Amber's View
A merry tune chirps from the radio as I drive around in my colorful 2CV, pointing the sights along the bumpy road to my little twin sister. She gets excited for a big wide field sprinkled with poppies red just like our eyes, so we park on the side, and she canters forth into the tall grass, quickly vanishing from view...
I go after her, knowing perfectly well in which direction she went, and yet when I arrive in the middle of the field it's a green-maned stallion I find... Oh, but it's Sweetchard!
As I trot up to him, I have just enough lucidity to realize that the world around us is warping, becoming nightmarishly familiar...
“Sir, are you all right?”, I hear Amber Spire asking, just like every single time... And like every single time, he just didn't hear me, despite being wide awake. “Sir, we have to move! I can get you away from the monster, but you have to listen to me!”
If only this time he'd listen... Come on Sweetchard, you're not like this, you're strong, you can do it..!
But it's all for naught...
“I'm afraid this one is quite past the point of caring about that, little mare...”
My blood turned to ice at the sound of that deep, resounding voice.
No..!
The same voice as the laughs. From just behind me.
Please no..!
I couldn't breathe, and I didn't have the strength to either bolt forward, or turn to face the monster.
NO! This time it won't be like that! This time I'll fight it and win! I'll end the nightmare by myself!
I try to chase the images away, or at least to have my dream-self act differently and stop the nightmare before its conclusion, but it only seems to hasten the inevitable, excruciating end..!
“Why looking so pale, little mare?”, Discord laughs at Amber Spire, at me, at us, because he knows that even in dreams, I could never beat him..!
What should I do!? How could I escape from this monster!?
There has to be a way..! There's always a way! Why can't I just wake up!?
It... It didn't work!! IT DIDN'T WORK!!
“... Do you even know what you're doing anymore?”, the monster asked, sounding almost bored now.[i/]
“No I don't!!”, I screamed back with dreadful honesty, releasing the last attack my magic wellspring would allow me today, the migraine starting to pound at my skull.
I tried everything, but there's nothing I can do..! Amber is going to die again, and I can't do anything..!
The cruel talons clamped around my neck, biting into my flesh, and I was lifted from the ground. Regardless of my own brave thoughts, fear started to overtake me.
I couldn't escape...
I was going to die..!
Discord brought me to face level, but I looked away, too afraid to see my last moments reflected into his vicious, sadistic eyes..!
That's when I saw the pony, a Guard, standing at a window overlooking the gardens...
Please Sarge, save her..! Save me!
She was jumping to my help, but it was too late... The fear, and everything else, was washed away by the blinding, horrible light, as wicked, evil words echoed into what was left of my mind, and etched themselves deep into my heart...
“For Five Score! Divided by Four!”'
No!! I don't want to listen, wake up Amber!!
“Your Memories Removed! Your Body Confused!”
“For your insolence you must pay, cast off to a land far far away!”
The incomprehensible sentences keep on assaulting me, even as the rest of nightmare disintegrates and I feel a strange restrain constricting my chest..!
“Your mind shall be weak, your outlooks bleak!”
“Forgetting everything and—”
To my eternal relief, the end of the dreadful chant is cut short as I lurch forward, the restrain loosening just a little. I feel woozy almost to the point of nausea, but I'm finally awake..!
I clutch the warm body against me, burying my snout into the soft fur so thoroughly imbued with Mom's scent. As my nostrils flare with each inhale, my heartbeat grows less frantic, and the nightmare's painful tension slowly fades away...
Each time I try vainly to escape its foregone conclusion, and each time I fail, but at least it's over now. I snuggle more peacefully at Mom's side, the minibus's rocking lulling me back towards sleep, and—
Wait... 'Mom'..?
My eyes flutter open. I'm greeted by the purple fur of Violette's barrel, still fragrant from her comforting scent.
Violette...
Mom...
It... It doesn't feel wrong, despite the convoluted nature of our relationship. She's Mom... 'Of course she is', my instinct whispers, but... Is Amber Spire's essence really taking so strong a hold on my feelings, on my thoughts? My body, my species, my whole outlook on life, now my family... At least I'm lucky enough that my real name hasn't been too mangled in the process! Even these slivers of her last moments, endlessly repeated almost every time I go to sleep, are affecting my memories...
I was surprised to realize that the more I'm growing accustomed to the nightmares, the more I get this strange feeling that they echo other bad dreams I may've had in the past, with the same general themes of pointless resistance and desperate circumstances, and maybe even some commonalities in feels and actions... But I suppose that, in all likelihood, this is just a mix of coincidences brought upon by my own lived experiences, and my mind now re-contextualizing elements of my past to mesh with the current ones.
So much melding between this dead unicorn and me... If we can ever reclaim our real human bodies, what of 'me' will really be left after such an intimate and all-encompassing experience..?
“Everything's all right?”, asks Mo– Violette asks, nuzzling the top of my head. Her voice is so warm, so affectionate...
“Yeah, I'm all right...”, I mumble. “Must've dozed off...”
“That you did. You had a bad night?”
“No, just... I liked to sleep in before, but now I feel like I could take naps even in the middle of the day..!”
She chuckles, ruffling my mane: “One bright side is that the trip must feel all the shorter, right?”
“Oh, are we there yet?” I sit up straight, twisting to make the seat belt a bit less restraining, and gaze through the tinted glass of the side window. We're still driving at a steady speed, though now the highways have been replaced by country roads. All around us are fields stretching over the hilly landscape, patches of forest reigning over the steepest slopes, and light, flatish rocky expanses visible high up in the distance. It's quite the rustic tableau, with the only human settlements being isolated farms or small villages nested at the bottom of vales. I've no issue picturing a charming little pony haven hidden somewhere among the trees, but clearly we haven't reached our destination quite yet.
“We should get there soon enough.”, Violette confirms. She joins me in peering through the window: “Liking the view so far?”
“It certainly looks as bucolic as I could expect! I've lived so long in a concrete jungle, I... Well, it's going to be different, that's for sure.”
“I get what you mean.”, she smiles. “I just hope the amenities are a tad more elaborate than a well and outhouse!”
“Oh please don't jinx it..!”, Crispy groans from the seats in front of ours.
Sweetchard laughs from next to her: “Don't worry honeybunch, even if we have to deal with country life for a bit, we'll just build everything we need!”
I hear Laurence snorting on the other side of the minibus, but she doesn't comment further. Well, if we're to stay there for a while, I see nothing wrong with trying to improve the place. After all, we did a lot of good work to renovate our previous abode, with even more ponies I'm sure we'll be able to accomplish whatever we put our minds and hooves to!
“Maybe we could even get our own houses, pony-sized?”, Bilberry chimes in from the seat next to Laurence's, the young earth pony sounding quite excited at the prospect.
“We will have to hold our plans until we arrive and talk to whoever is in charge.”, Mom cautions. “I don't know much except that it is a large terrain with a disused farm and a house.”
“Fields and old buildings, that's everything we need, right Alex?”, Sweetchard boasts, standing taller to address the American stallion in the back of the minibus.
“I would not mind a little more infrastructure..!”, the blue-maned pegasus jokes back in his thick accent. Sassaflash, his compatriot, is quick to request a translation as she's far from being fluent yet, then starts grousing about something I can't quite get. If they can't be sent home in a timely fashion, she'll probably have to improve her French; it mustn't be pleasant to always have this language barrier between oneself and others.
