//------------------------------//
// Alone 
// Story: Zinnias 
// by Serinity Southerland 
//------------------------------//

I winced as I awoke again. The pain in my head had subsided, for the most part, and my leg felt numb but the hurt from before was merely a dull throb now. I groggily took in my surroundings as a mid-morning sun shone onto me through a gap in the trees above. “That must be where I fell from.” I said to myself, which startled me into remembering what I thought I had dreamt. “My voice! My body!” I attempted to sit up, but found that I no longer owned the muscles or bone structure to complete such an act and just as quickly as I jerked up I fell back down in an awkward mess of limbs and hair. 
    
It took me a few tries to learn how to make my four appendages operate as I struggled to get them underneath me and stand. I was wobbly, much too wobbly for having two extra contact points with the ground, I reasoned, and my heart still felt as though it were trying to run a race and leave me behind as my brain tried fruitlessly to make sense of everything that had happened. My hindlegs buckled from underneath me and I fell back on my haunches and learned by accident how to sit, though the pain in that leg made me wish I hadn't.

“W-what happened last night? What happened to me? I heard so many weird sounds and then…a-and then the invisible monster thing with the horses, and the cliff, and that river of stars…where even am I? Where’s the cliff!?” I gasped, as I realized there was no cliff.

I was on a nearly flat stretch of earth, a small stream burbled noisily in the distance and the sound of the woods around me filled the air. My ears worked around my head as the peaceful sounds I had always loved echoed threateningly through the tangle of trees. Everything sounded almost alien here, and the isolating atmosphere only cast a shadow of fear as I realized just how alone I’d become. 

I liked being alone, normally. When the world was too much to bear I would escape to the woods to recharge in peace. This, however, was a different loneliness. One that threatened to be far more permanent and dangerous. All familiarity was gone. The birds, the insects, the crickets all sounded vaguely different in some uncanny sense. I wasn’t sure if it was paranoia setting in, or if everything here sounded more aggressive and wild. 

It took me a lot longer than I would've liked to calm myself enough to think clearly. I had to talk to myself. I just needed to hear my own voice, confirm with myself that I’m alive, and take stock of my situation like I trained myself to do. I needed to organize my thoughts and refocus. I spoke, but the words didn't sound like my own. I had to keep reminding myself of that change as well, and I struggled to quell the feeling of panic that shot through me with every word that left my muzzle.

“I-I’m alive. I’m not…me anymore, but I’m alive. That’s…something?” My breath felt shaky and unstable, and my words quavered. “I-I have hooves now, and long hair…a mane? And a tail…?” 

I looked at my body, marking all of the changes I could see. My first thought when seeing the color of my body’s new mane and tail was how much they reminded me of leaves in the fall. I loved fall colors, especially maple leaves. They reminded me of the orange zinnia flowers my mother used to plant in her garden when I was young. That memory brought some peace to my mind, if only for a moment. I took a deep breath and continued.

“I’m a horse…a pony I think. A small one, or something with four legs a-and I think I’m a uhh.” I had to check, something extremely important felt like it was missing. I looked down at my belly as I sat in this unknown land and shuddered. “And I’m a female now. Or a mare? Huh. O-okay, uhh. That’s gonna be hard to get used to. If this is even all real.” Another jolt of pain in my hip reminded me that it was most certainly real. 

I shuddered as my brain sent uncomfortable questions to me about how I’m supposed to keep my new equipment clean and how I’m supposed to answer when nature calls. Do I need to pack toilet paper when I go hiking now? Do I even need toilet paper now? Do ponies sit when…”That’s not important now. Argh! Focus, S-...S-...” 

Another realization hit me. I couldn't say my old name. It’s not like I had forgotten it. Seth Madigan was only me for 30 years, so I’d know my own name. It was as if my brain no longer had words for that name, like it no longer translated or didn’t exist. “Oh, horses have muzzles. Maybe…” No. It wasn't a language issue. My voice was not only more feminine, but my new lips spoke in a language I’ve never heard before, yet I understood every word they spoke. My mouth wasn't designed for English, or any human language anymore, yet the words I uttered made bizarrely familiar sounds to my ears.

I began to lose it again. I was going insane, I knew it. The mushrooms, the concussion, me, maybe, really being a dead thing having some fever dream in the throes of a dying seizure... Something was wrong and I wasn’t privy to what it was or how it happened. Yet here I was, a tan, talking, female pony thing lost in some foreign forest and I didn't even have my gear. 

I curled up into a ball and laid there shivering in the warm sunlight,  feeling like my mind was slipping away from me. I was going to die, a thing. No one would find me, no one would know it was me or who I was, or what I was, and I would die alone and miserable.

“Move.” My lips spoke without me bidding them. “Move. Focus. Survive. Do something.” My survival training kicked in as I wobbled in an attempt to stand again, my body moving on its own. All those years of hiking, survival training, and TV shows I watched took over as my willpower drained away. 

“MOVE!” I yelled into the trees as I forced myself to stand and steadied my legs and my will in the face of adversity. I had to survive. If nothing else but to get back at whatever cruel fate decided to place me here. I wasn't sure what I would do if I found people, if I would be rescued or shot, or if I discovered I could never get back home. But I knew none of it mattered if I didn't move forward. I wasn't going to die today. 

Moving forward, or at all, proved difficult though. Managing four limbs at once wasn’t exactly an easy task, and neither was learning how to use all of my new muscles. It took me a better part of the morning, but I finally worked out how to stumble about without falling on my face every other step. “I’d better not need to run from anything out here. I’d be eaten for sure.” My dry throat scratched at every word, reminding me of my need for water. 

