//------------------------------//
// A bit of a hike  
// Story: In Our Realm 
// by GuyWithAJetPack 
//------------------------------//

	I told them to go home. I didn't want to put my anger with them. I trudged to my room, and collapsed on the bed. "Scoots..."   I cried, looking at the art that she had made over the span of the time that she was here. but I I kept looking between two of them. The canvas, and the first drawing. The paper had been up for so long now, It had started to fold. I looked around the room. The door to her room had been blocked on her side by a desk. I got up for a minute.


"Damn it. No, I am not giving up. I am going to find her." I said, putting on my shoes. I grabbed my old camping gear and some canned food. God knows how long I would be looking for her. I walked out the front door, and found that the assholes were still there. One of them tackled me too hard. My school years flashed by. Every beating, verbal assault, and all else against me appeared in my head. "Still weak, just like high school, huh guys?" he said, and the others laughed. I snapped then.


I stood up and faced the one who tackled me. I looked him in the eye. He started laughing again. "Going to stare me to death, is that what those ponies do?" he chuckled, mocking my brony side. "He is still a homo like ba-" he started before I punched him. The others backed off, realizing that I had finally snapped. The one I punched shoved me, making me fall to the ground. He started kicking me while I was on the ground. I had officially had enough of this shit. 


I tripped him, got up, then started kicking him. With each kick, I said what it was for. Once I had finished, I kicked him in the nose, then blood streaked out. "Who's next?" I screamed at the others in a rage. They grabbed their friend and left. I made sure the door was locked, then hopped on my bike and rode off into the street, heading the direction that Scootaloo had flown away in.


The foothills were easy, but the mountains were hard. I was about ready to give up when I saw an orange feather lying on the ground. It was too big to belong to any bird, plus it was orange. It kept my hopes up as I continued up the mountain on foot, as the terrain was impossible to pass on a bike.


When the sun began to set, I decided to set up camp. After the tent was up, I decided to eat. I set up a fire, sat by it, then went to the tent. I fell asleep. I dreamed of me and Scootaloo flying through the air. Then she fell, and I couldn't find her  no matter how hard I looked. I woke up, the sun hadn't risen, and the fire was still casting light into the tent. I sat up, and heard rustling. A shadow was cast on the tent as something came in between the fire and it. I didn't believe the shape. That is, until it unfurled it's wings.