//------------------------------// // Chapter 5 // Story: Anon's Detour // by NeonDF //------------------------------// Following the lavender pony, Anon couldn’t help but let his eyes wander over its body. He could see the muscles contract in its legs with the rhythmical sway of the hindquarters, each side adorned with a cartoonish depiction of star surrounded by smaller stars. The hooves were surprisingly clean and well kept, each producing a soft clopping sound as they steadily hit the ground one after another. The tail was colored similarly to its mane – blue with purple and pink stripes – was quite long and would’ve reached the ground if it wasn’t trimmed straight at the end. A brief glance underneath identified the pony as a mare. The mare has been leading him for a few minutes until they’ve reached a bizarre building. It looked as if a regular oak tree had its trunk and branches thickened ten times over then hollowed out and turned into a house. He could recognize a balcony, some windows that must’ve been on the second or a third floor and even a platform with a telescope at the top. There was a sign near the entrance with a book drawn on it, but no sign at what the building could be there for. The pony reached the door and, as if it was completely natural, pulled it open with a hoof, stepped aside and looked at him. Not entirely sure how to proceed, he took a few hesitant steps towards the doorway, ducked down and, seeing no hostile reaction from the mare, stepped inside. Inside there was a huge chamber. It looked like it was carved out from the tree itself, each wall sporting niches filled with books. The far wall had a stairway carved along it that led somewhere up, and under the stairs was a door. There was a round table in the middle of the chamber decorated with some plants, and completing the look was a stylized depiction of the sun painted over the entire ceiling. Overall, this was the most expensive interior design Anon has ever seen. The door closed behind him, and the lavender mare walked past, brushing over his leg in the process. She crossed the chamber and went up the stairs, pausing in the middle and giving Anon a look. He shook his head and followed after her. The stairs had no railing, so he ended up unconsciously slowing and leaning away from the edge and towards the wall while ascending. The stairs led to another chamber, this one twice as small but much higher. A side wall opened into a third floor where he could make out a bed and a giant window, with a second stairway leading up to it carved into the opposite wall. The mare led him towards the left side, where stood a table with a bench, stopped there and gave him another look, nickering something for the occasion. Anon hesitated for a second, until the mare raised its hoof and demonstratively put it on the bench, nickering again. Heeding the invitation, Anon closed the distance and took a seat. The bench was too close to the floor to sit comfortably, so he had to bend his legs a bit and spread them out. Seemingly satisfied, the mare let out a snort, turned around and made its way back down. For the first time in a while, Anon was left completely alone, free to reflect on everything that’s happened today. The questions kept piling on, prompting more and more possibilities and giving less and less answers. Was he in danger? If so, who was he in danger from? How would he get out of this danger? And by the way, what’s up with that pony’s almost human-like gestures? Was it an animal? Well, of course it was, he’d seen that for himself. Was it an alien after all? Animals can’t be that smart, and he doubted genetics research has advanced far enough to grant them such level of intelligence. That’d be a story straight out of Hollywood. The man was roused from his stupor by the grumbling of his empty stomach. The only food he ate today was a single apple of questionable freshness, and now that the stressful situation was over the body was free to voice its displeasure at the rough treatment. Cursing under his breath, Anon realized he’s been entirely too absorbed with long-term problems. Whatever trouble he got himself in could wait, there were more pressing issues such as lack of food and water, as well as means of communication. For that matter, he was in a house right now, as an invited guest no less, and any self-respecting house will surely have some food and water to share for hospitality’s sake. He let his instincts take over. The ears scanned the soundscape for possible signs of a prey or a predator, the eyes wandered over the interior in search of edible objects or possible tools. The most success had the nose, which registered the smell of fresh fruit close nearby. Allowing the most important organ guide him once again, Anon took a couple of whiffs and slowly turned his head. There, on the table, sat a basket positively stuffed with food. Apples, oranges, pears, bananas, grapes – the cornucopia positively made the mouth water. The man broke into a toothy smile. One problem down, only two to go. The lavender mare made its way down the stairs and called for her assistant. The basement door opened, and a young drake came out, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He was a growing dragon, so sleeping most of the day was entirely natural, but when the duty called, he always answered. The mare spent the next few minutes going over her experiences from today. The drake listened attentively, only occasionally interrupting for clarification, and once the story came to an end tilted his head and mulled over it in silence. There was much to mull over, and he would be a lousy assistant if he did not give his best analysis of the situation, but at the same time there were far too many inconsistencies and unknowns for him to form a concrete opinion. A few minutes later, and he informed his sister of exactly that. She titled her head in response, and let out some whinnies. Then the duo quietly turned and ascended the stairs. Taking a peek, they saw the creature in question. It was letting out weird noises, making strange gestures with its extremities and assaulting the fruit basket that was accidentally left on the table. A double head tilt later, the pony and her assistant retreated back downstairs. The mare let out a nicker. The drake let out a grunt. He pulled out a fresh sheet of paper from a shelf and grabbed a quill. As the mare let out a string of horse noises, he took care to capture them in written form, his hand deftly sliding over the sheet and putting down dashes, triangles, circles and other symbols. Once she was done, the drake rolled up the paper, inhaled and spewed out a torrent of flames that incinerated the letter. The cloud of ashes took on a yellowish glow, rose upwards and immediately flew off through the open window towards the distant recipient.