I wake to a chilling wind, rousing me from my rest. I cannot suffer it, and force myself up, favoring my wounded leg.
In doing so, I toss the small pony, who squeaks again as it tumbles. Accident. I hadn’t recalled its presence next to me. It is unhurt.
It seems I do heal fast. My wound no longer bleeds, and hurts less even as I use the leg. Which helps as I block the entrance with wood and try to cover the varied holes I can find. I find the finished product, though it does reduce the wind, ugly and unsatisfying. The wood is soft, rotten, and simply… not right. I want stone.
I sigh, and remind myself that this is, at best, a very temporary den. Something to hide within while I recover, and maybe enough to keep the wind and rain at bay. Nothing more.
I return to the inner sanctum, and the tiny pony moves to me, pressing its tiny form against me. It is colder than I am. I allow it to remain.
We shall warm with the sun, and at least I have stopped most of the breeze. For now, I should try and clean myself. And… why not the tiny pony as well? Being covered in dirt and my dried blood cannot be pleasant for it.
It is reluctant to let me do so. Afraid of my mouth I think, which is understandable. If I was its size, I wouldn’t want my jaws near me either.
It can wait. I manage to clean most of myself, finding that I can flex and shift to enable me to reach most of myself. A cautious grooming of my leg reveals a large scab, one that I hope means it is healing well. My licks seem to make it feel better for some reason.
Hm? The tiny pony seems to wait for me, trying to use its hoof to wipe at its face. Maybe now it will let me?
It does allow me, and my vague fear was proven correct. It is disgusting. I would guess that it had not been clean in a very long time. It seemed to enjoy the experience, making… giggles I think.
Perhaps these things are not true ponies. Ponies don’t make such sounds, and the color is all wrong. Not to mention the armor, and the spears… I need to look more closely next time I see the others. To try and see exactly how they were carrying those weapons.
I discover it is female, and when I finish, she is a pleasing shade of brown, darker than my coat and lighter than my feathers. If I try, she is very close if not the same color as what I suspect to be my mane.
She continues to make sounds when I finish. They are… quite varied. Far more sounds than a normal horse would, and possibly even could, make.
I am hungry, and as my stomach growls, she pauses, looking up at me.
Well, if the shape is any indication, she eats plants. Unless she is nursing. Which is stupid, she lives on her own. She no longer requires a mother.
However, she is far too small to go hunting with me. And too small for me to feel safe with her free to wander.
I manage to stuff her back into her den, unhappy noises issuing forth as I do so.
“Stay! It is not safe for tiny things to wander!” I tell it, hoping it will at least understand the message.
I hear muffled sounds, but it does not come out again. I had thought I might need to do that a few times, but it seems to have understood. And just in case, I shall block the entry as I leave.
As I leave, I wonder what I can get to eat. Perhaps another pony?
No. They would be ready for me, they might even be gone, and I would… feel guilty. I was already caring for the tiny one, like a… pet? Denmate? I don’t know, but eating another pony would be like eating her, which was oddly unacceptable.
I must be bonding. But I am lost and alone and totally unknowing of everything around me so…It is normal to bond with animals in these situations, correct? Even if said bonding did deny me a… truly wonderful food source? I ponder on my feelings toward the tiny pony as I hunt, using my roar to help me gain an acceptable meal of rabbits and birds. A good sleep seems to be enough to refresh whatever I use to stop things.
As for the pony… I won’t harm her, I know that already. She saved me, and now seems to accept me in what I suspect is actually her own wooden den. The big ones lived in them, why not her? It would explain the badly made properties as well; she is too young to make her own properly. Yet, why is she apart?
I find myself wanting to be near her more. Protective feelings. I feel… happy considering them, so it is decided.
I shall accept her as my companion.
I wonder how much she eats, and then wonder where I will find water as I return.
“I return.” I call as I enter once more, finding the phrase automatic. Another mystery I suppose. As I reach the inner sanctum, I expect her to rush me, but she does not.
Why not? Has she left? Is she… hurt? Fear strikes me, and I look around, trying to spot some clue. Has something taken her for a meal?! I…
Wait. Her tail pokes free from its den, flicking, as if to catch my attention.
The relief is stunning. I really have to think about this bond I have with her. That was great fear for her I had felt. I drop the plants and head to her. Maybe she is stuck.
I carefully grasp her tail and pull her free. I set her down, and she makes lots of sounds, and seems upset with me. I would swear she is complaining about my having stuffed her inside her den.