The lively conversation goes on, but soon my attention shifts back to the scenery drawing past the windows. It really is a nice view; I certainly could think of worst places to hide and lay low! And it's funny, in some way I feel like I'm back years ago, when the whole family would go on vacation... Though these days the seat belts press far less pleasantly against my chest, and the seats themselves are a poor fit for my changed anatomy. It'll definitively feel nice to get out and stretch my legs!
And so our trip continues smoothly, as the roads become less broad, a little more rough, and the fields are occulted by walls of trees. We slow down, taking some twists and turns, before stopping in the middle of nowhere, the dense foliage casting us in the shadows. Through the windshield of our vehicle, I see that we've pulled up in front of an old wooden fence, like the type used for holding livestock. The foreboding image is tempered by the battered yet colorful mailbox fastened to one of the posts, and from the other side of the fence comes a waving, smiling, ocher-skinned young woman. Our driver waves back, and the woman pulls the fence gate open for us, staying behind while we venture deeper along the dirt path.
Finally, sunlight pours from behind the leaves as the forest opens into a verdant clearing, and the minibus parks itself on the side of the path. “That's it folks!”, calls our friendly driver. “I can't do a U-turn beyond this point, so I drop you here and you'll get the rest on foot.”
Well, I did want to stretch my legs, so I've no cause to complain... Though it seems Violette doesn't share my opinion: “Is that absolutely necessary? We have quite a bit of luggage with us.”
“Trust me Ma'am, I've done this before, and last time was a real hassle – it's more practical this way. Don't worry, it's just a short walk.”
Mom is clearly no satisfied with that answer, but lets the issue drop. We unbuckle, retrieve our various bags, and file out of the vehicle via the front entrance.
I savor the moment my hooves touch upon the ground, the long unkempt grass tickling me from frogs to fetlocks, tilting my head back as I fill my lungs with the dizzying array of earthy wafts carried by the cool air. I don't know if this is normal for a city girl to feel so overwhelmed or if it's my keener pony senses, but this is just—
“Hey, watch what you're doin', blondie..!”, Bilberry chides me from behind. I blush and mutter a hasty apology, after realizing I almost levitated my backpack into her face and am still obstructing the exit.
Once everypony's clear, the minibus easily turns back onto the path; the driver waves his hand through the window in farewell, and we respond in kind. We're lucky to have so many nice persons ready to help us deal with our unusual situation... It's more or less necessary, considering that we can hardly go to the closest supermarket to buy ourselves some food! I hope not too many ponies had to manage everything without human assistance. It's already perilous enough to be a pony when some people hunt us like dangerous animals...
Anyway, enough depressing thoughts for now; we have lots of new ponies to meet, and luggage to carry! So I turn away from the forest, and the already distant minibus, to face the last leg of our trip.
I can't help the grin blossoming on my lips at the view in front of us: our grassy clearing is cut by a low wall of old mossy stones, separating the edge of the forest from the wide fallow fields dotted with wild flowers, the dirt path snaking up the hillock on which the farmstead sits. From here I can clearly see the long house of grayish bricks, but behind it the large wooden shape of a barn is just barely visible, hidden by a big tree. The forest wraps around the fields and the farm, and continues further away over the hills, before breaking away to reveal other fields in the far distance, encroaching on the slopes of a rocky plateau.
Our little arcadian pony haven... Well, it looks pretty much how I expected it to! I hope that book will prove just as good as its cover.
My ears call for my focus to shift towards Mom, standing at my side: “I suppose this is home now...”, she whispers. Her tone was bittersweet, but the next instant she's back to all smiles as she addresses our little group: “All right, this is it my friends: Coursac, our pony sanctuary! I know this must be a big change for most of you, but I can assure you that everything will be done to ensure our security and our comfort, for as long as we need to stay here. Now let's go meet our new neighbors!”
She gets onto the path with a spring in her step, her suitcase and bags hovering after her. What is she packing really, to have brought so much stuff? She doesn't wear any clothes! Even Laurence, who does, is content with just one large sports bag...
Looking back at the aforementioned pegasus, I'm surprised that she made no move to follow, and I'm not sure what to make of her expression beyond 'preoccupied'. Maybe it doesn't help that my attention always drifts towards that black eye patch her sister gave her just before we left Toulouse... I thought it was in poor taste, but for some reason Laurence actually seems to be quite fond of it, and I'll admit it does look better than the previous bunch of bandages.
“Is something wrong, Laurence..?”, I ask, inching towards her.
“Uh?”, she starts, before schooling her expression back to something more neutral: “Oh, it's nothing.”
... Yeah, not buying it. “You know you can talk to me, right?”
This earns me a little smile: “I do. I guess I'm just a bit anxious, that's all.”
“Hey you two, you're comin' or what?”, Sweetchard calls; he's waiting by the stone wall, his and Crispy's bags resting on his back, while the others are already further along the path. This time Laurence moves along, and as the three of us leave the clearing behind, I can see more than a dozen colorful shapes starting to come out of the buildings up ahead, some even taking to the air. Gosh, I've never seen so many ponies in one place before!
The unicorns and earth ponies gather in a loose half-circle at the end of the path, a couple pegasi hovering above, all waiting for us except for an eager light teal filly who flies down the hillock. “Welcome!”, she greets the first part of our group, then pirouettes to our level, looking happy as can be: “Welcome! Good morning!”
“Good morning!”, Sweetchard and I greet back, waving a forehoof.
The teen pegasus giggles, and after flitting in circles over us she alights beside her friends just as ours reach the top. Hoofshakes and warm, happy words are exchanged, lively conversation breaking out as everypony meet. I can see that they come in all shapes, sizes and colors, though there's a majority of earth ponies. The youngest foals must be around five or six, while the oldest mare looks a bit older than Mom.
However, from the corner of my eye, I notice that Laurence is walking slower and slower the closer we get, her neck stiff and ears menacing to pull back. Oh, was this what she was anxious about? I forgot she's not really comfortable with social situations.
Swerving slightly to get to her side, I whisper: “I'm right here with you...”
Laurence doesn't answer directly, but her stance relaxes, if ever so slightly. Maybe it's only to my benefit in the end, to not show an overt weakness, but the effort's still real. I'll admit that I too am a little nervous, being confronted to so many unknown ponies all at once, but I suppose that the quicker that's dealt with the better, right?
Getting to the end of the path, and the front of the farmstead, I better understand why our driver didn't want to push the minibus all the way up: there's really not enough space to maneuver a big vehicle here without going over the luxuriant vegetable gardens sprawling left and right. Clearly the local ponies have already gotten to improve the place, but all my attention is pulled from glancing around to the first one greeting me.
She's the eldest earth pony, a plump mare just a bit taller than I am, her pistachio eyes sparkling with warmth and quick wits. I can plainly feel her substantial strength as we shake hooves: “Welcome to Coursac filly, the name's Fenchone!”
“I, er, I'm Amber, Amber Spire, nice to meet you!”, I reply awkwardly, after suddenly realizing I hadn't planned on how I wanted to introduce myself. Nobody's calling me 'Ambre' anymore, and adding the 'Spire' makes it a little more formal I suppose? Fortunately, like I expected each new greeting makes the next easier, and I wade through that flurry of new faces, names both human- and pony-style jumbling in my head as I repeat 'Amber Spire' at least fifteen more times. All along I try to keep track of how Laurence is doing, but apart from not looking ponies in the eyes she performs quite well. That doesn't prevent her from letting out a rumbling and none-too-discreet sigh once we're done, sure, but... Well, it's done now, it's what's important!
