//------------------------------// // Chapter Five - Freaky Flip-Flop Family Fostering // Story: Gynophobia // by Discombobulated Soul //------------------------------// Beds are a most ponderous creation. I have to wonder at what point the current model was decided upon. Sure, there are slight variations in style and appearance, but, at least in my experience, differences between designs are marginal at best. Four legs, a headboard, ample room on the high-quality mattress... ...alright, you caught me. I've never once slept on a good mattress. But hey, a guy can dream, right? Pun intended, by the way, because despite the usual poor quality of my sleep, I do dream quite often. Mostly about the mundane things in life, like going to school, taking walks through the town, and immersing myself in stories. I don't really have nightmares--or, maybe it's just that I don't consider them that scary anymore. After long enough, you kind of just get used to things, y'know? Beds. I have had ample experience with beds, if not high-quality ones. They don't frighten me much anymore, since I realized a while ago that it wasn't the mattress' fault what happened atop it. The same is true for all sorts of creations. Things can hardly be held accountable for what they're forced to do, right? And maybe that even applies to people. Desperation and prevailing authority can make anyone crumble, but it's not their fault, right? Heh. If only it was that simple. I'm lying atop a bed right now. It's the one in my hospital room. Kinda stiff and too high off the ground for my tastes, but the soft linens and fluffy pillows are quite pleasant. I'd rate it a solid eight out of ten. I'm really tired, so it probably feels nicer than it is. That's why I'm not thinking in past tense, by the way. That takes concentration and energy that I don't seem to have after recent happenings. ...what? Don't look at me like that! You want me to go to sleep, don't you? That's utterly ludicrous. I don't think I've ever heard anything that makes less sense in my entire life. You do realize where I'm at, right? A weird horse hospital that's run exclusively by females? I can't think of any places that would be less safe to lose consciousness in. Heck, the last time I fell asleep in here--unwillingly, mind you--I woke up to a psycho nurse making every effort to scare my newfound chartreuse coat off. No, what I need to do is find a way out. Yeah, as if that's going to happen. I'm stuck in a brand new quadrupedal body that's only half-operational, one too weak to even open the window, let alone run away at any serviceable clip. I'd make it maybe a mile before collapsing, especially with how tired I am. The hallways are even less of an option; given how many nurses and orderlies we passed on the way here, sneaking by simply will not work. Worse still, they're watching me. I can see a blocky black device attached to the ceiling's corner, occasionally blinking a small red light. I don't know whether it's mostly magic or they've just created different technologies out of order, but I know it's a camera. They're watching. Just waiting for me to fall asleep and drop my guard. Or perhaps they're looking to see me try to escape and mete out punishment after. They--the mares running this place, that is--might even be waiting for Redheart to get far enough away before... ...I'm not making much sense, am I? I hope you'll forgive my paranoia--it's just that it has served me quite well in the past. The truth is, I'm really scared. This whole situation is starting to sink in and I'm not prepared to deal with it. Was my average, contented life truly so irksome as to warrant this? I know, I know. Complaining doesn't help anything. I should shut my mou--er, muzzle before I go on a pointless tirade. ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...I'm glad you're here with me. You are...the only friend I have left, pathetic as it sounds. Sorry, it's just that someone told me a long time ago to focus on what I'm thankful for, that it makes hard times easier. I'm thankful for you. It's been some hours since I last thought to you. I had to give myself time to stew. I've managed to refrain from sleep for the most part--dozing a little here and there before catching myself. I think the sun is almost up. I'm watching the sky change color from the window right now. It...it's beautiful. Living in Manhattan, you just don't get to see things like this. I'd describe it to you if I had the words, but I think I'm too tired anyway. Gosh, it sure is breathtaking. Ponyville--that's the town we're in, as least as long as I overheard correctly--is such a quaint little place. It almost seems sheltered from the harshness of reality--a little hamlet of tranquility in an otherwise cruel and unforgiving world. I can see ponies waking up, just now exiting their doors and heading down the cobblestone streets. Along the way, they meet friends and strangers