She seems intelligent, like myself. Enough to make me doubt my certainty that she is but an animal. But surely, I must just be attributing her those things, trying to find a better companion for myself. It makes me happy to imagine those things for her, and helps me feel better in this strange place.
I know the perfect name.
I pat her with a paw, and name her, “Mirage.” She looks up at me, and I repeat. Eventually, she will understand. At least, I hope she will, but then, she does seem smart. She will learn quickly.
After a dozen or so repetitions, she seems to know her name. She responds to it now.
What is this? She is repeatedly making the same sound at me over and over. Tapping at me, and saying the same, sound, over and over.
I think it would sound something like, ‘Kitty’.
I… Is she… is it possible..?
I manage to reproduce the sound, and she beams at me.
“Kitty.” she repeats, tapping at my leg. Then she taps herself.
“Ma… mari… Mirage.”
I…
What is…
But…
I don’t…
“Kitty? Mir…Mirage?”
She is… speaking. Not just her sounds, but… my sounds.
She has… she has named me, as I have named her… I look at her, and see her eyes, watching me. See her faint confusion, her mild concern, see my own shock reflected in her bright orbs.
She is no animal. It is not a product of my mind that I see those things.
She is like me. Intelligent. She speaks. Not like I do, but she speaks. She thinks. She feels, just as I do. And with her, so the rest of them…
I ate two of them. Two ponies. And…
Truly speaking, I would not care. Even now, looking back, I don’t care. Even if they had spoken my tongue, I would have eaten them, wanted to eat them. It is a surprising side of myself, and one only quieted by Mirage.
She alone makes me stop, and hesitate, and not want to. She saved my life… and in so doing, saved theirs. I did not hunt them, nor will I hunt them, and only because of her.
Her races owes her a debt of gratitude. But, now what? What should I do, knowing that the ponies think? Leave far and away? Remain near them? Is it even safe to remain near them, for either them or me?
Mirage seems to see my thoughts, and grabs hold of my leg, staring up at me.
“Mirage.”
I… I must have been blind earlier, because now, I can see her eyes and meaning with ease.
She fears for me, cares for me. She worries that I might do something, and… perhaps she fears my leaving? My leaving here? Or my leaving her?
I push her toward her den, and feel her grip tighten. “Mirage!” she cries, and I understand.
“…You want to stay with me?” I ask her, despite knowing that she won’t understand the words. Her response is to somehow clamber atop me, and I smile.
“Mirage!” she chirps from up high.
I laugh at her antics. I know I will remain with her, and know that, even when she helped at first, I had never had an intention to leave her behind. Even should I gone to find a new den, I would have brought her with me.
I will remain here, with her, with her den, her home, her place where she knows. This is good enough for me, and with her…
For her, I can suffer this cave of wood and these cold winds. For her, I shan’t eat pony. I’ll feed her, see her cared for. See her looking at me with those big eyes, and knowing that she knows me, and I her.
From nothing, I have found life and now purpose. I am happy.
Mirage is happy, frolicking in the fields outside as I watch her. I think she is starting to understand my reasons ever more, and each day, she manages to get me to understand her a little more. Like how she really hates me stuffing her inside her little den when I go hunting. I’ve seen her trying to improve it, and my thoughts from before are correct; she is very bad at making a den.
She has no fear. Not of me, not of our location, of nothing. I fear that some predator will attack her as she happily canters into the nearby woods without a single thought if not for me. I try to let her tell me when something is bad or not, but I do wonder if Mirage knows everything. But what she does know matters much:
She knows where to find water. She knows the best spots for her to eat, and she has even brought me to where I can find prey to eat. In many ways, it is she that cares for me, and not I her.
Four days I have lived with her. I have only truly lived for those four days, but I suspect I will not find a happier time than right now. Seeing her happiness, seeing the land around us, bright and green and warm, albeit growing colder as the time passes. I worry about that, but then, I am sure I will be fine, as will Mirage.
Together, there seems nothing that can harm us, her knowledge and my strength. And I have discovered something strange.
When I roar, everything freezes, even the skies above, the clouds and winds. But one thing does not.
Mirage continues to move with me. And since the first time, I have noticed that she has gained a strange mark on her flanks. Two white circles, with regular markings along their inner edges. One is larger, and has a lion’s roaring head in the center, mine I suspect. The other is smaller, and free of the greater decoration.
