It was dark and you were alone, and yet you knew you were safe. So long as you heard the steady beating of that heart you knew you were invincible. You opened your eyes and saw the blue of your mane blocking your vision, briefly reminding you of your roommate. Looking to either side, you found you were in a bed, in their bed. As you looked down and saw your blue hoof, you heard only the heart beat, thundering all around you.
Raising your head, you found the familiar orange pegasus barging in through the door. She quickly hopped up onto the bed with you and rubbed the tip of her snout against yours, trying to shush your crying. But you weren't crying this time, instead you're just happy to see her as she continues to try calming you down. You glance down to see your darker blue coat and fall backwards. As she looks at you worried, you smile again and break the sound of the heart beat.
"It's okay," you assure her as your vision starts to fade, "It was just a bad dream is all." Your eyes close again and you are enveloped entirely by the heart beat again. Daddy will never let anyone hurt his favorite filly.
Enveloped in the warm embrace, you suddenly start to feel a chill at the base of your spine, and slowly it makes its way up to the back of your neck and dissipates through your skull. The heart beat slows its pace, becomes less regular. The warmth that protected you failing, you're one again vulnerable to the cold, and the distant howl turns your spine into an icicle. Cold replaces warmth, fear replaces comfort.
You open your eyes suddenly and find yourself in the tent, alone. The orange mare is no longer in front of you and behind you the blue stallion is also absent. You sit up and look towards the flap of the tent, they must be stretching out after a long night's sleep, and to be honest you'd like to as well. As you exit through the illuminated gap between the flaps, you find that it's still night out, and there's no one in sight. You call out, wondering on some level if they felt 'the call of the wild,' and didn't want to disturb you. The only response you get is the hooting of an owl overhead.
Poking your head into Fish's and Cotton's tent finds them gone as well, and desperately you call out, "Is anyone here?"
The answer you get is an unwelcome one, a wolf's howl. Closer than the one in your dream. Much closer. You do your best to quietly slip into the closer of the two tents and shortly after hear the heavy breathing of the canine outside. While you're sure the predator can't hear you over the sound of its own breathing, you still do your best to steady your breathing, to keep yourself from panicking. The slow deliberate padding of its paws against the dirt has you inching to the opposite end of your tarp fortress. It turns a corner and, with the moon behind it, casts its shadow against the tent and as much as you may have liked shadow puppets of dogs before, you certainly didn't anymore. As the shadow freezes, you find that you're sobbing, quietly but still sobbing. You didn't understand, Dad had said he'd never let anyone hurt you and yet, they abandoned you. They had all abandoned you.
The cold turned to freezing, the fear turned to terror. The shadow lowered and a snarl sounded. You were pretty sure you could see the shadows of the slobber dripping from its open mouth which only helped you fill in the blanks of its jaws. Backed into a corner, you had nowhere to run, all you could do was curl up, pray that someone, anyone, would come save you... That, or at the very least hope for a quick death.
With your eyes closed tight, you didn't see it, but you heard the wolf pounce. Heard the tearing of the tarp, and as time slowed you knew this would be it. The end of Anon, the end of Bluebelle. And yet, despite waiting for what felt like an eternity, death never came. The freezing became cold and the cold became warm, the terror became fear and the fear became comfort.
You opened your eyes and found yourself back in the tent. The heart beat had returned and behind you, still holding you to himself, lay Dad. There was no more thunderous heart beating echoing out, and the dull orange glow peering in through the flaps of the tent had you guessing it was morning. It took you a minute, but eventually you were able to worm out of Dad's grip and finally thought to look over at Mom, to make sure she was still there and there she was sound asleep. For once, you were relieved to be up before your parents, and decided to make the best of it by heading outside to watch the sunrise. Outside of the tent, you found Flying Fish dunking herself under the water every so often and fluttering her wings when she breached.
"Oh, uhh, hey Aunt Fishie," you offered in greeting as you made your way to her. "You're up early."
She paused in her routine and looked back over at you with some surprise, "Oh, Blue! I guess I could say the same for you."
You had to agree with her as you made your way over to the stream and sat down, "Yeah, I guess I didn't sleep so well..." you trailed off.
Flying bobbed her way over to you and rested her head in her hooves as she rested them on the bank, "Did it have something to do with what happened last night?"
With a well practiced shake of the head, you mumbled out, "I don't know... I was really looking forward to camping but I don't know if I like it." You had to sigh for yourself there. You honestly loved camping, but it seemed like old memories were rearing their ugly, deformed faces in the way of new ones.
"Well, do you want to go home?" she asked with concern on her face. "If so it isn't a problem, Cotton and I come out here all the time so it's no feathers off our wings about cancelling a trip early."
