...” I say, and wait... should I say it? What if she does turn me into a filly? Would that increase my lifespan? How long do ponies live?
At last I just settle on honesty as the best policy. If it won’t have terrible consequences (and it certainly will) then I can just go read about aging spells in the library. You know, after I... learn how to read.
“I’m not a filly,” I tell the two of them honestly. “I’m not supposed to be a p-pony. I... I’m acting like a foal because I’m not used to this... this body. I wasn’t a pony, in the other... verse. Yeah, that’s it.”
Did I say too much? They’re not gonna try to send me home now, are they? I don’t want to give them enough information to do so, but something tells me it’s pretty much inevitable in a story like this. What happens if I try to stall for time?
Rarity’s voice sounds even more elegant than I remembered, when she says, “Verse?” Her softly shadowed eyelids half close then, to give a disgusted look at Twilight, as Rarity says dryly, “Oh, now you’ve got her saying it, do you?”
“It’s a more accurate terminology!” Twilight protests, just like she would. And they’re all meeting me now.
“This is so clichéd...” I moan, just going back for more of that juice.
Well, Rarity seems sympathetic to my plight, but Twilight just wants to batter me with questions. She even gets me to recite the alphabet, which is a very bizarre experience, because it’s not... the alphabet.
“A B C D,” I start to say in a sing-song voice, then stop in confusion. “Wait, no, it’s... is it B after A? A B C D... what the heck is D anyway?”
I don’t make it through the whole alphabet, but Twilight’s already crowing about how I know an alien alphabet, and Rarity’s trying to calm her down, and Pinkie’s trying and succeeding to get me to drink some water. My terrible thirst quenched, I try to help Twilight as much as I’m willing to. At least my... oddly memorized alphabet should be safe to share. Doesn’t the alphabet start with Q?
As I answer her questions, I just feel so... tired, with this warm blanket still piled over my back, and my lips no longer cracked and dry. They’re still a little cracked, I guess. I wonder if there’s Chapstick in ponyland. Certainly would be possible to use... beeswax...
And then... motion and... someone’s waking me up, standing me up.
I don’t even know I just drift off again and... and softness swallows me. I don’t remember the last time I’ve slept this comfortably. There’s always aches or pains, or automotive traffic, or train whistles blaring in my window, or lawnmowers, or leaf blowers. I just float in this incredible softness, forgetting everything. Deliciously slowly, I become aware of my body again, and how I’m... curling my hands down over the edge of a rabbit soft blanket.
I drift in and out of consciousness there, feeling pure bliss, until I start to smell soup. Why am I in a cart race, to see who wins the soup? How did I get here? Something nudges me, and I hear a cheerful voice say, “Wake up, sleepyhead.”
“Mhm?” I mumble, my eyes slipping—
That wasn’t my voice that mumbled.
“Oh—” my eyes snap open and I look down not at hands, but at creamy furred hooves curled over a soft blanket. “Oh—” I repeat, surrounded by the balloons and boxes and... bathtub, and candy pillars on the walls. I made it. I’m alive. I’m here!
“Oh I’m okay!” I sigh in utter bliss, a girl’s voice coming from my chest, and it just comes naturally to me. I don’t have to fake it at all, because I’m a little pony, and a little mare who Pinkie Pie thinks is a cutie!
“You want some soup, miss Okay?” I hear a cheerful voice call out to me. Pinkie Pie! That’s right! I turn in wide-eyed shock to see the living, breathing pony who could have bounced into my TV screen and made herself at home, but... but her mane is in actual curls! Broad, swirly, tufty curls that poof out from her head in a volumnuous mess.
She gestures to a round... thing? It’s some kind of container I guess, but the top doesn’t match the bottom. It looks like a bowl, that someone put a—
“Oh, a lid. Of course.”
Wait... she got me ...soup?
My muscles scream in protest when I sit up, but I struggle up to find myself in Pinkie Pie’s bedroom, in Pinkie’s bed, like it was cut straight out of the show, except more... real, and from a new perspective. I can see the stairwell leading out of the room, and I suppose if it were the Pinkie Pride episode, then the camera would have been over there. I look at Pinkie Pie just unable to express my gratitude, gushing, “Thank you so much. That would be...”
And then I notice Princess Twilight Sparkle, alse standing in the room, just behind Pinkie Pie and to the left. My left. I notice the pony who’s pretty much destined to return me to... to somewhere I don’t want to think about right now. She’s looking at me tensely, and I’ve forgotten what I said to her, or if I did anything wrong. Is she going to kick me out because I did something wrong? Isn’t that what happens to characters who don’t want to return home?
Her violet eyes widen as I stare at her, and—I’m staring. Oh no she thinks I’m staring. I tear my gaze away from the lilac beauty to face a more energetic experience of pink. I should say something casual, so the princess doesn’t suspect that I’m afraid of her. “T-thank you so much,” I repeat to Pinkie Pie. That’s all I could think of? Really?
While I’m just blanking, Pinkie Pie easily just flips off the lid of the soup bowl with her hoof, and the amazing, savory smell it was giving off floods the room even more strongly. I lean over to where the bowl is on a table beside the bed. It’s steaming hot and smells of salt, carrots and peas.