alike, but all are treated with gracious greetings and cheery attitudes. I'm grateful to see this from here. It's almost enough to take my mind off things. I just have to wonder, y'know? What it would be like to fit right in with those ponies. To live carefree like that, without dreading what is soon to come. Just...wiling the days away among friends and acquaintances, spending years with a family that isn't out to get me. One that cares. That loves me in a way that doesn't make me want to throw up or fight back or call the authorities. I'm finding my gaze drawn especially to the sky and the pegasi soaring through it. If I had the energy, my own wings might be buzzing in ecstasy and anticipation. They look so graceful up there. Untethered. Free. Through my blurry vision I can make out a pair of grounded ponies approaching the hospital. The one's white coat and pink mane catches my attention and I straighten, hurriedly wiping the moisture from my eyes. Despite my haste, I can catch only a few more glances of them before they round the bend and leave my window. That was definitely Doctor Redheart, though. It almost looked like a stallion with her, too. I found my spirits lifting with hope at that thought. ...sorry for the abrupt change in tense. I'm going to try using past from now on. It'll help me stay alert. You'll let me know if I start slipping, right? That will probably mean I'm starting to lose consciousness. If that happens, I'll need to get to a safe spot as soon as possible. Alright. Past tense. Here we go. I hopped down from the window in short order, trotting over to the middle of the room. I had the feeling that someone would be entering soon, so I decided to keep my eyes on the door. Any assailants would not get the drop on me, at very least, so preparation was key. I stayed there, sitting on my haunches before the entrance, for quite some time. Surprisingly, I found myself hoping a certain doctor would be the one to open it, though any explanation evaded me entirely. The anticipation was starting to get overwhelming. My vision tunneled towards that looming door and a pit of cold dread formed itself in my chest as time wore on. The approaching clack of hoofsteps only raised my anxiety. I was shaking, hyperventilating as they stopped just outside. When the handle turned and the door cracked open, I'd already stood and begun backing away. Imagine my relief, then, when the pony who stepped inside happened to be exactly who I wanted to see. "Redheart!" My child voice squeaked and I stumbled before I could gallop any closer. Really, this was fortunate; no matter how much I wanted to, there was no way I could trust the mare. Despite knowing this, I was somewhat surprised to find a large part of me yearning to throw myself into her arms--er, forelegs. It was looking like my new foal body had some impulses I'd need to restrain. I wasn't the only one shocked; Redheart paused and furrowed her brows at me while tilting her head. Apparently, she hadn't expected I'd be so happy to see her. I fumbled, standing with haste and splaying my legs against the tile floor. I needed to regain control of the situation before she got the idea that I liked her. Soon enough, she'd reveal her true intentions and that would hurt far worse if I ever got attached. "Don't come closer!" I commanded, wincing at the crack and waver in my voice. Thankfully, the doctor listened and promptly sat, just barely inside the room. Instinctively, my muscles loosened and I grimaced in displeasure, still fighting the urge to run to her. Redheart smiled gently and lowered herself until she was laying down, tucking her legs in much like a cat 'loafing'. "Don't worry, Heath. I'll stay right here. Nopony's going to approach you." Now, admittedly, the mare didn't exactly look threatening like this. As seconds wore on, I had no choice but to relax and settle down on the floor in like fashion. It wasn't like I had the energy to be tense for too long, anyway. When Redheart opened her muzzle again, I perked up and raised a brow at the words to follow: "I brought somepony I'd like you to meet." Into the room stepped another earth pony with a beige coat, dark brown mane, and blue eyes, wearing a freshly-pressed green bowtie. He was a stallion! "Greetings, good chap. My name is--!" The introduction was cut short when I cannoned straight into his legs. The stallion stumbled, barely catching me and rocking with the momentum. I gripped him tightly and stared up with intensity, waiting for him to return the look with a shocked expression before I spoke. "Will you help me?" My voice was small and hushed, as though on some level I didn't want Redheart to hear. He paused, blinking, but after many moments gave a firm nod. "That is my intention, Heath." I didn't question how he knew my name. I was too desperate for any measure of support. "Thunderlane left me..." I was going to say more, but sudden emotion closed my throat. I