As I sat on the train, my modest belongings within easy reach, I could see the landscape gradually changing. The trees and lush vegetation were giving way to dried-out trees, prickly cacti, and rocky hills. The green was gradually becoming a palette of ochre and brown tones, while the air itself seemed to grow drier and more arid. The rhythmic clatter of the train accompanied this transformation, as if nature itself was preparing to reveal the secrets of these lands.
A new town was slowly emerging on the distant horizon, rising from the desert expanse. The buildings, marked by the scars of time, exuded an authentic Old West charm. In the center stood an imposing saloon, proudly displaying its dark wooden façade with a sign that creaked softly in the wind. Next to it, a more modest establishment resembled the look of a hotel.
This time, I knew its name—Doge City. Excitement surged within me; this town represented a new chapter in my journey, a place teeming with promises and discoveries.
The scenery unfolding before my eyes brought to mind the images from the epic tales of the Old West I had read so much in my early youth. The desire to wear a Colt at my side and proudly don a Stetson suddenly welled up in me.
I disembarked from the train with a childlike smile on my face, only to be met with a wave of scorching air hitting me in the face, reminding me of the purpose of my presence. I wasn't there to socialize with ponies, but to learn to control myself and break a taboo my mother had taught me.
Making my way to the saloon, I pushed open the swinging double doors with force, greeted by a wave of intertwined aromas. The air was saturated with an enchanting scent of weathered wood, mixed with an indistinct but alluring sweet undertone.
My hooves resonated on the creaking floorboards as I advanced. A sturdy bartender, clad in leather with a scarf neatly tied around his neck, fixed me with his piercing blue eyes. The atmosphere was charged, and the patrons' gazes briefly lifted from their activities. Massive tables, some occupied by lively card games, were scattered about.
Well done, Thunder, you've managed to grab their attention, I thought, settling in at the counter. "I'll have..." darn, what do ponies drink as alcohol? "Your strongest."
The bartender shot me an appreciative look. He turned to the shelves stocked with various dusty bottles, grabbed a flask with a faded label, and poured a transparent liquid into a glass.
I took the glass with my wing, silently grateful that my pegasus form allowed me to handle small objects. Raising the liquid to my lips, I felt the burn descend down my throat.
What he'd served me resembled vodka, although milder than in my original world.
The bartender leaned on the counter, wiping a glass, his expression impassive yet attentive. "It's not often we see a new face around here. Just passing through?"
The term "new face" made me smile more than it should have. "That's right, I'll be leaving the city very soon."
The pony seemed surprised by my answer. "So, what brings you to Doge City, stranger?"
I raised my glass, savoring the warmth of the alcohol while pondering my response. "The desire to explore new horizons, I suppose. And, who knows, perhaps find something unexpected along the way."
The bartender gave a small, knowing smile. "There are certainly surprises in Doge City for those who know where to look."
Our conversation was interrupted by a burst of laughter from a nearby table, where a group of ponies were playing cards. Despite the rugged appearance of the saloon, the atmosphere was warm. I felt strangely at ease, despite being a solitary traveler.
I finished my drink, leaving the necessary coins on the table before adding, "Doge City? I'm aiming for something bigger," and then I left the saloon.
As I set out on the long road toward the Badlands, some ponies from the town turned their heads towards me, displaying a mix of surprise and concern. Their worried looks seemed to say, "Is he really going there?"
I could feel their eyes on me, their anxious murmurs carried away by the wind. For them, it was an imprudent direction, a dangerous territory from which not everyone returned unscathed. But for me, it was a challenge I had to face.
I traversed the hot rocky desert, the sun beating down with scorching rays. Returning to my true form, I could feel my exoskeleton warming up. The mountains drew nearer with each step, and an entrance seemed visible, just as on the rare maps I had seen in the books from the library in Ponyville.
Hours of walking under the blazing sun pushed me to the mouth of this desolate land. I entered the gorge between the mountains, knowing that I would emerge from this desert either as a love-thirsty monster or as a true adventurer.