“Alright ponies,” Fenchone declares after stomping sharply at the ground for our attention, “now that our new friends are here, let's all prep lunch and get to know each other!”
The announcement is met by happy cheers, and the equine throng migrates merrily towards the house, carrying us with it; Mom and I are separated from the rest of our group, as the local unicorns are already entreating us to talk about our magical talents and cutie marks. Looking for Laurence, I catch sight of the top of her mane on the other side of the moving crowd, as she's been cornered by the pegasi.
I can't help but bite my lip, noticing that her ears are most definitely folded back now...
Sweetchard's View
I walk out of the garage-turned-lunchroom through the half-opened doors, leaving the chatter of ponies and the remaining food fumes behind. Back to the front of the house, I take unabashed delight breathing in that clean, fresh country air, full of the smells of so many different plants!
My right ear twitches a little, as I notice what sounds like wood splintering and something heavy falling in the far distance, but that's probably normal when you're living surrounded by a forest... Heck, maybe we'll have to get our own timber from these trees anyway!
Seriously, it's crazy how I'm already so happy to be here! First there's all our new friends of course, but there's also the place itself – it looks so much better than our little Toulousian orchard, and those fields just beg to be seeded with crops! If I'm to judge based on the produce they already grew here and that we got to eat at lunch, it's gonna be absolutely delicious! Sure, we can't grow everything, and just like today a good portion of our food's gonna be store-brought, like rice, pasta, oats or bread, but that'd still be something!
I couldn't help much with the cooking today, as each pony has their habits in the cramped kitchen, but I tried to redeem myself with the washing-up. It's all good ol' earthenware, so I did my best to be careful with my hooves! Later this afternoon I'll have to see what I can do around here, I want to be useful to our little pony community.
Well, not just 'pony', actually. I was a bit surprised to see that we aren't an all-pony household, besides the mule or donkey guy and the little stripped foal who could be some sort of zebra. As it turns out, Fenchone's human grandparents are the owners of the place, and still live here. They're both very nice old people, but after our, uh, let's say 'tense' interaction with some humans recently, I was worried how Crispy would react... In the end, she just acted like they weren't here, keeping to the pony side of the house. Not that it was especially hard to do, as the local equines are a really friendly bunch! In fact, Crispy, Bilberry and I have been kinda hogged by the other earth ponies, though that's because pegasi and unicorns prefer to stay among themselves, apparently, so earth ponies try to look just as close-knit.
Our arrival did add a little something that pulled the three tribes together, though! Even standing outside, I can hear the laughs coming all the way from the room were Sassie found a big mirror. The American mare is still drinking in the attention, as she goads each of our new friends to pass her mirror test. At least it makes everypony happy, which compensates for Rafale's usual sour mood. She skedaddled as soon as she had the opportunity, after volunteering to help carry the fruits for dessert. Maybe she went with Fenchone? I can't see them anywhere right now...
Finally, Crispy and Bilberry join me in front of the house, accompanied by the newly rechristened Fleur de Bruyère, a soft-spoken and thoughtful young mare who proposed herself for showing us around. Though now that I think of it, why did she get to have a pony with a Prench– uh, I mean, French name? And she wasn't the only one either! That's so unfair..!
Anyways...
“The others aren't coming?”, I ask the mares.
“Nope.”, Bilberry answers with a shrug. “The unicorns are busy flaunting their spells, and Alex is still on translator duty.”
“Sassaflash's mirror trick is quite popular, as it turns out.”, Crispy adds.
“I can hear that, yeah... I hope this time she takes the time to explain what it means!”
That gets my mare to roll her eyes: “Oh don't worry, she was quick to get our hosts to understand that she's 'official', and that we are not...”
“I'm surprised she didn't tell you sooner, to be honest.”, Bilberry remarks. “That's, like, the first thing she showed us when we met, she's pretty proud of it.”
“Well, she did say something,” Crispy admits, “but I didn't understand what she meant at the time...”
“So it is true..?”, Fleur de Bruyère wonders. “We've really been taken over by ponies from another world?”
“Eeyup!”, I reply with a smile, but she doesn't seem to catch the reference. “Though I prefer to see it as granting them asylum, you know?”
“I guess it does sound better that way... We didn't believe Léa– I mean Marnepâle, when she was telling us we were just like this cartoon she's a fan of. Even now it's, well, it'd still be hard to believe if we weren't living it... Anyways! Let's begin our tour, shall we?”
Eh, I can understand that it's something pretty wild and difficult to accept at first, but she'll get used to it! Seeing her walking around and interacting with other ponies, comfortable in her own skin and with a new, cute name she likes, I've no doubts on the matter!
We follow after Fleur, rounding the corner and arriving in front of a patch of flat land sitting between the house, a large wooden barn, and a massive oak tree. Like on the front side of the house, vegetable and herb gardens occupy most of the space and are positively teeming with greenery – most of which I'm unable to identify yet besides lettuce, parsley and basil.
“So, we still depend a lot on human helpers like Fenchone's folks for many things, including food, that's why some of us started these gardens.”, Fleur comments as we walk towards the barn. “It's a good pastime, and as you can see it's going quite well in both quantity and quality! And now that we have so many new hooves available, there's talk to make use of all the fields around us.”
I couldn't agree more with this idea! “The most food we can grow ourselves, the less we have to get from elsewhere!”
“Exactly.”, Fleur nods with a smile. “On this subject, we've pooled all our money together to buy the things we need. It's not exactly... required, but it'd be appreciated, you know? None of us have a stable source of income anymore, after everything that happened, and, well... You get the idea, I'm sure.”
Yeah... This sounds a bit too communist-y for my tastes, but at least I'm relieved that I had the good sense of asking Sébastien to empty my account.
“I would be glad to help managing our funds, if need be.”, Crispy chimes in. “I have some experience in accounting and business management.”
“Then you'll have to talk to Fenchone about it, she's more or less in charge here; I'm sure she'd appreciate the help!”
We arrive in front of the barn. Overall it shows its age, but there's plain evidence of lots of little recent fixes. Fleur pulls the door open, motioning for us to enter: “The garage of the house often acts as a communal space, as you saw during lunch, but this is where we sleep most of the time.”
The inside is heavy with the mingled scents of many ponies, some I recognize easily from lunch. Most of the barn floor has been cleared to make way for piles of pillows, stacks of luggage, and an area with a low table that must serve as some sort of living room. Colorful drawings are pinned on the walls, maybe to compensate for the absence of windows, and there's even a couple children's toys laying around.
“Are we, uh, all sleeping on top of each other..?”, Bilberry asks, looking dubiously at the pillow piles.
Fleur seems surprised by the question at first, then a little embarrassed: “Well... I don't know how it is for you, but some of us still have issues with the nightmares, especially the foals, so... It feels better, to sleep knowing you have your friends right beside you. But don't worry, usually mares, stallions, and foals all have their own sides, same for race; there's plenty of space if you need it.”
“Race?”, I repeat. “What do you mean?”
