Today had been the day. James would have finally gotten his job, and things would only have been on the rise from there. Now, all the crumb-paths had since spoiled over, and the only thing left between hope and despair were a few thin slices of bread, and a nigh-empty, day-old tub of butter. To James, buttering bread with his fingers wasn’t the most attractive prospect in the world, but it was much more preferable to sleeping through the cold night on an empty stomach.
It was a delicate series of events that had led up to James’ loss of the job opportunity; there was much left to be desired from the hiring-pony’s honesty, but the ultimate path that had given way was the one full of financial burdens, a path that James had been unfortunate enough to be lured onto. He had been promised food, shelter, good company, and money.
For the most part, James had lived without such promises for the last several months he’d spent traveling Equestria. The sudden change of pace in his life style had come about as a result of his arrival in Fillydelphia; it was a small, quiet town, in need of labor, and ponies willing to settle down.
James had been more than willing, but the buffeting winds of society had turned him back to his worn-out hiking boots.
As if to prove its loyalty to the nature of the world Equestria lived by, the weather, too, turned down upon James with an onslaught of icy bullets. He pulled his cotton hood over his head and finished his bread with dignity. The hush of his breath went unheard in the downpour as he stood from the steps of the tavern and disappeared into the night.
A few frantic, candle-wielding lamplighters flitted about on their wings, no doubt desperate to escape the mixture of equally icy hail and rain, and possibly further empowered by a desire to return to their homes and families.
James pulled his rucksack’s straps taut and hurried down a turn, this time choosing a rather narrow street. His eyes flickered back and forth. The chosen alley—one he’d scoped out just before the sunset a few hours before—found its way into his line of sight, and he rushed forward, eager to once more shelter himself from the rain.
The pitter-patter of boots in rain was something all too familiar to James’ ears, but so too was the sound of his boots skipping over cobblestones as he ground to a halt. Standing stock-still in the rain, James stared at the pony who had dared to occupy his haven.
The grullo mare was clearly downtrodden; the dreadful weather was unable to disguise the awful mood pooled into her visage. Her inky black mane, split by a large splice of gray-silver, was tousled and damp. She—the earth pony mare—was bereft of any belongings, or even one of the ponies’ distinct ‘cutie marks,’ and that knowledge allowed James to calm himself a little; she was a blank slate, just like him.
When he stepped out of the rain and into the coverage of the building-cornered alley the mare took notice. Her ears twitched up from their hunched position, and their eyes met. James’ heart thumped much more loudly for a moment; he had been caught off guard by the lone amber-gold iris that peeked from beneath her long frazzled mane. His mind ticked over the curious detail briefly, and ultimately he decided to speak up first. He drew a breath while the mare gave him her own inspection.
“Your eyes. They’re… different.”
Sniffling, the mare shuddered and leaned away. “What?” she croaked in a dry voice; the mare cringed at the sound. “What do you mean?” she said, the rasp mostly cleared.
He scratched at his stubble, which was arguably as messy as the mare’s mane. “Most ponies eyes are ‘cool’ colored. Yours are a ‘warm’ color.”
In reply, she gave him an exhausted, cautionary glance.
“And a dark alley is no place for a bright-eyed pony.” James settled onto a dry piece of cardboard across from the mare, and leaned against his framed rucksack. “Rough night?”
The mare leaned back against the door of the building behind her. “... yes,” she relented quietly. James saw one of her idle hooves play over a discarded kitchen apron. “I’ve been working here since I was a filly. Well, I used to.” Her face tinged faintly with resent, but it slipped away so swiftly that it was almost as if it hadn’t even existed. “I messed up an order. And it was bad, a really bad mistake, but…” The mare closed her eyes and sighed. “I didn’t expect to lose… everything,” she finished.
James blew a puff of air from his mouth. “I can’t say I know exactly how you feel, but… I can try.” The mare’s ears perked up slightly and tilted vaguely in his direction. “I was about to get a job, my first real one in months. But they just… up and left me on the streets. But I guess that’s just how it is for people like us; every day is just one more we lose.”
A morose laugh was coaxed out of her. “It’s nice to meet a somepony who understands that.” The tiniest fraction of a smile peeked out from the corner of an upturned lip. “I’m Mercury.
“James, and likewise. I’d shake your hoof, but it’d be kind of awkward to do with both of us on opposite sides of the alley here.”
Another laugh wove its way out of Mercury’s chest, more boisterous and longer than the last. “You’re funny, James.”
“Funny-looking!” he quipped.
The mare’s smile fully manifested. “That too.” Her head tilted with curiosity. “But how’d a funny-looking guy like you end up here?”
“See, I… when I got to Equestria, I wasn’t exactly crossing at a legal point of entry. A Royal Guard patrol saved my life from some highwaymen—highwayponies, and I was brought over to an actual checkpoint into the country.”