She loves when I roar as well, not only just yelling with me, but laughing as she jumps in the frozen world around us. She even takes the time to design shapes in the grass before it wears off. They make me smile.
And she looks much, much better now. She has gained some weight, and looks healthier, cleaner. Alone, she wasn't really able to care for herself, but with my aid, she gets her favorite food, apples, and now no longer looks so thin.
This time is perfect. I don’t want it to end.
The sun sets. Time to return to the den. I call, “Mirage!” and see her head over to me. I smile at her, before I hear some kind of sound. Like a fearful scream.
I look up, while Mirage looks confused and worried, and spot a pony in the distance. They are rushing away, and I am… unsure.
I glance at Mirage, and note her vague fear. Something about that sound has upset her. It has upset me. She leans on me, and looks up.
I cautiously pick her up in my jaws, and carry her back to our den. Something upset that pony, and I am feeling worried.
If it wasn't me, it was something like me that I haven’t seen, which was bad, considering I had no idea what that might be. If it was me…
Considering what I did days ago, it was possible that I might find some more spear holding ponies coming after me in defense of their own. And considering their intellect…
Well, I would do something about me if I was near me so to speak. I would not enjoy something much larger than myself living near me that I knew had killed and devoured two of my own kind. I would leave rather than fight, but then, they might not. I don’t know.
Their wooden caves might be too important for them to leave them so readily and easily as that.
I reach our den, and set Mirage down, and note how she seems unsure and worried, retreating back to her own tiny den, before looking back out at me.
“…It will be fine.” I tell her, both for her and myself. “I am sure.”
I am not sure. In fact, the more I think on it, the more concerned I am. They are fast, their spears hurt, and if there were more than two…
I shudder, and Mirage gives a faint cry, coming to me. I see fear in her eyes, and see my own fear reflected in them. But upon seeing her like that…
My spirits harden, and my fear is slain by a determination to calm her, and keep her safe. I smile at her, and purr, and she calms again, and now, now I am sure.
This is my home. This is my place. If they come, I will not run away, nor surrender to them. I know them better now. I won’t make the same mistakes as before. I shall defend myself, my den, and Mirage to the best I can.
Let them come. I shall be ready for them. They shall find their deaths at my claws and teeth.
It is late, and I hear them now. The soft, gentle sounds of steps nearby, my ears up and listening for anything like that. I hear them, and Mirage looks at me, nervous.
I push her behind me, and look at the entry. They will break the wood, or otherwise enter. This space is too small for me to fight easily, and considering the spears, will be easy for them to hold me off. I cannot allow that.
I should preempt them, and in so doing, find the initiative. I tense and then pause.
I could also just roar, and find them still and helpless instead. I nearly forgot.
I roar, and sensing the stillness, exit.
A dozen or more of them, each with a spear. If I had charged out, I would be dead on them already. I smirk, seeing them ready to fight, but unable to even blink. My den, my home.
No invaders allowed.
I bend down, to snap my jaws on the nearest when I hear “Mirage!” screamed behind me.
I look, and spot Mirage, eyes huge and fearful. “Mirage!” she screams, and shuts her big eyes tight, as if trying not to see something horrible…
…I know what she means. I do not snap my jaws shut, and stand back up.
I go back to her, and purr, making her start in surprise, looking up at me before looking toward the frozen ponies. Seeing them unhurt, I see her calm greatly, and she peers up at me again.
I feel a very deep urge to kill the ponies for what they have tried. But I deny it, for her, and her alone. But if I deny it…
…We cannot remain. We must leave, now. This den is no longer safe. We must find another, preferably one far away.
I think I saw mountains during my flight; those might do. A den with a good view of the land, where nothing can harm Mirage. A den of rock and safety.
One where ponies cannot find us, and thus, I will not need to fight them. Not feel the urge to kill them, nor the temptation to eat them. The forest should have something within it for now, and who knows. Maybe I might find something within it for good.
For her, I shall travel the world to find a place to be without harming ponies. I would bed down wherever I can find food for her and me so long as she is happy.
I take several steps away when I notice.
I do not hear Mirage following me.
I look back, and spot her staring at the frozen ponies. I… do not know what she is thinking. But… I… think I know.
She wants to be with them. Her own kind. I understand; I would choose the… the whatever I am. I mean…
She is a pony. She eats plants, things I cannot. She is… she is prey, and I shouldn’t truly be near her at all. It is the rules of nature that it be so… But…
But I was happy. I was so happy, so peaceful. I… I loved caring for her. I loved finding her food, hearing her tiny laughs, her tiny voice speaking to me despite the lack of understanding. Her bright eyes staring up at me with such… kindness and… dare I say it, love?