I managed to make it to the creek I’d heard earlier much quicker than I’d anticipated, only eating dirt ten or so times along the way. Having ears that could swivel atop one's head made it easier to locate sounds, letting me pinpoint even smaller noises with ease. Getting used to them moving around by themselves would take some effort, as they tracked back and forth on their own without me having to think about guiding them. 

 I felt a little more confident in my footsteps - hoofsteps - with every stride I took without falling over and made it to the water's edge to drink. I bent my neck and head down to examine the water, which nearly caused me to lose balance and tumble forward into the creek. I resolved to simply lay down at the water's edge and attempt drinking from there so I didn’t stumble in and drown myself while trying to figure out how to get back up. The cool water soothed my throat and rejuvenated my body as it felt it slide past my parched tongue and into my core. Never had water tasted so sweet.

I took some time to look at my reflection in the water's surface. I wondered at the teal green eyes that stared back in awe and curiosity, and the beautiful, but messy, autumn orange tangle of hair that fell about my head, neck and face. I chanced to look at my tail again, still uncomfortable with what it hid below and felt self conscious. I felt like I was being stared at by a male, which was beyond bizarre as the male both was, and wasn't, me. I resolved to just ignore it for now lest attempting that feat of mental gymnastics broke what little bit of fragile sense of self I had left.

I noticed I had something on my flank, which was odd. It looked like a tattoo, but I’d never had one before. Upon further inspection, I realized it wasn’t a tattoo, but rather a pattern that grew on, or rather in, my fur. It was shaped like a piece of steel striking a flint rock and making a spark. I eyed it curiously, wondering where it came from or what it meant, when a snapping tree branch sent alarm bells ringing in my head. 

I jerked up to my feet nearly tumbling into the water, and my head and ears worked together in tandem to locate the sound. Another rustle in the trees, a crack, and a pair of eyes stared out from the branches of a nearby gnarled snag of woods. My body instinctively took a step back and I felt cold water touch my hoof. I knew the creek wasn’t deep, but I still felt trapped all the same and I cursed myself for being remade into a prey animal. Whatever creature was in that tree surely wanted to eat me, and I knew I couldn’t run well enough to escape it’s terrible claws and gnashing teeth of a horrible…squirrel? 

The fuzzy little creature leapt out from behind it’s leafy nest and looked at me with a strange expression. I sighed to myself, and wondered when squirrels had become so scary…or expressive. “Was this one laughing at how scared I’d been of it? And why does my back feel oddly tense and top heavy? Oh…” 

“W-wings? I have wings too?” I marveled at my newly discovered feathery appendages that adorned my back. I hadn’t even realized they were there, and probably would never have had they not flared up like a frilled lizard when I got spooked by the woodland rodent. They were the same light tan color as the hair on my body and felt lighter than I would have expected considering their size compared to the rest of my petite physique. 

I settled down on my haunches again with a wince and took a bit of time trying to figure out how to retract my new found equipment. “Does this mean I can fly? How does that even work? Aren’t horses too heavy? What are the aerodynamics of a horse anyway?”

As if distracted by my thoughts, the two wings decided they were done being spooked and retracted themselves, folding snugly against my sides. My body apparently had some instincts and muscle memory already worked out, I just needed to train my brain to use it. I attempted flexing, stretching, and even jumping a little to get my wings to extend again but they refused to budge this time. “Yeah, figures that would happen. Can't just let me fly out of here, that’d be too easy.” 

I took just another moment to wash myself off in the creek as best I could. The cool water against my flanks and chest was energizing and it felt good to wash off the dirt from my hair and mane. I felt like a farm animal wallowing in fresh water or a bird as I preened some twigs and dirt from my wings but a little more human as I inspected my clean coat gleaming in the sunbeams permeating the forest canopy. 

Once I was clean, I finally left the water and felt much better than I had before. I reminded myself that in situations like these, people don’t have time to gawk at their surroundings and themselves. Survival was my number one priority, so I tried to devise a plan. I knew a fair bit about wild edibles…I knew how to hunt and trap with little resources or tools. Even a sharp rock worked as a cutting edge for slicing rope or skinning animals.

I suddenly felt sick as I thought of animal hides. Images of bloody meat and wet skins danced through my mind and I wretched as my hooves felt like they were going to travel up my legs and out of my mouth. ”Why did my stomach flip at that thought?”  Hunting may be out of the question Just the thought of meat sent my stomach reeling. “Guess steaks are off the menu. Hurk...shut up, brain."

I stomped a hoof in frustration and shook my head to clear the sickening images from my mind’s eye and forced myself to reconsider my options. With limited resources, no ability to make tools, none of my gear, and wings that can’t even fly, I had no choice but to fall back on the one thing I disliked relying on most; Other people. 

I hoped that by following the creek that I would stumble across a town or village somewhere. If I were still on Earth, I suppose I’d have to make due living like a wild animal now and avoid hunters where possible. The thought of headlines in the local newspapers reading “Wild Pegasus Shot in Rural Southwest Va.” got a morbid laugh out of me. 

“Well…I guess I have my path set before me then.” I resigned myself to my fate as I stood up and steadied myself. “I’ll follow the creek and hopefully find my way back to, uhh, somewhere. Good grief. Woah!” I tripped almost immediately as I took my first step. A shock of orange fell in front of my eyes and I puffed the hairs away and groaned at my clumsiness before carefully walking with the flow of the creek. I was alone, but for once in my adult life, I hoped that wouldn’t last long.