You turned your head back to the tent, where Mom and Dad were still sleeping, with a pang of guilt. They hadn't necessarily talked about loving camping, but you could tell they had at least some level of experience with it considering how organized they were with packing, Mom's knowledge of hiking songs, and how well the entire camp was set up. Flying Fish might be good at camping, but it wasn't her cutiemark so she had to have had some help with this. You returned your attention to Fishy and shook your head negatively again, "No, I'll be fine."
"Well, is there anything I can do to help you have a better time?" she asked, almost desperate to cheer you up.
Turning back again, but this time up towards the sun, you squinted your eyes a bit as a few rogue rays of light made their way through the branches and trunks of the trees. "Do you think we could go up there?" you asked, pointing your hoof up towards the trees as you looked back at Fish. "I wanna see the sunrise."
With a smile, she turned around in the water and stretched her wings out, "Sure thing, hop on."
Doing as you were told, you hopped onto Flying Fish's back and held on to her neck, and true to her namesake she lifted out of the water and brought the both of you up to the treetops. After testing several branches, she eventually found one that was high enough but sturdy enough to support the weight of both of you, and while you had to stay horseback up here you were still able to get that view you'd always wanted. As the beams of light shone onto your face, warming you up, you thought back to your dream... to the good part at least. Alas, there was no heart beating in the background still, so you were pretty sure you were awake... Pretty sure.
The two of you stayed up there for a while with little chatter, just taking in the fresh air and the breathtaking sight. All across the horizon before you and to the right were trees, trees, and trees, and to your left stood the everpresent Foal Mountain. While Celestia did bring up the Sun for special occasions, you had to assume she didn't do it every day of the year with how slow it moved to its position in the sky... Then again, it's the sun, it's probably really fucking heavy and that's a lot more than you can move at all. Eventually, however, Cotton had woken up and so the two of you had to head back down. You made a strong case for just her going down to the campsite and you staying up in the trees, mainly consisting of such arguments as "If I fall you can catch me," and "The branches would break my fall long before I hit the ground," but Flying Fish wasn't going to let you stay there by yourself, especially not after the previous night.
Once back on the ground, you and Cotton hopped into the stream for a nature bath while Flying Fish played the lifeguard role until Mom and Dad woke up about an hour after Cotton. Then it was 'Everypony out of the water,' while Flying Fish showed off her fishing skills and you proved that fishing is all about setting up your line and then promptly ignoring it until something bites. It's a lot easier with alcohol but alas, ponies aren't civilized enough to give 6 year olds alcohol... okay that's actually probably for the best. Mom opted in to fish, but only so long as she could read her book which Flying Fish didn't mind since that meant there'd be less noise to spook the fish, and Dad decided he was too cool to fish and so worked on his tan which also pleased Fish except for when you'd leave your pole unattended in order to put random objects you found on him, mostly leaves and rocks but one time you even put a fish on him. Not even Flying could be upset about that as everyone had a hearty laugh.
Morning turned to noon and noon to evening and, while the camping trip had had a rocky start, you felt like you were finally going to be able to relax this weekend. After Flying Fish had determined she had fished the stream dry for the day, she busted out a couple of hoops and bean bags and you all played a game that felt like a child friendly version of horeseshoes, for actual horses. Did ponies play horseshoes? Humans didn't throw people shoes at anything for a game, but- ah forget it. It was easier to throw the bean bags anyway, especially since you didn't have those mudhorse muscles, but you still had wings!... Even if you couldn't fly yet. Baby steps, Blue. Baby steps. Or foal steps. Whatever. The teams started with Cotton and Flying Fish vs Mom and you while Dad played referee, and after that match with you and Mom winning, Mom and Dad swapped roles and ended up falling short by a couple of throws. You blamed Dad for that, he didn't have the fire in his heart and soul to do what it took to win.
With the sun starting to set, it came time to collect firewood, and since there was still some sunlight out, the adults decided that it would be nice for you and Cotton to go fetch some while they used what was left over to cook the fish mostly caught by Flying Fish.
"But wait, why are we gathering the firewood?" you asked, becoming aware of just how fast the sun was setting compared to how slow it rose this morning.
"Because I caught the fish," spoke up Fishy.
"I know how to prepare the fish," said Mom with a small, sharp knife that casually reminded you of your fillet knife on Earth but was slightly different.
"I'm just good at knowing when food is done cooking," Dad admitted as he sat by the fire.
"Well I can tell when food is done cooking!"
With a roll of her eyes, Mom started cutting open the fish in her hooves, "Blue, I don't think you've ever had fish before. It's not exactly like hayburgers or anything like that."
You stumbled a bit as you were bumped by Cotton, "Relax, Blue. It'll be easy, trust me. We just gotta grab some sticks is all."
Looking up at him, you weren't sure if it was the unreliable lighting of the campfire or if he actually had, but it looked like Cotton was grinning. You turned back to the adults who were all waiting for either your next protest or your agreement to go, and it wasn't like you could tell them you'd prepared fish before, so with a groan you had to relent, "Fine, we'll go get the firewood."