must have looked quite pathetic, sitting there with giant teary pony eyes and a sad little frown. The stallion wrapped me in a tight hug, leaning close to whisper in my twitching ears. "My name is Time Turner. I won't." It took longer than my pride liked at all to pull myself together. This colt body was putting me through all the emotion and, unlike before, I didn't have the maturity to suppress it. Rivulets of salty water spilled from my eyes and left wet splotches all over my face and his coat. He started gently rocking and humming some melody in a soft baritone voice, which did help to some degree. I was doing my best to not be present in those moments, but it was like his presence forced me back to reality whenever I tried to mentally leave. Eventually, it all just petered out and I slumped in Turner's grip, utterly spent. It was only then that I could escape, going momentarily to a brighter place. When I returned to awareness, we'd left the room and were walking down the hall, Redheart leading and me leaning into Turner's leg for support. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes I'd spent away, but I was grateful nonetheless for the break. Sorry for just summarizing things, by the way. I figure you know enough now to not be as interested in the finer details. Right! Past tense! We ended up in a lounge I recognized from yesterday, with the same unicorn mare holding a clipboard waiting inside. She had an unpleasant sort of look on her face and I hated the way her eyes tracked me across the room as we made our way in. I half-expected her to lick her lips or something, the predatory vibes were that strong. Probably the only reason I wasn't freaking out was because I had my good pal Time Turner right there. With me very much on edge, we made our way to the sofa and sat across from her. "The purpose of this meeting is to finalize foster proceedings and restate the situation plainly for transparency's sake," the violet mare said, her gaze lingering on my lethargic form. I returned the stare, making every effort to look defiant despite my lack of anything resembling energy. "Heath was found and brought here from Ponyville's border. There are no records of any colts matching his description in this or any surrounding town's databases. He has not told us much about where he is from or his herd and, colts being as they are, will not easily provide much more information." It was unsettling how accurate that statement was. I had no intention of sharing anything I hadn't already; the more they knew about me, the more they could use to inflict harm. This mare clearly understood much of my thought process, then. All the more evidence to show she was up to no good. Truthfully, I didn't know why I was going along with all this. Maybe because I was so discombobulated thanks to suddenly waking up in ponyland. Perhaps Time Turner and--to a smaller extent--Redheart were appealing enough that staying with them until I figured things out didn't seem like a bad thing. It could possibly have been that I had no better alternative anyway. What was I going to do, walk out? Try and dig my way back home? No, obviously not. A plan was beginning to form, though: I'd bunk with the ponies I was sitting between and together they'd be able to hold the rest of their herd off. I'd gain access to a library or archives and study dimensional travel to see how I ended up here. Once that was done, I'd contact the nearest wizard or whatever and say my goodbyes. Simple, right? And yet every step of that plan leaned on far too many unknowable factors. Would I really be safe with the rest of their herd? I knew magic existed here and was used quite casually, but that didn't guarantee any kind of multiversal study. And even if these ponies knew about other dimensions, that didn't mean I'd be able to access or find my home. Despite the flaws in my plan, I found my spirits lifting with hope. For the first time since waking up here, I actually had a plan of action. I wasn't pessimistic enough not to appreciate that much. "...you and your herd are to care for Heath as your own until then," Violet Mist addressed Redheart. I realized I hadn't been paying attention at all, which was bad seeing as current events were dictating my future. Luckily, it seemed nopony had directly tried to interact with me. "If new evidence reveals his actual herd aren't abusive, as is possible and perhaps likely, he will promptly be returned with all due apologies." I found myself bristling at that. Even though I hadn't gone into detail or communicated more than a look, the idea that they were already prepared to disbelieve me hurt. Moreover, being somehow returned to my family... I had to wonder what lengths they might go to. Suddenly, going back to earth didn't seem all too great anymore. "Try and get all the information you can. If holes in Heath's story appear," I was absolutely certain I didn't imagine the dangerous