The thing that was looking at him was best classified as a Pokémon knockoff. It barely reached his chest, had a body type somewhat resembling a pony, but with thicker legs, and had a bright orange coat. The most striking feature though was a weirdly human-like face sporting a pair of giant green eyes staring right into his soul from underneath an honest to god Stetson hat.
The sight was so bizarre it left Anon in a stupor. Unlike the wolf thing, this creature didn’t appear threatening, but it also did not resemble any animal he has ever seen in a zoo, on TV or in the internet. Closest he could come up with was Pokémon fanart, except this one was three dimensional, breathing and seemingly living.
The creature blinked, its pupils leaving his own and going over his body. Anon stood still under scrutiny, his smile frozen into a slight grimace, as the creature kept examining him. It then titled its head on the side, like a dog, stood still for a second and suddenly took a step forward. Anon reflexively took a step back.
That broke the spell. The creature let out a loud whinnying noise and sprang back, which caused Anon to spring back as well, turn 180 while in the air and start pumping his legs, carrying his ass out of danger for the second time this day. He did not hear the door slam behind, nor did he feel the rain pouring down as he quickly made his way as far away from the porch as possible.
It didn’t take him long to come to senses this time. Soaked to the bone, Anon recalled the small shack he saw on the way here. Taking a few second to reorient himself and spot the target, he made yet another dash, this time towards the shack, hoping the creature wouldn’t follow him there.
On a closer look the shack turned out to be a small tree house, with makeshift ladder nailed together from a few planks leading up from the ground towards the entrance. Not slowing down a bit, Anon rushed upwards, his muddy shoes almost making him slip twice, shoulder-checked the door, rushed inside and slammed it behind.
He held still for some time, catching breath and listening for any sounds from the outside. There was nothing but the drumming of the rain on the roof and rustling of trees under the wind, and an occasional rumble of thunder.
Taking a moment to assess the surroundings, Anon was pleasantly surprised at how nice the shack was. There was a window with curtains, a table near it with an empty vase, another table some ways away surrounded by a trio of chairs. But what held the most of Anon's attention was a giant fluffy rug right in the middle.
He suddenly realized he’s been awake for almost 40 hours at this point. A full day of work, countless kilometers spent walking through forest, a sleepless night spent in woods jumping from every sound, then running for his life twice left Anon entirely exhausted.
By now, he couldn’t bring himself to care about the possible danger of being found squatting on someone else’s property. He grabbed a chair, propped it at an angle between the doorknob and a crack in the floor boards, effectively jamming the door, then closed the curtains on the window, took off his wet clothes and muddy shoes and laid down on the rug. It smelled of dust and dirt, but Anon was beyond the point of caring. Grabbing a side, he flipped it over himself to act as a blanket, and immediately fell sleep.
He dreamed of sleeping back home in his bed.
It was morning of the next day. A little yellow-coated pony, little by virtue of being a young representative of her species, has recently finished her morning routines of feeding cattle, cleaning the house and tending to plants, and was now awaiting other two similarly little ponies in hopes of starting the most important activity of the day – seeking their purpose in life.
According to her elder sister, a strange bipedal creature was spotted yesterday, so as a precaution they were banned from leaving the premises for the day. Luckily, there were still things to try on the farmstead, so the sudden restriction would not interfere with the plans.
As expected, the other two has shown up after only a few minutes of wait. One was white-coated and had a horn, and another was orange and sported a pair of wings. Traditional greetings in the form of a hoof-bump followed, and the trio set off towards their base of operation – recently constructed tree house near the corner of the property – chatting over the news and new ideas on the way.
It didn’t take long for them to reach it. The makeshift ladder leading to the entrance was quite narrow, so they had to get in line, with yellow pony taking point, and climb it one after another. But when she reached the top and pushed the door, the door did not budge.
The pony tilted her head and tried pushing again. Nothing happened. The orange pony that was following after her also tilted its head, and voiced its curiosity. The yellow one replied, and pushed the door again. It did not budge. Brief chatter between the two ponies followed, with occasional attempts at pushing the door, when suddenly a third voice spoke up.
The voice belonged to the white pony, third in the line, and prompted a pause from the other two. They replied in unison, and the white tilted its head, thought for a second and let out a short phrase. The yellow one turned its head forward, pushed the door again, turned back and let out a string of chatter. The white pony tilted its head on the other side, and let out another short phrase, receiving no reply this time. The yellow one silently turned from the door, stepping a bit to the right towards a balcony which was placed right under the tree house window, and tried peered in. The curtains were closed.
The orange and white joined her on the balcony, a bit more back and forth followed, and then the white one closed her eyes in concentration. Her horn light up with light green glow, same glow that seemed to now surround the window, and slowly and shakily the window frame raised up and locked itself in place, followed by curtains moving aside.
The inside looked different from how they left it. First, it turned out the chair has somehow moved and jammed the door. Second, there were clothes of unknown origin lying in a pile. And last, the rug was occupied by a strange creature lying on top of it.
None of them recognized the creature. It would be hard to tell whether it’s even a creature and not a rock, were it not for its chest area moving as if from breath. The yellow one, recalling her sister’s warning this morning, relayed it to her companions. A moment of silence followed. The orange one spoke up, prompting white to light up her horn again and close the window, then all three in a hurried fashion stumbled down the stairs and took off towards the house.
Upon reaching the porch and opening the door, the trio rushed inside, whinnying loudly and causing the other inhabitants to gather in the hallway. It took some time for them to decide on a course of action, but in the end, the yellow one’s sister, orange pony, ran outside and took off down the road, and a massive red pony, their brother, locked the door and ascended to the attic tower to keep watch.