"Great! Just grab what you can find and I'm sure it'll be enough," Fishy replied before going back to helping Mom prepare the fish for cooking.
Cotton and you set off and once you were out of the light of the campfire and through the bushes, he asked smugly, "So, is my little pony afraid of the dark?"
With a scoff, you retorted, "Please, I was out of diapers by the time I was three."
Despite the low light, you could tell Cotton was furrowing his brow, and the annoyance in his voice all but confirmed it, "Listen, I'm not like that anymore. Besides, I overheard our moms today while you were trying to bury your Dad in sand." You were actually trying to give him a mermaid body but the sand wouldn't stay steady. "Your mom was saying your dad was covered in sweat when he woke up, and my mom said you looked scared when you woke up. Probably just a little filly having another nightmare," he teased.
Now it was your turn to get worked up, your tried and true method of venting was grinding your teeth which unfortunately kept you from coming up with a witty remark.
Emboldened by your silence, he continued on, "Don't worry, though. If you get scared, just stick with me and I'll keep you safe. It's what special someponies do for one another." The way he ended that had you wishing he wasn't almost twice your size, but those were the facts of the matter.
Regardless, you weren't going to take that shit. The previous night you were beginning to think he might have been finally coming to understand that you were both dudes and at best you just wanted to be acquaintances with him, but after a day of successfully playing your roles in the world, he seemed to revert back to the creep who imprinted on you while you were still coming to grips with being a pony. "Listen, fuckface," you started, "I am not now nor will I ever be your 'special somepony.' I don't know how you haven't come to grasp that over the past six years we've known each other, but here it is out in the open. We will never be a 'thing,' if our mothers weren't such good friends I would literally never talk to you. Do you get it? We. Are. Not. Friends." Staring at him as he looked on in shock only further soured your mood and so you turned around and set off, calling back to him, "We're splitting up. That way we'll find more wood and maybe you'll come to accept that we have nothing in common, Nothing."
It had to be at least ten minutes before you had finally calmed your breathing back down and were no longer on a cruise control course away from him. It was only then that you paused and looked back, to see nothing but the brush of the forest. Biting your lip, you fluttered your wings to lift yourself off the ground a bit, but even from your slightly heightened vantage point you couldn't see any sort of landmarks to navigate back with. Unceremoniously plopping back down onto the ground, you tried looking up and while you were able to spot some moonlight through the canopy, it wasn't enough to find where the moon actually was... Nor were you sure you could actually navigate by the moon's position the same way you could the sun's. Going for the second option you tried to remember which way Foal Mountain was, but still the canopy of the trees got in the way. You could try to find the stream and then follow that until you got to the campsite... But was that in front of you or behind you? The possibility of screaming for help was briefly considered until you remembered your nightmare. There may have been no howl this time, but you still felt the chill rising up your spine.
"Okay Anon... This is no time to be afraid," you said aloud to no one but yourself, "Fear is the mind killer." You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, "... So let's just call this intimidation." You opened your eyes and looked around again, "That's different than fear, right? I'm not afraid of the forest, I'm just intimidated by it... Yeah, that makes sense." Thinking back to a nonexistent lesson in the nonexistent school of 'The Streets,' you looked around for a stick and upon finding one, tossed it up in the air. "Whichever way it points, I'm going," you promise yourself. When it ends up landing, however, you forget which side was supposed to be the head of the arrow and which the tail. "Errr.... This way!" you said, deciding to go to your right. If it's right, it can't be wrong. Checking the canopy above every so often, you were pretty sure you remained sort of straight from where your stick pointed. At the very least you hadn't gotten completely turned around yet and that was a plus, that meant zero time wasted backtracking.
The sound of a monstrous roar quickly broke your concentration, causing you to let out a shriek, before realizing it was your stomach. "Right, shit. We were supposed to eat after we got back... Okay, okay, uhhh, a-ha!" They were cooking fish! Horses have better smell than humans, right? Who knows, one way to find out! You lifted your snout towards the sky and closed your eyes, trying to cut off as many senses as you could while sniffing the air, hoping to be some sort of Daredevil rip off. And somehow... It works! Holy mother of Jesus you can actually smell the fish! You turn your head every which way trying to determine where the smell is coming from and mentally kick yourself when you find it's strongest from behind you. Lead by your nose, you dash off in the direction, keeping your snout high but still low enough to see oncoming trees. You couldn't believe it, you were actually going to get out of these damned woods, even without the use of your wings! Take that literally everyone else!
God, you couldn't wait to see that campfire again. To actually taste a fresh cooked fish for the first time in... Well, years! Galloping along, your mind was filled with the sweet taste, you wondered if they used any spices here in Equestria with their fish, probably salt at the latest. As your mouth started to drool, your ears finally forced themselves into your brain. There was some running water, and it was close. How close? Well, your hooves weren't touching the ground anymore...