The Haunting
Admiral Biscuit
I didn’t want to spook Windflower, so I very slowly lowered my hand until it was resting on top of Milfoil’s back. Just in case it looked like I was attacking her.
Windflower was trembling but she didn’t turn and flee. She kept her eyes and ears locked on the scene in front of her, undoubtedly trying to make sense of it.
I couldn’t think of anything I could do that would be comforting to her, except for nothing. No noises, no movements—if I could force myself to look away, no eye contact. Certainly nothing that could be considered a threat either towards her or Milfoil.
The three of us probably stayed frozen like that for a couple minutes, and then Windflower took a step forward.
It wasn’t a proper step; how could it have been? Nevertheless, she moved one foreleg and then the other and more of her came into the living room, and at long last she took her eyes off me, just for a moment, turning instead to see the row of valerian and yarrow plants lined up by the window. It was the first time she’d come into the living room that I knew of since I’d put them there. Where had the flowers in the garden gone? Did she feel a bit of pride at having solved that particular puzzle?
If the living room arrangement had been a little bit different, I could have gotten up off the couch and retired to the kitchen. She and Milfoil could go over and look at the plants, since they drew her interest. But as it was, I’d have to get up and move a little bit closer to her to get into the kitchen, and I was sure that would be too much movement.
For just an instant, I wondered what she’d do if I went the other way and started grabbing flowers and yanking them out of their pots. Would she try and stop me?
If she didn’t, Milfoil would.
I should have been better prepared. I knew she’d be coming downstairs; she’d done it the past few nights. I could have had something ready for her, something else that would draw her attention, something that might demonstrate that I wasn’t a threat anymore.
Milfoil eased out from under the blanket and when she had all four hooves on the floor, she took a couple of sideways steps along the couch.
Windflower took another hesitant step forward. Now the majority of her body was in the living room, and she had the opportunity to look around more.
The fire also drew her attention, but not for long. She kept looking back at Milfoil and me, maybe making sure that we weren’t trying to sneak up on her.
She finally had had enough of her exploration, and backed into the hallway. Once her head had vanished entirely, she turned—I caught a brief glimpse of her ghostly tail—and then she was gone.
•••••
Milfoil thought she might come back. I was less sure—she’d never come back before, but then she’d never been aware of me and not fled, either. Granted, I had only one example to draw on, and in that case I’d scared her, but still.
There was more wine, and it was cozy on the couch, so there was no reason for us to cut the night short.
•••••
I hadn’t meant to spend the night on the couch with Milfoil. It had just sort of happened. As it got late, it felt like it would be rude to kick her out, and I also thought it would be rude to go up to my bedroom and leave her down in the living room all by herself.
I could have moved to my armchair; that would have been less intimate, but it wasn’t nearly as cozy.
While I was no expert on pony social customs, I thought that there was a good chance we’d moved past what was a normal relationship with a neighbor. Like so many other things, I didn’t really have an expert to ask. Milfoil was the pony I most trusted for advice, and in this case she was unlikely to be a neutral source.
•••••
I usually made a simple breakfast for myself, just eggs and toast, and I had more than enough to share.
•••••
It was snowing when I left work—it wasn’t a market day. The ponies seemed to be trying to keep the clouds over Haywards Heath, although many of them were drifting over the woods. Occasionally, they’d get wrangled and brought back to town, but it looked like if they got far enough away or weren’t producing enough snow, the pegasi just let them drift off.
It always felt colder when the sun wasn’t out, but at least there wasn’t any wind.
Right from the beginning, I should have set up a search grid. I had no idea how I’d found it so easily the first time around. I was more convinced after each day of searching and not finding that some power had led me there.
I hadn’t asked Milfoil if she’d help, but I was sure she would. I thought that she didn’t want to step on my toes.
I should have asked. I shouldn’t have to be doing this all by myself.
There was still no sign of her hollow, and I was sure that I was further to the west than I should have been. It was hard to know for sure; with the snow on the ground and the leaves off the trees, nothing looked the same as it had before.
If there had been a higher power guiding me, the problem might be that I wasn't listening like I ought to have been. The last time, I’d been distracted, unfocused, but perhaps more open to spiritual guidance. Or maybe it was because I didn’t have one of her toys.