“You see up there?” Fleur points up at the loft under the roof, where people stocked hay in the past. “They call it 'Pégase Palace', from what I've heard. Maybe it's the bird in them, but all the pegasi I know enjoy sleeping well above ground, so they have their own things. Oh, and over there is 'Poudlard', the unicorns' side.”, she says, now pointing at a wooden screen isolating a corner of the barn, under the loft.
“Uh, why the screen..?”
“You never bunked with a unicorn before? Some of them can practice their magic well into the night, which causes quite the lightshow. And sometimes, when a spell backfires, you're happy to have a screen between you and them, let me tell you!” She giggles, but quickly restrains herself: “Sorry, that, uh, that was mean...”
“Hey, if it's the truth, it's the truth!”, Bilberry smirks. “I remember it was a bad idea to let your stuff laying around when Violette had a sudden urge to experiment!”
The two young mares share a knowing, amused glance, before Fleur guides us back towards the entrance of the barn. “So, that's it for your new sleeping quarters, at least for the time being. It's okay, overall, but we fear the roof covering will have to be changed – that's the main project for this week. And if our situation doesn't change in the coming months, we will have to deal with more important modifications, and that wouldn't be cheap...”
Back outside, Crispy gestures at the gardens: “If our agricultural efforts pay off, maybe we could grow enough surplus to sell locally? That would improve our finances, if only a little.”
“Well, that's maybe putting the cart before the pony, but the idea's still sound I guess. Now, if you would follow me, I'll show you the bathroom!”
Fleur's 'bathroom' turns out to be located between the back of the barn and the forest. We arrive to find a concrete well, still old but decidedly a little less rural-looking than the rest of the farm, with an electric water pump and a simple garden hose.
As I could expect, Crispy isn't exactly thrilled by the view: “This is... the bathroom..?”
“I'm afraid so. It's pretty bare-bones, and I don't recommend drinking the water, but it's still functional as long as we don't overuse it. Then, if you go a little way into the woods, you'll find the latrines.” Fleur flinches at Crispy's outraged look: “Yes, I know it's not, well... particularly glamorous, but that's the best solution we have right now. The house's wastewater system just isn't made for supporting so many ponies.”
“Yeah, without being linked to public water and sewer systems we don't have much of a choice...”, Bilberry mutters. “Is there any plan to install, I don't know, something like a rainwater tank maybe?”
“Actually the house already has a small one, but yes, we're currently looking for a suitably large tank to add to the barn. It should work well with the new guttering we want to install when we'll redo the roof! By the way, this here is where we stock most of our tools and materials.”, Fleur says, moving towards the back of the house, where we find a small wooden shed surrounded by heaps of various stuff like asphalt shingles, lumber, and—
Wait, what's this..?
I walk slowly towards that large green plastic tarp that seems to move on its own.
Pretty sure it's not the wind... Did some wild animal get under it? If money's so short right now we can't afford to have our things damaged!
The movements stop as I get closer. I bump the tarp with a forehoof, but that's not enough to get whatever's under to scamper away...
Well, I'm a big strong stallion, I won't be afraid of a little critter!
Nipping the tarp gingerly, I pull it away with a quick flick of the neck—
“Hey! Put that back in place, would you!?”
I blink, not having expected to find Rafale crouched under that tarp, reading on her smartphone with her unsettling feather stylus. “What the heck are you doing here!?”, I blurt out.
“Laurence..? Are you alright?”, Bilberry asks, bemused.
“No, the coverage's lousy here, I can barely access Internet!”
Seriously..? “I don't think that's what she meant...”
Rafale has the nerve to look angry at us: “It's these winged fiends, they're harassing me..! Go away before they find me!”
*sigh*
Are we really back to this kind of silliness..? “Come on, they just want to know you a little better, that's all!”
“Well I don't.”, she grumbles. “Now would you please leave me alone?”
I'm sorely tempted to just kick her out of her hiding spot for acting like this, but at the same time I don't really want to make a scene, especially in front of a new friend... So, in the end, I choose to do what she says, and a snickering Bilberry helps me in putting the tarp back over her.
Gosh that was embarrassing. Way to go about making a good impression, stupid pegasus! I can't tell if Fleur's scrunched up muzzle is a sign of amusement or revulsion...
“Your friend is... peculiar.”, the young mare finally says as we walk back towards the front of the house. 'Peculiar'... I bet she had a far less neutral word in mind!
“It's just Laurence.”, Bilberry shrugs. “She's not really into the whole pony thing, that's all.”
“Well, I guess we all have our weirdos... Ah, Fenchone's back!”
Glancing towards where Fleur's pointing, we do see the matronly earth pony trotting out of the woods on the other side of the fields. She excused herself during lunch, looking a bit queasy, but as she spots and comes to meet us, she appears quite healthy.
“So, getting a little tour already?”, she smiles. “I hope you're happy with what you saw?”
“Yeah it's pretty great!”, I answer eagerly. Only then do I notice the dust and grime on her vermilion legs, and the slight sheen of sweat on her muzzle... “Are you okay?”
“Oh yes, yes, don't concern yourself! I had a little run, that's all, I was just going to wash it out.”
Curious time for a 'little run', but that's not really my business I guess...
“Thank you for showing them around filly,” she tells Fleur, “I'll take it from here.”
Fleur excuses herself, and after Fenchone takes time to clean herself a bit in the 'bathroom' she leads us to sit under the big oak tree:
“So,” the elder mare begins, growing more serious, “you probably saw that our little paradise still has some slight details that need to be ironed out, right?”
“The facilities are somewhat rudimentary, yes.”, Crispy agrees.
“But it's alright,” I'm quick to add, “we knew that it wouldn't be, like, a luxury resort or something!”
“To say the least...”, Fenchone chuckles. “All your expenses are covered, of course, but in return I expect that you'll give at least some of your time to help around the farm in whatever way you can. Right now it's up to us to improve our own quality of life, after all.”
“Obviously; we wouldn't want to be mistaken for freeloaders.”, my mare nods. “It's important for all of us to contribute adequately. Speaking of, Fleur told us that your finances are managed communally?”
“Yes, until the government accepts to allocate some funds for us we need to carefully budget our resources, and it's easier when we have a clear view of everything that's on the table.”
Uh? “Wait, the government doesn't help? I thought this 'sanctuary' thing was their own project!”
Fenchone sighs ruefully. “Actually, our current agreement with the authorities doesn't really extend further than, to put it bluntly, them stopping treating us like dangerous pests as long as we keep a low profile and do not stray out of the 'sanctuary', as you called it. Don't get me wrong, we do have allies working tirelessly to help us, and it's thanks to these connections that my request to turn this place into the southern 'sanctuary' was accepted, but things still move slowly, and we need to behave...”
“What do you mean exactly by 'behave'..?”, Bilberry inquires with a frown.
“Just what I said: we keep to the allocated zone, that is the farm grounds and parts of the woods, make ourselves scarce, and in return we're just under relaxed surveillance from local officials. We're isolated and in the middle of a natural park, and for now it works out pretty well. So, you can take a walk in the woods if it catches your fancy, but abstain from going too far in case you were seen. Oh, and by the way,” she adds like an afterthought, “if you do take to meandering around, please be cautious where you put your hooves near the north-west rises, there's a dangerous aven there – tell your friends too while you're at it.”
“An... 'aven'? What's that?”