The gorge was strewn with shattered rocks, clearly marked by numerous earthquakes... Perhaps I should pick up the pace.
Just as that crucial thought crossed my mind, a monstrous rumble echoed higher up in the mountains, followed by a slight tremor under my hooves.
"Oh, fuck !" I exclaimed. Rocks tumbled around me, some narrowly missing me, sending debris crashing against my carapace.
I ran as if my life depended on it, skillfully dodging debris cascading down from above. The tumult showed no sign of abating. Each step brought me closer to the relative safety of the Badlands.
I couldn't say how long I ran, but it felt like I was setting a new speed record, in a tension I had never experienced before.
When I finally emerged from the pass, I was covered in rubble and dust, but I was in one piece, and that was the most important victory. Checking my equipment, nothing seemed to be missing—perfect.
I finally raised my eyes to take in the scenery before me: an ocean of amber and ochre sand rippling under the relentless heat of the sun. The rocky mountains rose majestically, their sharp ridges contrasting against the intensely blue sky.
No vegetation dared to challenge these arid lands. Not a blade of grass, not a bush, only the heavy, stifling silence, occasionally punctuated by the whisper of the wind caressing the rocky formations.
The rocks themselves seemed to have been sculpted by centuries of ruthless sandstorms. Their tormented forms, polished by time, seemed to tell an ancient tale, an epic of survival and resilience against the relentless forces of nature.
I gazed for a moment at the beauty of this simultaneously magnificent and terrifying landscape... Above all, it was a solitary place where I could push myself to my limits without risking harm to anyone with my true nature.
The sun was slowly setting on the horizon, casting warm hues over the seemingly endless desert. The day's heat was starting to dissipate, giving way to a pleasant coolness.
After hours of trekking through rocky mountains and scorching sand, I finally spotted a suitable spot to set up camp. A slight terrain dip offered some protection against the night winds that swept through the area.
I got to work, carefully unfolding my tent and driving the stakes into the rocky ground. My sleeping bag, a faithful companion in solitary nights, found its place inside. The camp was taking shape, becoming my temporary refuge in the heart of this vast desert.
Taking out my writing supplies from my bag, I began to transcribe the events of this first day in this unforgiving and desolate desert.
My bestial hunger hadn't reared its head yet, but I knew it was there, and my struggle against it would be a second adventure in itself.
I eventually fell asleep in my sleeping bag, my dreams still filled with stunning landscapes but also carrying a heavy sense of solitude.
The sunrise set the horizon ablaze, flooding the desert with warm, golden hues. I was caught off guard by the sudden change in temperature, but I quickly packed up my belongings and resumed my journey.
I wasn't wandering aimlessly; I was deliberately heading towards the tallest mountain visible on the horizon. I walked for hours without encountering a soul, except for a few scorpions hiding in the shade of rocks. I had no certainty about their venom, but I was relieved to find that my carapace was far too robust for them.
Finally, I reached the place I coveted: a sturdy, thick base that tapered slightly before culminating in an elevated plateau that overlooked the region. Propelling myself with a vigorous beat of my wings, I had to exert considerable effort to reach the summit of this imposing mountain.
From the mountaintop, the panorama stretched endlessly. The desert sprawled out, punctuated by rocky hills and sand dunes. The sun, already high in the sky, cast deep shadows on the arid landscape.
In the distance, the mountains stood in an imposing range, their jagged peaks seeming to touch the sky. The daylight played on their slopes, creating striking interplays of light and shadow.
The wind blew gently, carrying with it the soft murmur of the desert. Despite the sweltering heat and the prevailing aridity, there was an austere beauty in this desolate landscape, a raw majesty that commanded respect. It was a poignant reminder of the power of nature and its ability to shape landscapes as spectacular as they were formidable.
Despite all the magic of ponies, nature remains the undisputed mistress of all things. It molds landscapes, dictates the rules of the game, and reminds the creatures that inhabit it of their place in the grand scheme of things.