“Well go ahead, dig in,” Pinkie Pie says encouragingly, “It shouldn’t be too hot.”
Should I just... stick my nose in, like with the water? It might be too hot though, and I do not want to get soup up my nose. Just... drink it like a cat? That doesn’t seem optimal.
“How do I...” I ask vaguely, looking at Pinkie hoping she can help me figure out how to get all this soup inside me as fast as possible, and pointedly not looking at the purple princess in the room.
Twilight’s stepping forward to peer at me curiously, almost like a circus exhibit, or one of her experiments, neither of which I want to be. “Do you not have soup in your native verse?” Twilight asks curiously, making me meet her eyes in bewilderment.
“What? No, we have soup,” I say in utter confusion, “I’m just... how do I eat it?”
“Like this?” Pinkie asks, and demonstrates, biting at the air above the soup, then... tilting her head back, and making a sipping sound. “Mmm, nomnomnom!” she says, looking at me with an expectant smile. She wants me to bite the soup? What? I just want soup for goodness’ sake! It’s right here tormenting me with it’s delicious soupiness!
“So I just—” I look down at the soup in frustration and just... I try to delicately lick up some soup like a cat, but that just burns my tongue.
“You don’t have bowls in your native verse, of course!” Twilight cheers like right next to me, peering into the bowl together with me. “You see, a bowl is a concave receptacle for hot liquids and cereal, that—”
“I know what a bowl is,” I say with an irritated huff. Clearly the story is just fucking with me at this point. “How do I use it?”
Then I realize who I just snapped at. Oh hay, Twilight’s looking at me like I’m an idiot. I probably am. I definitely am.
“The... bite grip?” the purple horse suggests tentatively.
“Thank you! Yes,” I say in relief, looking from Twilight to the soup with curiosity, “What is that?”
Twilight gestures with a few limp shakes of a forehoof at the bowl, saying, “There’s a lip on the side... you bite that, so that you can lift the bowl.”
A lip on the... oh does she mean the literal lip of the bowl? I guess that could work? I’m going to spill hot soup all over myself, aren’t I? Biting down on the rim, I do splash a little soup. Oh no and it’s getting on Pinkie Pie’s sheets, too. Why didn’t I climb out of her bed before diving headfirst into filling the pit of my stomach? The world may never know.
Okay, easy now... don’t want to flood my mouth with hot soup... just tilt it a teeny little bit... then the flavor explosion of hot soup flows into my mouth. That bagel was cardboard compared to this. I think I give a moan of pleasure from the taste of it. It’s all I can do not to guzzle it so fast that it pours out my cheeks. It tastes of tomatoes, and carrots, and beans and love.
They’re both looking at me. I can’t talk to them like this. Do I take another sip, or what? This is a lot less convenient than hands. Shakily returning the bowl to where I lifted it from, I look down at it, remarking thoughtfully, “It’s not very convenient if you can’t talk while holding it...”
“Some ponies hold the bowl in their forehooves,” Twilight says helpfully attracting my... ear wow, my ear just sort of turns forward to listen to her. “But it’s common etiquette to only pick up the bowl when you’re drinking soup. With your mouth, I mean.”
That’s... fascinating. Ponies don’t just have some kind of magic, easy solution to drinking soup, but they have some form of etiquette for dealing with the issues it raises. I think... I think I’m going to take another sip.
I’m in the middle of my attempt, when Twilight says, “So, they have bowls in your verse,” swaying on her hooves in what looks like she’s trying to be subtly suggestive, but adorably failing at it. “But they have a different design?”
I um... can’t answer her with a bowl in my mouth. But I take care of that, swallowing the amazingly hearty substance. “Oh, they’re the same design,” I say once the bowl is on the table again, looking at Twilight amiably, “But they have a different use for the lip of the bowl, what you call the bite grip.”
“Really? What’s that?” she asks curiously.
...huh.
I stare down at my bowl, whose sloping lip is perfect for a pony to bite onto, and it’s strange but all I can say to that question is, “I don’t know...”
There’s a glass of water beside the soup. I am so thirsty. Worse still, this soup is really salty! I wonder if I could drink some water.
Pinkie Pie says “I don’t suppose you could...” murmuring something quietly to Twilight, while I try to just... hug the glass between my hooves? Is that how you do it? I don’t want to spill.
“No problem, Pinkie,” Twilight says happily, turning to her pink friend, “And thank you for this chance to get to know her better!”
Oh, right. Twilight’s trying to get to know me. She’s going to befriend me. Gotta move the story along after all, or you’ll lose readers. I shakily pull my forehooves away from the water glass and just try to think what to say.
Pinkie breaks the tension by speaking in Spanish. “Mi casa su casa! Anything you need, just go ahead and use it.” It’d be a lot more mind blowing to hear that, if I hadn’t already seen her singing in fluent (bad) Spanish on the show. I look between the two of them, but Pinkie seems to be satisfied with whatever she was trying to say. She goes bouncing down the stairs leading out of her room, leaving me alone with...
Twilight Sparkle.