“A natural sinkhole basically, there's lots of them in the region as it's very karstic. Many animals fall into them routinely, so pay attention to where you're goin', alright? I don't want dead ponies, or worse.”
Well that's reassuring. More reasons to keep to the farm..!
Crispy starts discussing the finer points of money management for the community and how she could help, but I find my attention easily drifting to the gardens around us, and beyond to the green fields so full of promises...
I've lived my whole life in gray cities, where the wildest slices of nature were poorly-maintained public parks, and yet I feel right at home here in the middle of nowhere... Is it my cutie mark telling me what I should do, at last? Does this look like the place where the original Sweetchard lived? In my dreams he always struck me as sorely out of place in the stony confines of Canterlot, more suited to the earthy outdoors.
The cutie mark he gave me represents a trio of vegetables, was he a farmer? Would I have inherited his talent? His skills? My hooves rest atop the soft, fertile soil, and it feels right. This is what Sweetchard would do I'm sure – caring for the land, nurturing what would grow on it, sharing the fruits of his hard work.
A simple, successful life...
What more could I ever want?
I'm brought back to the here and now by Crispy, as she nuzzles my snout: “Daydreaming, Sweety?”
“Nah, it's only a dream if you're in it..!”, I reply, nuzzling her back. Glancing quickly around us, I'm surprised to see that Fenchone and Bilberry have left, walking away while discussing some thing or the other. Gosh, I really was seriously daydreaming here!
I shift my full focus back on my mare and her dazzling blue eyes. She's so beautiful, I'm so darn lucky to have her..! Here, sitting on the grass, leaning against each other, it's easy to forget everything else...
Acting as if nothing happened...
We're among ponies now, almost completely free of human presence, everything should go swimmingly from now on anyway, right? No humans to threaten us, capture us, harm us... Crispy has no reason to be anything but happy and content, no cause to fight against the others or...
Or...
“So! What do you think, honeybunch?”, I ask to cut short and thoroughly trample my previous line of thought, gesturing with a hoof at the farm around us.
“I will say that it is... not worse than what I feared.”, she answers with a wry smile.
“Eh... That's one way to put it, I guess.”
It's true that our 'sanctuary' is far from being ideal. Thinking about all there is to do, and how long we will have to live without so many little pieces of the comfort we're used to, it is a bit daunting... But all the same, that's nothing that should be beyond me, right? If you have the will, if you work hard enough, a strong stallion like me should be able to accomplish anything!
“And what would be your own take on our new home?”, Crispy wonders, as we watch sedately how the leaves and flowers dance in the gentle wind.
“There's lots to do, but I'm willing to work and make the best of our situation!”, I reply with a confident smile. “I don't know you, but this place, despite its flaws, I really like it, it almost calls to me. I think here I'll really be able to try and bring out the pony in me, to live up to my cutie mark, just as Sweetchard would do!”
Her snort would almost sound derisive if I didn't know better. “Sweety, you have to remember that we're not really these ponies... We share their physical template, sure, but that's about it. These cutie marks are theirs, not ours.”
“Yet we share their name, too... Their love...”, I counter, looking deep into her eyes.
“Oh Sweety...”, she sighs, tracing the line of my jaw with a forehoof, “they only gave us an opportunity. It was our choice to make it a reality...”
As one we press snouts, reveling in each other's being. “And I love this reality...”, I whisper.
Our deliciously carefree moment is marred by some commotion coming from behind us. Looking back with more than a little irritation, I can't help but groan at the scene: a furious Rafale making off from her hiding spot, with two of the pegasi fluttering on her heels, trying to talk to her.
I'm tempted to just let it go, but the very last thing we need is Rafale being pushed into acting violently, so with a grunt I get up and canter up to the trio: “Come on ponies, give her some space! She's old and she gets cranky if you interrupt her early afternoon nap!”
The two pegasi glance at each other before landing in front of me. One of them is the energetic teal filly who flew over us this morning, while the other is a stallion around my age, of burnt gold coat and athletic features – according to the mirror, Misty Down and Golden Gale, respectively. The former is too occupied by pouting something fierce, so it's the 'only' slightly peeved stallion who answers me: “We didn't want to bother her, we just wanted to know what she was up to! Like, we barely had the chance to talk at lunch!”
“Yeah I understand man, but cranky.”, I repeat with a wink. “You'll have better luck once she's rested, trust me.”
I'm not sure they completely buy it until the filly takes off with a huff, and her companion soon follows, casting an almost hurt look Rafale's way. Rafale who, as I turn towards her, graces me with one of her squints for my troubles:
“... I'm not sure if I should thank you or not.”, she mutters, eyebrow raised critically.
I shrug, a smirk quickly overtaking my lips: “What? You're cranky when ponies bother you, was that a lie?”
She just keeps on squinting for a moment, before her features soften just a bit: “All right, thank you... You probably made them go quicker than I would have by myself.”
I walk in front of her before she can slink away without another word: “You know, you can't really fault them from just trying to be amicable and get to know you better. And with the new eyepatch you look even more interesting and plain badass than usual!”
“Yes, I know, but that's no excuse!”, she snaps. “They have Alex and Sassie, why can't they just leave me alone and stop forcing this on me!?”
“Like I said, they just want to know you better – they were doing the same with us in case you didn't notice!”
“Sweety's right, Laurence.”, Crispy adds as she joins us. “Most of the ponies here only wish to help us integrate into their community, to be our friends. Is it so hard to try to act in kind?”
“Yes!”, the pegasus blurts out in disbelief. “How can you be all so... So effortlessly friendly and stuff!?”
Crispy tilts her head, clearly not getting what Rafale's complaining about. For my part, I can't help a small and most appropriate quip: “Don't ya know? Friendship is magic!”
Yeah, this time I kinda deserved the squint, but it was worth it!
Still trying to parse the pegasus's question, Crispy gives a tentative answer: “I don't know, I suppose it comes naturally... Why?”
An answer that clearly doesn't satisfy the cranky mare: “But you've never seen any of these ponies before, how can you just be so... Open, and chatty?”
“Well, because we're just meeting..?”, Crispy retorts, bemused. “That's more or less the best way to go at it.”
“But seriously, you act all smiles and everything but they're virtually strangers! Just as we are strangers to them! How do you manage this!?”
Is she... Is she not even able to fathom that ponies could just be nice to each other? “... You're really a sad pony, Laurence...”
“That's probably because I'm not a pony, Sweetchard.”, she shoots back with icy anger in her voice.
Come on Chard, humor her, you tried to prevent a fight in the first place, don't go about starting another... “Alright, you're just a sad person, then..!”
But that doesn't offend her any less it seems: “Why,” she scoffs, “just because I don't act as if complete strangers were lifelong friends!?”
“Well that'd be the first point, yeah.”, I answer sharply, eyes narrowing. “Then there'd be the constant peevishness, the irritability, and other relevant multi-syllables words for which I don't have a thesaurus right now..!”
“All right you two, enough of this.”, Crispy chides us both as she stands between me and the other mare. “Can't we just talk without snapping at each other?”
“She's the one who started it!”
Okay, even to me it sounded lame...
Rafale snorts with an air of finality, and this time I don't try to stop the balky pegasus as she walks away from us, to go and hide in some dark, friendless corner... Well good for her, if it's what she wants!
Gosh this is so frustrating..!