glint in Violet's eye, but just as sure that neither earth pony I was sandwiched between took notice, "I will ensure swift corrections are made." My glare was weak; I knew who held the authority here and I was well aware of how powerless that made me. There was no chance anypony could learn more about me. If any more information got out, Violet Mist would make my life here miserable. Redheart and Turner might even get caught in the crossfire. The meeting continued, but I was too enervated to care. A prickling anxiety was beginning to take hold. If I screwed up, let something--anything--loose, that would be it. Game over. Violet would ensure I never saw the light again. One more burden to carry, I suppose. Sorry for the fragmented thoughts. I'm not making much sense, am I? The truth is, that mare really intimidates me. The fact that she can so easily ruin everything, it... ...well, it reminds of home. She's got an amount of power over my life that I can only dream of having. Oh, the fond memories that brings. At this point, I'm kind of collapsed against Turner's side. I feel heavy bags under my eyes and the urge to close them is only intensifying. I blink slowly and slip deeper. Hey, sleep doesn't sound too bad, y'know? No, wait! I can't... there was something...! ...Oh no... ... ... I jolted awake atop an incredibly soft surface, the scent of strawberries invading my nostrils. Reaching my forelegs around revealed I was moving on something long before I could finally separate my crusty eyelids. When they did open, I saw I was draped along Redheart's white back as she walked through the streets of Ponyville. Time Turner's presence beside her helped me calm down, especially when he trotted closer to check on me. That all happened some few minutes ago. I've opted to stay where I am since then; Redheart's back is very comfortable and I don't trust myself not to collapse if left to my own devices. If anything awful were to happen, it'd be when I was unconscious anyway. If the view from the hospital was stunning, now, in the midst of the streets, I'm utterly breathless. Ponyville is practically drowning in small-town charm. Something that does catch my attention, though, is how many mares there are. They populate every corner and open space in sight--there's not an angle I can look where I don't see at least three of them. Worse, they're clearly interested in me. They don't even bother trying to hide their prolonged looks or hurried murmurs. Some even follow behind for a few steps, which is terrifying enough that I'm clinging to Redheart as tightly as I can. Sticking with direct sentences is really helping. My mind wants to wander right now and I need to keep focus. I don't think I can concentrate enough to revert back to past tense. I...really need more sleep. I only slept an hour or so, according to Time Turner. Being this tired really stinks. Can't rest. Mares everywhere. We make it to what is evidently Redheart's home. She takes a moment to explain the elaborate symbol on the door--a 'herd emblem,' as she calls it. I recognize the red cross and hourglass inside it from my new caretakers' flanks and I wonder if the other composite symbols come from others in the herd. I'm interested, but Turner opens the door and leads us in before I can ask any questions. Wow, this must be way less interesting for you. What kind of storyteller am I, stripping away all but the barest parts of my words? I'm sorry. You deserve better than that. Let me make it up to you by describing the house. I'll try to stay coherent. The inside of the house is, while not extravagant, certainly not lacking. Elegant paintings are well spaced along the walls, depicting a wide array of landscapes from snowy mountains to rolling hills and everything in between. The living room--or, at least, what I can see of it from the front hallway--is well-furnished with two sofas and a recliner, with a coffee table in between. The ceiling is quite high, but a set of stairs to my left reveals there's at least one floor above it. Once Redheart steps through the hallway, I'm able to take a look at the well-stocked kitchen adjacent to the living room, with many cabinets and a counter that are far beyond the reach of my stubby pony legs. I'm not sure how horse economy works, but my overall impression is that this herd is quite well-off. Aw, crap. That was a lot of 'wells,' wasn't it? That just goes to show how tired I am. I can't even think of any other adjectives to avoid repetition. Hurriedly, I hop down from Redheart's back and duck behind her. Two ponies--females both--are sat on one of the couches, staring me down with far too much interest. This isn't good. The other herdmares are already after me! I edge over to Turner--who's standing around quite easily, as though ignorant of the obvious danger--and frantically tap his fetlock before whispering my request. "Do I have a room?" The stallion opens his mouth to