As I once again took out my writing materials, a wave of determination washed over me. I set to work depicting these landscapes in my journal, sketching with as much precision as my modest artistic talents allowed.
It was a shame that so few had the opportunity to gaze upon such magnificent landscapes, caught between the beauty and the danger of these places.
Nightfall was descending once again, shrouding the desert in a cloak of darkness. I felt the fatigue weigh on my shoulders, my aching limbs demanding well-deserved rest. It was then that I made the decision to camp on this mountain. The spot offered a breathtaking view of the desert's vast expanse. A gentle breeze blew, carrying away the day's heat and bringing a semblance of coolness. I settled in, watching the last rays of the sun disappear behind the horizon, giving way to a star-studded sky of breathtaking beauty.
I had found my path, yes, but I had to battle the monster within me to fully appreciate it. I closed my eyes once again, feeling a newfound sense of peace.
Hunger had finally made its appearance after three days of relentless exploration in this unforgiving desert. It was one of the trials I had feared, and the reason I had chosen this place as my first option among all the possibilities for exploration that lay before me.
My mother had taught me that as a last resort, we could feed on the emotions of animals. This practice was frowned upon among our kind, and resorting to such a solution was often considered a weakness. But I no longer cared about the opinions of my peers.
In this arid desert, in this new life, I was now the sole master of my fate. Faced with this situation, with only this option at my disposal, it was time for a radical change in my dietary habits.
My camp was swiftly dismantled once again. Unfurling my wings, I let myself glide to the ground, the sand feeling even hotter against my hooves. I advanced towards the ridge that separated the Badlands from the rest of the world.
It had been hours since I set out, my stomach growling with hunger. But I began to hear something, a faint rumbling in the distance, barely audible. Instinct urged caution, but curiosity got the better of me. I decided to follow this mysterious sound.
Taking all precautions as I advanced, the noise faded, replaced by tremors in the ground rapidly approaching the surface. With a swift leap, I moved aside, lifting off the ground to witness a colossal creature snap its powerful jaws where I had stood just moments before. It was a terrifying sight.
The beast resembled a serpent of unimaginable size, its body covered in deep violet scales. A red frill encircled its pink head, white eyes staring in my direction. Each movement of its powerful muscles stirred up clouds of sand.
"Nop, nop," I murmured in the air. I was prepared to face many creatures in this desert, but not this. I beat my wings as fast as I could to stay out of its reach, my heart pounding, adrenaline coursing through my veins. Each wingbeat took me further from this imminent threat. I was determined not to become the meal of this titanic beast.
The creature dared to give chase, but even it realized I was flying far too high for it to catch me. Its gaping maw closed on emptiness, while its violet scales glistened in the declining sunlight before it retreated back beneath the sand. I had narrowly escaped that monstrosity.
I dared not land on the sand, choosing instead to settle as gently as possible on a nearby boulder. Hastily, I opened my sketchbook and quickly scribbled a rough drawing of the creature I had just encountered, making sure to jot down a note: ask Spike for books on dangerous creatures of this world.
"How do ponies survive encounters with such creatures?"
I pressed on despite the whipping wind, sand swirling in the air and stinging my eyes. The day passed without any other notable incident, the desert stretching endlessly, undisturbed and silent. My hunger began to bring out my predator instincts.
I took respite in the shade of a boulder, seeking a moment of relief in this oppressive heat for the first time. Suddenly, an unexpected sound pierced the desert's silence, immediately putting me on high alert.
A serpent slithered in the shadows, its emotions laid bare before me. The essence of this creature was bland, almost bitter, devoid of the rich tapestry of emotions I had tasted from others in the past. Its feelings seemed to be imbued with a primal simplicity, far from the complexity I knew in other creatures... And it wasn't very nourishing.
I stopped once it had lost consciousness, suppressing a retch at what I had just consumed. In addition to being unsatisfying, the taste was revolting. It was as if every drop of that emotion had left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth, leaving me with an unpleasant sensation...