Crispy must be reading my mood, as she softly brushes a forehoof along my leg. “At least we tried, Sweety.”
“But she's so... So..!” Urgh, I can't even find the words!!
“Yes, I know, that's why for the time being it falls on us to be the better ponies. In time, I'm sure she'll come around. Maybe she just has to accept that this is her life from now on, to get to learn to appreciate the good parts..?”
“You must be right...”, I sigh.
Together we amble back towards the house. Sassie's moment in the limelight should probably be over by now, so we'll be able to get on with the day. I'm not sure what we'll be working on this afternoon, but I'm eager to start!
Working on something has always been a good way of clearing my mind, after all.
Laurence's View
A foal whimpers as thunder rumbles again, the lively tunes on the radio doing a poor job of assuaging the ponies' minds. Not that it is especially its fault – with all the static from the evening storm and the clatter of rain on the garage's roof, its audibility is quite impaired. To make things even worse, the air in the makeshift lunchroom is loaded with the tension from all the brooding over our current situation...
The work on the barn's new roof covering started yesterday and should've been completed this morning. They had all the materials and tools and hooves to do a quick and efficient job, despite the extent of the task. However, this all degenerated in the most idiotic manner imaginable when someone raised the question of whose hooves should be used...The logical, pragmatic solution would of course have been to form a multi-tribe team, to take advantage of each pony's strength.
Instead?
Instead this gave rise to a stupid competition between pegasi and unicorns on which group was better suited for the job! I'm a bit miffed that Violette, whose ideas the other unicorns seem to hold in high regard for some reason, actually encouraged her cohort to up the ante, as if it were some sort of game! Granted, I myself didn't voice explicitly my opinion when the winged fiends asked me how they should respond to the unicorns' bravado, so maybe I should shoulder at least a little part of the blame...
The result, in any case?
A hole. A big, stupid hole in the barn's roof. We have to change two snapped rafters.
Frustratingly, it seems that the exact cause – pegasus clumsiness or uncontrolled unicorn magic – is deliberately left unaddressed. I suspect that it's a way to limit the already high tension... And I guess we should feel lucky that the earth ponies didn't try to involve themselves, otherwise there could be no barn left standing at all..!
No-one was hurt in the end, fortunately, even if we did have a bad fright when the rafters broke, and we heard a high-pitched screech. We feared that despite being forbidden from getting close to the barn a foal had snuck in at the worst moment, but it must've just been some animal scared by the noise.
For now a large tarp has been tacked over the hole, but with the storm coming Fenchone wanted all her ponies to stay in the house – and I agreed wholeheartedly. It really didn't help either that the bad weather came earlier this week than the forecast predicted, but that's not something you can control.
And so, all these equines are crammed in the garage. Strangely, when their attention isn't taken up by food or pointless chatter, they find the close proximity less pleasant... It must not help that we have to keep the doors closed, and that they must share space with the junk taken from the barn and the old familial pickup truck that has to be kept inside because of the hailing risk.
I'm still not sure why I'm here sitting with them, to be honest...
It's not like I can't just wander to another, less crowded part of the house – the layout is roughly similar to the Prévosts' house, who sheltered us after I was wounded, in that the garage is contiguous and linked to the house proper. Ivan and Jeannette, the grandparents of Fenchone, are nice people and already accepted to have me spend a little time in their company when the 'pony-pony-pony' noise was a bit too difficult to bear.
*sigh*
Two nights we've already spent in Coursac, and the feeling that I've no business being here is still as strong as the minute I set foot out of the minibus...
This isn't a temporary or incidental situation anymore. I've been dumped in the same hole in which they dumped the ponies. Just as if I was just another one of them.
I shouldn't be here.
And yet... It's also where I need to be.
I must live close to the ponies if I have to accomplish my mission, and protect them. But... Now that I find myself in the very situation where I should act and assume this role... I wish I didn't have anything to do with it..!
But what should I expect from a coward, after all?
That's why I made myself promise to at least try, in the end.
I'm still so angry at myself for the way I reacted in front of Chard and Crispy. This time they were the ones in the right, and I was way out of line. That's as grating as it is shameful... I was feeling overwhelmed, and as usual in these cases I reacted violently against the cause, real or perceived, of my turmoil – attributional bias once again makes me lose my temper against others. I get hyperbolic, and I'm seeping too deeply in my own tumultuous feelings so that I fail to express my concerns in a way others could understand...
Of course, being conscious of how broken I am doesn't mean much if I don't try to do something about it. I've tried to emulate Amber and Chard, to at least be civil with the new ponies, and it works adequately. I still have a hard time understanding how they manage to deal with this total melting of social norms, though... This kind of aggressive 'friendship' keeps me ill at ease, because of its forcefulness and how fake and coercive that makes it look – it's more or less the same reason I'm so uncomfortable around dogs, come to think of it.
Usually people notice sooner or later when you're just giving them token attention, and they learn to just avoid you. In theory I could just continue to appear neutral and boring for a little while, to discourage these ponies completely, and then they wouldn't have any excuse if they don't like me!
That could work... If only these blasted featherdusters didn't always come back for one reason or another! Even now as I sit against the humid, wind-rattled wooden doors of the garage, I can catch them glancing furtively in my direction from their perch on the pickup!
What's their problem, seriously!? Is it some pony-specific form of collectionitis, that compels them to try to bring into their fold any and all creature who just happens to have been saddled with wings!?
Lightning strikes again, a little closer than last time, and the deep rolling sound reverberating through my bones is a brief but welcome distraction from my increasingly fulminant ponderings. However, it frightens the foals again, and now only garbled static can be heard from the radio, which is promptly turned off. We're left with the raging of the storm and the muffled talks of the ponies as they huddle together, until I see Chard raising his head, ears pivoting like twin antennae, as if looking for someone in the dim light.
He must've found that someone, as he gets up, and after some almost acrobatic tiptoeing over various equines he reaches the pale lavender earth pony mare who usually sits on the edge of their group – and who, incidentally, I envy for her functional mix of no-nonsense attitude and believable amiability. “Hey, Marnepâle?”, I can hear him asking, “I've heard you're familiar with MLP, the cartoon?”
“I am, yes.”, she answers with what I'd interpret as cautious interest.
“You wouldn't happen to have an episode or two on your phone or something?”
“Actually I have them all on my computer, I thought it could be useful. I tried to show them to the others, but they said it was silly.”, she shrugs.
“Well, it's no longer silly! Let's get your computer.”
They garner more curious glances as they root through the pile of bags, emerging with the promised computer and quickly setting it up on a table in full view of the whole crowd. As it's booting, Chard turns to their prospective audience: “Alright my little ponies, it came to my attention that most of you aren't actually that familiar with the origins of our new ponyness, right?” There's some tentative nods coming from the earth pony portion of the room. “As we're all gathered here waiting for the storm to pass, Marnie and I would like to use this opportunity to present you some episodes of the show 'My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic'!” Ignoring some derisive snickers and uncertain looks, Chard goes on: “It's full of ponies like us, of course, and it's about how ponykind always manages to beat every odds through the power of friendship and harmony!”