interject. It almost seems like he wants me to 'meet' the mares. All it takes to stop that, though, is one look at my terrified face and the way my eyes track their every move. I watch the words die in his throat as he heaves a heavy sigh. "Up the stairs, far end of the hall. Make yourself at home, Heath." That's all the invitation I need! I'm on the second story and zipping into the room before I can even think to check if anypony's following me. I manage to slam the door closed behind me, but I can't reach the lock on the handle so I lean my body against it as a barricade instead. I'm freaking out. I'm terrified. Please help me. ... ...at least you're here. ... ...okay. Okay. I think... I think they're going to leave me be for now. I can never tell for sure, you see; their changing moods make predicting their actions impossible. Something that incited punishment yesterday might be totally fine now. After all these minutes, though, I can be fairly certain that nothing's going to happen, at least yet. A relief, if small. Nonetheless appreciated. This gives me time to think. Maybe now I can make my escape. I've heard tell of a town not too far from here. If I hitchhike on a few trains, perhaps pausing for directions, I can get there no problem. Supposedly, it's quite friendly. It might even be far enough that they won't find me. Maybe then I can be free. Maybe then, I can live happily on my own, unbothered by anyone. Maybe then... Maybe then, you'll finally forgive what I did. And then maybe you'll actually-- Knock ... Don't worry, it's just Time Turner. He's asking if he can come in. ... I told him 'yes'. Now he wants me to get out of the door's way. I suppose that makes sense. ... It's hard. my limbs feel frozen stiff. I feel so disoriented, like I have no idea where I am. The walls I've been emptily staring at for what must've been an hour now are finally coming into focus. The room looks nice, like the rest of the house. I could see myself settling in here. It's a pretty generic guest room, but that just reminds me of my apartment back in Manhattan when I first moved in. The fun was in customizing it--making it my own. I can already imagine an oaken bookshelf here, a navy blue nightstand there. Some paint on the walls and ceiling. Maybe even glow-in-the-dark stars for cloudy nights when I can't see the real ones. These thoughts stabilize me. I remember where I am, now, and I'm able to step aside, letting Turner in. I feel... better. I'm even going to switch to past tense to prove it. Here we go. "I'm sorry, Heath. We shouldn't have tried to introduce you immediately like that. I thought..." Turner shook himself and settled down, but not before gently closing the door behind him. I sat in like fashion, blinking curiously up at his saddened expression. "...are you alright? I should hope you're not too terribly shaken." It took a moment of introspection for me to come up with a response, during which I scooted closer. Unlike Thunderlane, Time Turner took my need for comfort in stride and draped a foreleg around my small withers. "I'm okay. Just," I took a shaky breath, "don't expect me to be around them. I know they're out to get me." He sighed again and started rubbing my back, causing my shivers to decrease. I shut my eyes and focused on trying to calm down, feeling my heartrate slow. "I'm glad to hear that, Heath. I hate to say it, but..." It almost seemed like he was going to sigh again, but Turner pulled me close to his chest instead. "You will have to get used to relying on mares. My wives are wonderful ponies. They're not out to get you. I promise they just want to help." I didn't believe him, obviously. Maybe they treated him well, but I was a different story. I'd recognized that look on their faces. The light blue one had been all too interested in me and her gaze had wandered all over my body. The grey one had been so focused that her lazy eye snapped into place. I knew what that meant. "Can you please keep them away from me? At least until we work things out?" I wasn't sure he understood what I meant by that, but at the same time, I didn't really care. More pressing matters were at hoof, primarily the fact that I was trapped back in a house with females that wanted to use me. "What about Redheart?" Turner's question actually stopped me short. I blinked a few times and ultimately left my eyes open, staring out across the room. Moments passed with the stallion patiently waiting. Idly, I wondered how comfortable it could possibly be to sit propped on his haunches like this. Not very, I would think. His bowtie rustled as I leaned my head back. "I don't know. I want to like her. Just like I want to trust you." He wasn't surprised by my insinuation, I could tell. We kind of just sat in silence for a while, both processing things and each other. I liked Time Turner; he was the kind of person I could simply sit with. We didn't even need to talk or interact any more