I… We had something special, I think. Something so potent that my hunger and instincts were quieted, and I lived for her, wanted to live for her. But she has found her place now. She will find a better life amongst ponies than with me in isolation. Surely she will.
It was never a permanent bond between us. Just like the den, it was fated to one day end. I can start eating ponies again, and live a life more fitting for me, and… and…
…
It…
It… it hurts. More so than the spear had hurt somehow. I try to ignore it, and force myself away. It is for the best for her to stay, and I to go…
I…
I… I am…
I am not crying. I am big and strong, tough and hardy. I do not cry. I do not feel this pain in me as I walk to the forest. My legs feel heavy, my wings feel heavy, and I feel my tail hanging limply behind me…
Something gently impacts me, and I stop. I turn, and with bleary vision,
Not crying.
Bleary vision, I see Mirage. She smiles up at me, and climbs onto my back. “Kitty” she says, along with much more, and settles down there, her intent obvious, though her words are not. I can feel her gripping my back, tiny hooves holding onto one wing.
She is coming with me. She has chosen me, over her own. My vision is nearly useless, but I smile at her.
I am not crying.
We go together, to find a new place.
It grows late, and I do not find another shelter for the night. The air is chill and cold, soon to be colder still. The trees offering minimal protection from what is thankfully only a faint breeze.
It grows too late to continue like this; Mirage is both cold and tired, her grip lessoning as the light dims. We shall have to sleep outside for this night. I might freeze during the night, but Mirage will be near me, and she will be warm, and in her warmth, I will somehow find comfort.
I am woken in the middle of the night by whimpers. I look, and spot Mirage, caught within a thorn bush. She must have been hungry and gotten stuck within it in search of its berries, finding herself unable to back out of it.
I find it slightly amusing, slightly concerning, but I am far too tired for this. I groan as I stand up; I have to get her out.
I push my own head in, my fur enough to hold off most of the thorns, and gently grab hold of her. Then I pull her free of the bush.
She gives a little shriek of pain as I do so, the thorns cutting at her, but she is fine. A few licks, and she will be,
Something behind me has just gasped.
I whirl, and see two horses, standing tall. One white, the other a dark blue if not black. They both have wings, and have a single horn on their heads, six spherical rocks floating near them. The rocks each have some design on them, and they float without reason, glowing in blue and gold. I see them both glare at me. I sense power from them. Power that terrifies me.
I try and act, dropping Mirage, opening my mouth to roar. Then a rainbow light blinds me before slowly fading again.
I…
I can’t move.
I can’t even blink as the two horses sigh and approach me. I see my paw… it’s white, and looks like… like stone. I can’t feel it.
Mirage is under me somewhere, yelling “Kitty!” over and over again. I can hear fear and panic in her tone.
She makes many angry, unhappy sounds at the two horses. She is angry, crying as she seemingly floats into my vision, gently glowing gold, wiggling in the… whatever is holding her. I note that the white one’s horn glows gold as well.
The two horses remain calm, and much is said between them, Mirage unable to be calmed. In the end, she simply quiets, glaring at the pair, angry eyes leaking tears.
Then the blue one looks at me, and I lift up into the air as that one takes flight, bring me with it somehow. I have one last sight of Mirage staring up at me, and one last cry of “Kitty!” before the sight is stolen from me.
What is this inability to act? I cannot even feel anything as we go, not the cold, not the air. Not even an urge to blink. I can do nothing save continue to see, think, and hear...
The blue horses carries me far. Flying across the land so far below. Flying is not fun when you cannot move.
She eventually comes to a mountain, and upon it is… I am not sure. More of those oddly square caves, this time made of stone, and a massive… thing like a tiny mountain rising high above the rest, all of it on the mountain’s side.
I am set on a strange ground, unable to name anything near me. The ground is made of rocks, making up an almost smooth surface somehow. There is a pattern to them. The square caves are near me, though I seem to be set away from them slightly.
The blue horses speaks something to me. Then she looks beyond me, and says something more, presumably to something behind me. She leaves, flying into the night sky, and another pony comes into vision.
It also has a horn, and I notice how that horn lights, and a rag covered in that same light floats to me.
I cannot feel it rubbing at me. Not even when it gets my eyes.
What has happened to me?