What if her resting place was hidden from me since I didn’t have a token of hers? On Earth, that would have been a crazy thing to think, but here in Equestria is was just possible.
I hadn’t climbed a tree in years, but since there was one with inviting branches that I could get up easily enough, I thought that the additional distance it would allow me to see would be worth it. Maybe I’d find something that triggered my memory.
Sometimes the best way to find something is to not look for it. So instead of focusing on something specific, I tried to get a sense of the forest in general, a feel for the overall shape of things.
That might have worked in a story, but it didn’t work for me. There was nothing that I could see that looked anything like the little hollow where she lived.
I didn’t climb down from the tree right away. Windflower would have known I was out there, since she’d surely found the duck. Would she have made an attempt to hide her resting spot? Did she not want it to be discovered?
Maybe the thing to do would be to leave it alone until springtime, or until she led me back to it herself.
Or maybe I was just rationalizing my failure, and the right thing to do was look until I found it, even if it took me the entire winter.
The woods are a big place, and they look different in the snow, I told myself as I slogged back to my house. If nothing else, when we’ve got more trust between us, she’ll lead me back. If that’s what she wants.
What did the world look like to her now? Heck, what did the world normally look like to ponies? Real equines were colorblind. Ponies probably weren’t, since they came in so many different colors, but maybe they were and didn’t know that they were so many different colors. Or maybe they had better vision than I did, and saw things that I could not.
That had been on my mind when I’d first seen Windflower, and I’d dropped it from consideration after Milfoil had also seen her, but did she see things that I didn’t? Was I being dumb again, and if I invited Milfoil to go with me, she’d be able to track Windflower?
It wouldn’t hurt to ask. At the very worst, there would be two of us bumbling through the woods instead of just me.
•••••
Milfoil didn’t hesitate at all when I asked, and once I got home from work, the two of us set out into the woods. It was snowing again, and she wore a hat and scarf and a set of snow boots. That seemed like overkill; surely her shoes would be plenty. If she wore them, that is. I realized that I didn’t know for sure; since the old stallion wore shoes, I’d made the assumption that all ponies did, but I hadn’t really looked that closely at her hooves, or else I had seen and I just hadn’t really noticed. And now that I was wondering about it, it was going to bug me until I did get a look.
The new snow covered the tracks I’d made before, and I regretted not using the ribbon to mark where Windflower wasn’t.
We probably spent more time talking than looking, and concluded that it was impossible to know for sure if our vision was equivalent or different by just discussing it. I thought about trying to make some color blindness tests, but I didn’t know the science behind it well enough to prove anything. Still, if they had them for ponies, I could see if I could pass it, and that might tell me something.
Milfoil wasn’t sure if they existed—she’d never taken one—but told me that there was an eye doctor who came around every month or so and that I could ask him.
She did have a better sense of smell and better hearing than I did, which I thought was unfair.
We stayed out later than I would have by myself, and didn’t get back to town until after dark. The clouds had cleared and the moon was out, so we weren’t stumbling through the woods.
Ironically, it was Windflower who guided us home. I spotted her as we came across a ridge, and the two of us both watched for a moment as she glided across the snow, her front legs moving across a ground she no longer touched.
When she was almost out of view, I tied two ribbons to a tree, and then the two of us jogged along behind her.
“Do you think she’ll be mad that there isn’t a fire?”
“I don’t know.” Milfoil was in better shape than I was, or quadrupeds were natural sprinters. “I don’t think so. She might wonder why not, though. We’ll want to be cautious when we go in the house.”
“Just opening the door shouldn’t scare her. She knows you live there.”
“I’m not sure if she does.” I ducked under a branch. “She should.”
“I’ll go in first, and get a fire going, if she hasn’t come downstairs yet. If she has, we’ll play it by ear.”
“I don’t want to scare her. Can you give me some kind of a sign when you want me to come in the living room? Wag your tail or something?”
“I’m not a dog.”
“I’m not implying . . . I haven’t got a tail, I don’t know what you call all your tail movements, okay? Something like a dog wagging its tail; that’s something I can understand. Like a happy wag, not an angry sort of thing.” Did dogs have an angry tail-wag? They probably did.
Milfoil sighed. “I’ll . . . I guess I can wag my tail. If I have to.”