than being in each other's presence to come to understandings. I was adamant that his wives were after me--since, y'know, they were--while he wanted me to feel safe here. Slowly, it was like I could sense him making up his mind. Before Turner got the chance to speak, though, I finally processed something he said earlier and interrupted. "Wait, why would I have to rely on mares?" This derailed his train of thought entirely, but that was fine; I already knew he was going to agree to keep his wives off my tail. "Because that is how the world functions, Heath. We depend on them for many things. Why, I don't know where I'd be without..." I slipped out of the stallion's grip, standing and turning fully to face him. Turner saw the look on my face and paused, creasing his eyebrows. "You mean you don't know? How can you..." thankfully, he halted that line of questioning pretty fast. I didn't exactly know how to tell him I was from an alien planet with sapient monkey people and, with how tired I was still, my explanation would probably be even less coherent. Time Turner inhaled deeply and settled back on the floor, curling his brown tail around his side. With me standing and him laying down, we were about eye level. "I suppose I shall start at the beginning, then," he began. My ears swiveled to face him as I directed all of my attention. "Ponykind is a relatively odd race. While almost every other sapient species has an even gender ratio and magical power distribution between members, we... well, my theory is that we evolved quite strangely." Turner straightened and engaged what I decided to call 'lecture mode,' using his hooves to gesture and bring emphasis to things. "Early protoponies and equines were the first and only ones to develop mana pools, which led to increased intelligence and magic use. This gave them a sort of 'leg up' in the race of natural selection. When more members survived, the species thrived. Soon, there was no almost no competition whatsoever, and we were free to live as we wished, left alone by any predators since we were simply too powerful." I cocked my head and laid back down, highly interested in the information. I mean, who wouldn't be? Alien lifeform origin story? Hello? "Wait," said I, "so, ponies are the most powerful creatures and everyone else leaves us alone. Great, but none of that has anything to do with why I'd need to rely on mares!" With both of us 'loafing,' I came up to the base of his neck, but that only enhanced his sagely nod. "You are correct, but evolution didn't stop there. Eventually, everything else caught up to our head start and we needed to find a way to get back ahead. As things were, with power levels evenly spaced, we had a net neutral lead of sorts. But if we could specialize, condensing more magic into fewer individuals..." A lightbulb of sorts flicked on above me and I couldn't stop a smile of eureka. "--So, the more powerful members could fight the competition and survive much better than everypony collectively." Another nod and I realized my tail was wagging slightly from the excitement of discovery. The stallion noticed it too, but opted not to comment and continued instead. "There is much debate in the scientific community over how exactly it happened, but my personal theory," he gave a quick wink, "is that the stallions of old got together and collectively decided to give their power to the mares. I believe our current gender roles were once reversed like every other creature, and in one massive show of chivalry we gifted them the ability to better survive the harsh wilds. Over enough generations of performing the same rituals, nature followed suit and it simply became permanent." My tail stopped wagging. "So, mares are twice as powerful as stallions, and have a leg up on every other creature because of it?" To my horror, Time Turner nodded and cheerfully continued. "Evolution wasn't even done there, however. With mares now so strong that survival wasn't an issue again, continued existence was all but guaranteed. Well, except for the fact that," he blushed. The grown stallion, father of two, actually blushed. "Reproduction requires both genders of a species and now one was significantly weaker than the other. Stallions began to fall prey to just about everything and our numbers declined. It fell to mares to protect us from the world's dangers. As such, natural selection picked traits that best allowed them to do so, while birth ratios began to skew so there'd be fewer stallions to worry about." He nodded to himself, still not noticing my expression, and finished up: "Things have been that way ever since. The fact of the matter is, without as much magic to bolster our bodies, stallions are around four times more fragile than the average mare. And colts like yourself have it even worse, as with no magic whatsoever, you're around eight times more fragile. And that's only the start of how inferior males are!" It