Our two American ponies, Sassie in particular, are clearly on board with Chard's idea – logical, as fans of the show – but the enthusiasm is far from being widespread. I'm not surprised to notice that more than one pair of eyes, irrespective of tribe, turn toward Fenchone. The mare often acts as final authority and is highly respected, so her own opinion could be decisive: “Well...”, she says, standing up to address every pony, “I think that's an excellent idea! Thank you, Sweetchard and Marnepâle. I'm sure everybody could learn something from this show, if it's as good as you make it to be.”
As I predicted, the general attitude shifts more toward curiosity than disdain now, and soon enough, despite the smallness of the computer's screen and the passable quality of its speakers, most ponies are engrossed in the adventures of their cartoon counterparts, the foals being especially receptive. For my part I go back to the refuge of my phone, reading a short fic I managed to download, and trying to not pay attention to that ever-dreadful theme song...
I still allow myself a short glance around, from time to time. First off, the pegasi on their truck are finally more focused on something other than me, but it seems to be equal parts watching the cartoon as discussing among themselves – of what I can't hear, but that makes them quite animated, and the Americans are clearly involved.
Sweetchard is back at Crispy's side now, and certainly looks pleased with himself. I don't know if sharing the cartoon and insisting on the ideas of friendship and harmony was in direct response to what unfolded with the barn's roof, but shrewd Fenchone most evidently approved the initiative in this light. It's good to see him acting with his brain for once!
And then, there's Amber...
The young mare lies at her mother's side, both watching the show, and surrounded by the other unicorns. Like Chard, she seems to be truly flourishing here, and I'm happy for her... Just as much as I can sometimes feel jealous of how close she's with Violette, or how effortlessly she befriended the new ponies, and just as much as I can also feel guilty, because she's concerned about me, and that almost put her in trouble already... I know that at least one pegasus didn't appreciate that she's my friend and that we may spend time together – because this morning, no sooner did she leave me that some sneaky aerial vandal threw a pine cone at her! Fortunately that birdbrain wasn't nearly as good at throwing things as Amber herself can be, so there was no harm, but as it happened right before the pegasi and unicorns started their barn-breaking feud, I have a growing suspicion that the two event could be related... After that they have the gall to wonder why I don't want anything to do with them!
Anyway... If only the cartoon ponies could induce some sort of catharsis for the flesh-and-blood ones, that'd make them useful for a least one thing!
Tensions do seem to be on the decline, episode after episode, ponies smiling and laughing and even somehow singing along at times...
... Until thunder makes the walls shake, and for an instant the lone light bulb hanging from the roof flickers on and off. Thankfully it was just temporary and not a real blackout, but that's enough to cause some agitation, especially on the pegasi's side.
I curse under my breath as they appear to reach some sort of consensus, and five of them – including the two Americans – decide to glide from their truck to land in front of me, barely caring for the earth ponies they disturbed in the process. I put my phone away, and brace myself for their latest ploy to annoy me to death.
“That's enough,” declares the stallion named Gold-something, “we can't take anymore of this rogue storm!”
Uh... What? Are they seriously making me responsible for the damn weather now?
“A 'rogue' storm..?”, I repeat icily. “Do you know of any well-behaved ones..?”
It's the oldest of them, a green puffy cockatoo with a bird of prey's head for a cutie mark, who answers sharply: “You've seen it just like we did, and it confirmed what we all feel.”, she states while pointing a large wing feather the computer's way. “We can move clouds around. Their pegasi even create the weather itself.”
Am I going to have to pull the 'it's just a cartoon' argument again..? It's been a while.
“Yeah, we could stop this storm instead of having to put up with it!”, adds Gold-whatshisname. “That's what we should be doing, instead of cowering here!”
Well then...
I pull myself upright, wincing at my lingering pains, and I hobble a couple meters to the side. Their faces, which lighted up at seeing me move, turn to confusion then back to frustration when I just plop down in my new spot away from the doors, with no intention of getting up again: “I won't stop you. Sorry for blocking the way out.”
The green cockatoo mare is quick to follow though, sitting right in front of me: “Please, you know perfectly well that's not why we came to you...”, she whispers. “Fenchone forbade us to fly higher than the barn because she's afraid we would be seen, but it's almost night now, and it's raining; maintaining that ban is ridiculous in these circumstances..! Can't you try to convince her?”
I don't want to get involved in this, but the mare shows no sign of being willing to leave me alone as long as I don't give her an answer. “And why, pray tell, would Fenchone give a rat's ass about my opinion..?”
To her credit, the mare doesn't miss a beat: “Sassaflash and Alex told us about everything you've done for your ponies. Wouldn't you try to help us too?”
'Everything I've done'..? Are we talking about the same 'everything', 'cause personally I fail to see how that could be considered a good thing! Oh, and those two tattletales will have a fresh serving of my sternest face for a week after this..!
The teen teal filly joins the mare in front of me: “You're a hero, you have to help us!”, she pleads as if not going outside to get electrocuted by a lightning bolt was the end of the world.
“I'm no 'hero', don't go about imagining things..!”
“Be that as it may,” the green one goes on, “you're the kind of mare Fenchone listens to, like that unicorn Violette you're friend with.”
“I'm not a mare...”, I grumble.
“You make for an awfully effeminate stallion.”, she deadpans.
“I'm not a mare or a stallion..! I'm a fucking woman!”
“No you're not.”
...
What..?
What did she say..?
I stand up. The cockatoo does too. I purposefully prevent myself from taking complete notice of all the eyes on us.
“Get out of my sight..!”, I growl.
“Not before we resolve this issue.”, she frowns.
“Please! We are not here for this!”, Alex tries to interrupt, but we ignore him:
“The only 'issue' here is you trying so very hard to get my fist in your face..!”
“So much anger and violence...”, she sighs and shakes her head, as if talking to a misbehaving child. “You're really a poor excuse of a pony.”
“On this we completely agree!”, I shoot back. “Because I don't care. I refuse to play your silly little games.”
This seems to stump her for a bit, but her expression then shifts to clear, unabashed pity: “That's so sad to hear... I'm sorry you feel that way about yourself, and I was far too harsh – you're still as much a pony as anybody else here.”
“No I'm NOT!”, I bark right in her face! What is this crazy mare trying to do here!?
“Why are you holding on to the past like this?”, she asks almost innocently. “It's great to be a pony, especially a pegasus. We're so much better for it, and now some of us just want to live up to our new potential. Don't you?”
“Ha!”, I laugh at the absurdity! “You know what I hear when you're babbling about your 'ponies are just better' spiel? That you're just desperately clinging to the belief that, somehow, this horrible change didn't just stole your body and ruined your life, that if you end up with some sort of flimsy consolation price, well it really wasn't so bad in the end? God you're pathetic! Open your eyes for once!!”
She DARES to look even more sorry: “If that's really how you see it, how you see us, then I guess it tells far more about you than anything else... So go ahead, keep beating yourself up as much as you like instead of showing appreciation for your gift.”
“Gladly, you bitch!”, I snarl, pushing her away to get out of the garage and to the kitchen. “Show's over!”, I yell back to these stupid ponies before slamming the door shut behind me!
I keep on stomping through the darkened house until I reach the entrance, and I just let my butt fall against the cold tiles, red hot rage still constricting my lungs.
Goddammit, what was her fucking problem!? Was that a way to get back at me for not acting like a lovey-dovey happy pony!? Because that was working!!
*sigh*
Okay, calm down Laurence...