boggled me, how he could say that all so nonchalantly. My plans of freedom and self-sufficiency were dissipating before my eyes. Devastated by this information, knowing I'd need to rely on those who only wanted to use me for the rest of my stay here, I could only bow my head. That...this...it was beyond terrible. Mares could do whatever they wanted. In life, to me, whatever. In this world, I'd always be powerless to stop them. If what Turner was saying was true--and it did check out with other things I had heard in passing--then I would never be able to fight back successfully against even one of them. And the stallion wouldn't be able to protect me like I hoped. Not really. I needed some time to process this. Turner finally noticed my reaction and tried to backtrack, but understood what I wanted soon enough. He was sure to leave the door cracked open behind him, saying something about how dinner would be ready in a few hours. Kind of odd, really; it couldn't have been much later than noon. I supposed ponies had meals early. The fact that we'd be eating at all was a relief. I didn't feel hungry at the moment, but experience had taught me that that was soon to change. I knew I should rest until food was prepared, having a young body that needed sleep and all, but even looking at the four-poster bed all neatly made for me couldn't make me feel tired. It was actually kind of funny, in a dark sort of way. I'd stayed up all the night prior in hopes of warding off enterprising females waiting for me to go to sleep, but they could do what they wanted just as easily when I was awake. Looking back, there really wasn't much point to any of it. That did bring another question to mind, though: If they could do whatever they wanted at any time, what had stopped them? Why weren't they barging through the door at this very moment to have their way with me? Too many witnesses? Societal expectation? Some base level of decency? Pacing circles through the guest bedroom, I found my nervous energy required an outlet. After rifling through the closet and some greyish cabinets, I came across an empty notebook and some pencils. What purpose they served I didn't bother questioning at that moment--I was too busy with cracking it open and beginning to sketch. Now, I wasn't an artist or a man of much talent in general--perfectly average, remember--but I knew the basics and desperation was a pretty good motivator for new hobbies. I could just as easily have started writing a poem or folding the paper like origami, but both of those required more concentration than mindlessly scribbling. Drawing proved to be the exact thing I needed at that moment. Primitive stick figures evolved into clothed people with umbrellas waking down a busy street. I added angular buildings, some light rainfall, and several cars. Lastly, I capped the top with the underside of an umbrella, showing it was from the perspective of another person. All told, it probably looked really bad, but creating the piece was a welcome distraction from the information I had received. I'd show it to you if I could. I know I'd only get your honest opinion. It's a shame I can only describe things. While appraising my work and picking out imperfections, I happened to glance up at the door and promptly recoiled in shock. Blinking and looking again revealed nothing, but that didn't change what I'd seen. Somepony had been watching me! "Hello?" I called out. Seconds passed, but finally a sheepish face showed itself, nudging the door open. An orchid-colored face, to be exact, with a rounded muzzle to boot. Instantly, my eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Er, hi. Heath, right?" My nod was terse and it almost looked like she flinched, but the unicorn still stepped into the room. "My name is Amy." I blinked at the human-sounding name and, perhaps noticing my surprise, she quickly finished. "Short for Amethyst. Amethyst Star." Yeah, that made more sense, though it did conflict with what was clearly a trio of diamonds on her flank. I had noticed that names tended to reflect those markings. And her mane was too dark a purple for it to be that. Actually, wait, it might've been the lighter streak in her hair. "...you're not what I expected," she said quite awkwardly. I raised a brow, bemused, while Amy continued to approach. "I... heard my parents talking about you last night. They said you--" she cut herself off with a gasp, staring at my hindquarters. I discovered a smile forming on my face. A sickly smile. The kind of smile a disillusioned soldier heading on a suicide mission would make. The kind of smile a victim of torture has after keeping tight hold of the information the warden wants so badly. I found a calm of sorts descending on me. I couldn't explain it, but the feeling was a nice change of pace. There was no rage, no fear, no sensation of betrayal. I only felt... something I couldn't really describe. It felt a lot like vindication. "So. This is it, then." I stated with words far below freezing. Amy looked confused, especially at my grim grin. She'd stopped mere inches in front of me. I knew what happened now. "Going to take what you want before the others have a chance? Suppose there's a certain feeling of victory, eh? Conquest?" She blinked her purple eyes, uncomprehending. "...what?" Amy asked intelligently. "How old are you, Amy?" I was almost conversational with this question, even as I laid myself on the floor and pushed my notebook away. "I'm sixteen," she responded, still obviously bamboozled. That was interesting--I would have guessed quite a bit older. She was so tall, I might have even mistaken her for an adult. There was a sort of humor to that. To this whole situation, in fact. A grand kind of humor that'd be sure to get an audience roaring. That, or make them recoil in horror. "Plenty old, then, huh? I wonder where you'll start." I was so bold as to reach out, tapping away at her cannon bone. There was no point in resisting, after all. "The type to mosey on and take your time? Or will you get impatient and head straight for the prize?" I had no idea where these words were coming from. I hardly even felt like myself at that moment. It was like the world had faded to a blur and my emotions followed suit. Something about knowing I was completely helpless, it was like nothing even mattered anymore. This was life. I could already feel myself preparing to phase out. "Oh. OH! No, nonono!" Amethyst Star exploded backwards and shook her head with more rapidity than a fly's buzzing wings. Her mane was sent flying to either side while her pupils shrunk to pinpricks. She panted, suddenly short of breath, and it was several moments before she could speak again. "No, I-I'm not going to..." Amy's face took on a greenish tinge and it looked like she might vomit. "I-I was j-just... I..." She sat, heavily and halfway across the room, taking a deep, calming breath. My brow found itself back against my cherry red hairline, where I was slightly concerned it would take permanent residence at this point. Amy fixed a steady gaze on me, but still looked shaken. "I was sent to tell you that dinner's ready. Lasagna and potato casserole, Dad's special. I'm to escort you downstairs." She stood, then, and cantered through the door before turning to look back at my prone form. "If you'll follow me...?" I didn't move a muscle. I might've laughed if I wasn't dreading the meal to come. "You really think I'll follow you?" I asked with no small amount of disdain. Amy flinched, shooting me a pleading look. When I failed to react, she sighed in defeat. "I can get Redheart. Would... would that be better?" At my nod, she sighed again and left without another word. The named mare arrived soon after. I still hadn't moved, more rattled than I cared to admit. I had... absolutely no idea what just happened. I'd never reacted like that before. If I'd done what I did with Amy in front of my family, only horrors would follow. Stranger yet was the teen's reaction, as though she somehow found such an act to be exactly as reprehensible as it was, despite-- "--Heath?" Redheart interrupted. She was crouched down with her eyebrows creased in worry, some feet away from me. I finally snapped out of my thoughts and rose from the floor, striding over to her. My face found itself planted in her fluffy, white chest and the pleasant smell of strawberries overwhelmed my senses. This didn't last long--I realized how dangerous such an action was. It felt nice to let myself believe I was safe, though, if only for a moment. "Let's go." I was drained and more or less resigned to my fate. Fatigue found me again and held tight. We took off down the stairs without much ceremony. I stumbled occasionally, but Redheart was there to stabilize my lethargic form. It was only then that I really registered how strong she was. Carrying me must have been absolutely effortless. The dining area was past the kitchen, opposite the living room. It, like the rest of the house, was well-furnished. A large, round table took up much of the space, around which seven cushions were arrayed. Amy's description of dinner rang true, as the same food she'd named sat waiting atop it. Time Turner was waiting for me just inside the doorway and he fell into step on my left, mirroring Redheart on my right. The food was delectable. It didn't have quite the same sheer quality of Thunderlane's stew, but that just meant I wasn't sent into a rabid fit. I couldn't focus too much on it anyway, because I was far too busy tracking the mares opposite. My head was drooping. The bags on my eyes were getting heavier. I... I'm... They're sat on the other end of the table and seem to be making every effort not to look at me. They're still interested. They're plotting, I can tell. I'm so tired. I'm slipping. I'm falling. It's so hard to stay. . . Up. I think... ...I think I'll just... ...