Maybe it's just the weather putting everyone on edge, or that green harpy had some beef against you because you weren't nice to the others, or, I don't know, maybe she really was asking for my help, as clumsy as it was? It didn't start so bad after all...
Wait, did I... Was it my fault..? Was I the one in the wrong again..?
I wasn't really nice, that's undeniable... Damn it, I'd promised myself I'd make an effort! Am I just so fucking weak!?
But no, no no no no no, it wasn't just me! She was the crazy one, with her cultish obsession! I was a bit standoffish, I'll admit that, but she refused to take the hint, and willingly kept pestering me!!
Not that it changes much in the end...
Because in the end, I just made a fool of myself in front of everyone, probably scared the foals with my shouts, ruined Sweetchard's attempts at salvaging the day, and now I'll get soaked if I sit here all night...
... Wait, soaked? I turn my head slightly to the right, allowing the front door of the house to enter my truncated field of vision.
It's partially open, letting the wind project some raindrops inside, including on the spot I ended my furious march.
Did Jeannette or Ivan try to go outside? In this weather? They're usually reading some book in their room at this hour.
Standing up, I approach the door cautiously. Pushing it open and peering into the humid darkness, nothing of note is readily apparent. The stormy clouds, the rain, the trees shaken by the wind... Looking down, though, I see the distinctive, circular prints of pony hooves in the mud directly in front of the door. There's only three of them however, not even a full set.
I'm pretty sure every pony was already inside when the rain started... Searching for more clues, I then notice that there are mud marks on the doormat, deposited with a clear wiping motion.
Let's see... Some ponies loitered around the house while diner was fixed, maybe one of the foals or teens opened the door, took a couple steps outside, then hastily went back inside? That would mesh with the hooftracks being on the smallish side. Whoever that pony was, they at least wiped their hooves, even if they forgot to check if the door was closed.
A flash of light blinds me for an instant, reminding me that I'm letting rainwater fall on me as well as the entrance, so I close the door correctly this time, and for safety's sake, I go have a little look at the living room – I remember all too well the time these two Brigade goons got the drop of me in the middle of the night. I've still not heard the thunder to this lightning though, I guess it means the storm's moving away.
Like I expected, the living room looks undisturbed, except for maybe minute drops of water strewn about on the tiles and carpet – though that could very well come from me or just the wind. Nothing on the table besides the TV remote, the tall cabinet doesn't appear to have been fiddled with... Was there only two pillows on the couch, or three? I'm not sure anymore...
And why do I have this awful feeling of being watched..?
My good ear swivels at the sounds of hooves on the floor, coming from the garage. Not sure what to expect, I affect a neutral expression, and wait for the pony to get to the entrance.
A brown, timid snout peeks around the corner, and I find myself smiling as I've no problem recognizing Amber's fine features: “In the living room.”, I call softly for her.
The young unicorn saunters through the entrance, but my smile diminishes at seeing the concern on her face. “Laurence..?”, she asks cautiously. “Are you all right?”
I sigh and sits on the carpet. How should I answer? I don't care how others see me, but I know she does, and as a loyal friend, she'd probably take my side... Hell, the very fact that she's here, standing in front of me, patiently waiting for an answer, is proof enough. She looks so happy here, I don't want to put her in this kind of situation..!
“That bad, huh..?”, she whispers, sitting next to me.
“Amber, you... You shouldn't be here.”
The filly smiles sadly. “Laurence, I told you... I'm right here with you, and I won't budge. Oh, and before you ask, yes I'm aware of the consequences and I don't give a rat's bottom about them.”, she adds with a wink.
I chortle at the sanitized version of my own expression. Silly filly... You deserve better than being my friend.
“So, er... Wanna talk about it?”, she asks after a moment.
“What is there to say..? You saw the whole thing. I tried to act civil, to play nice, but in the end I still fucked up... Eh, to be honest, I'm surprised that I didn't snap a lot sooner from sleeping in close quarters for so long..! Well, for as much as I manage to sleep at the best of times anyway.”
“I can understand, it felt a bit awkward for me too at first. The sleeping in groups and the dealing with lots of ponies, I mean.”
“But you got used to it, on both counts...”
“I suppose so... Can't you?”
“I don't know... This is just so different from what I usually deal with! With most humans you don't have to actively repel excessive attempts at making friends, after you made clear the first time that you weren't interested!”
How can ponies be so different from humans..? Can twenty-five years of life and learned habitus just vanish overnight? At the beginning I thought it was mostly the differences in facial structure, maybe even how scents or lack of hands could influence how the brain reacts to stimuli, but now, with a proper sample, I can clearly see that it goes beyond that – that ponies, for better or for worse, are a wholly different kind of creatures...
Which make me think... “Amber, do... Do some of you really think that? That you're all just better off as ponies..?”
“Maybe some do, I suppose, yes,” she says after some thought, “but just like with how fervent they are at forming bonds with other ponies, it could be a way to cope, as you said yourself? I know you don't feel that way, and that's your right, but most of us don't perceive ourselves as fully human anymore.” She waits, gauging my reaction, but I just nod for her to continue: “So, we're ponies, in body if not in mind, and now it's like this world we knew all our life has become hostile to our very existence. Some of us lost our friends, our family, everything we had as humans... So I suppose, in the end, the only thing we can really count on now are our fellow ponies? Maybe they're just so happy to know they're not alone anymore, that they can be with somebody who understand what they went through, and will never reject them just because of who, and what they are? From there maybe some sort of 'pony pride' could emerge? Or maybe it could just be basic pony herd instinct, but I like my explanation better.”
I snort. “It'd be like they forgot they've not always been ponies! Maybe I should start shouting 'stop this, you're supposed to be human!' at them? Not that they would listen of course... You don't find that kind of creepy?”
Again Amber takes time to ponder the question: “... Well, on this, I could somewhat agree with you... to a point at least. They really 'got into the role', so to speak, and I doubt it's only because of potential mental changes. It was a bit off-putting at first, but I can still understand them, I think. I lost no-one when I became a pony, no close human relation to hold me back into feeling human. Heck, I even have a pony mother! So, I suppose that could be the same for many of them, especially now that they got pony names? I know that for me it'd be easy to just fall into the role of Amber Spire, to completely redefine myself as the young mare I appear to be... In a sense, that's the only thing I have left. It's the easy way out in the 'who am I' game, to just be what your body is and act the part... Of course, I just can't accept that. It would be an insult to all the principles I hold close to my heart and had to fight for for so long. And anyway, even if this wasn't so essentialist, I just can't forsake who I was, because it's still who I am... I'm sure you can understand that.”
“That's kind of an understatement...”, I chuckle.
“Well... That got philosophical really fast..!”
“Yes,” I smile, “but that's also what I like with our conversations.”
“Me too.”, she coos, nuzzling at my chest, probably without realizing how inhuman this kind of gesture really is.
We stay like this for a good long while. She's such a sweet filly... I don't want to have to hurt her, and yet I know I will, eventually. I have so much pent-up rage in me – against Fate, against myself... How could I ever have a healthy relationship with any of these ponies?
Maybe I should just... distance myself, to give me time to learn how to redirect this energy for good, for something worthwhile, instead of just getting back to hitting my head against walls... Use it any way I can to help, rather than just let it burn me from the inside... And, maybe, be worthy of the mission I've been given.
But, I suppose, this can wait until tomorrow...