Love and Tolerance

by Final_Draft

Journey

Love and Tolerance
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic © Hasbro & Lauren Faust
By: TOO S0BER

“Ahhh,” I sighed slowly, the steaming hot water pouring over me.

What was it about hot showers that felt so rejuvenating? And for some odd reason, I was enjoying it far more as a pony creature. My muscles had been greatly tensed from the stressing events beforehand (Hoof? Arrugh!), and greatly needed some relief. I even felt my wings loosen and managed to stretch them just a bit, albeit quite limited, within the confines of the shower. It fitted this smaller body a lot better than my significantly larger human body. Frowning as I remembered numerous baths that could have been so much more relaxing if the damn tub was just a bit bigger. Indeed I was pleased knowing it was very true, although shrinking wasn't the way I thought the idea would be proven.

After a few minutes longer, I finally decided that I needed to exit the shower. Moving a bit closer to the single faucet that controlled the water, I sat down in front of it, then used my stubby forearms to turn the nob clockwise. A few turns later, the flow dwindled from a firm, continuous stream to barely a dribble, and that didn't last long either. I felt my sobbing wet tail sticking messily to my backside, and could partially see my hair, or mane rather (horse terminology wasn't completely unknown to me), clinging around my lower face. I felt heavy, even; makes sense since a fur coat would hold onto water, as opposed to 'waterproof' skin, where the water mostly glides off. Briefly I recalled a friend's birthday pool party where I refused to swim because I didn't have a bathing suit present. Although that didn't stop Marcus and Ashley from encouraging everyone to toss me in anyways. The weight of my clothing felt like it had tripled, like I was wearing a suit made of lead instead.

Soaking wet, a smile crept across my face – at the thought of something I had, for some reason, always wanted to do. Tensing, I shook my body back and forth like a dog after crawling out of a pool. Shaking only helped to minimally dry me, and it knocked my hair completely in my face, making sight difficult as everything turned brown. But it wasn't any less fun! Thankfully, the curtain remained closed and the water stayed in the shower.

Without hands, I didn't even bother trying to draw the shower curtain open, so I simply meandered through the far opening, being extra careful about my steps, not quite sure about four legs yet. On the bathroom floor below me, two large blue towels had been spread out across the floor, with two more neatly folded on the small counter. Normally I'd only need the one drying cloth, but now it would require much more.

I had partially planned out how I would dry myself before even stepping into the shower. Every mundane move that had been done a certain way now had to be thrown out the window, and repeatedly returned to the proverbial drawing board; eliciting a concentrated frown from me.

Sitting down on one of the towels, I grasped one of the folded up towels in my mouth and tossed it in the air, watching it, and adjusting the position of my target head. Streaks of brown vision turned almost black as the cloth landed over my face – perfect. Stretching my forearms out from under the towel, I began trying to rub all around my face and neck. Attempting to squeeze the majority of the water from my coat in those areas. It took much longer than expected as I rubbed, and re-rubbed, and rubbed again; the damned fur just didn't want to let go of the water! The towel feeling heavy was the only indication I had that it was taking at least some of the water, still being surrounded by pitch blackness.

After I was reasonably sure my top half was dry I shrugged off the towel, and began work on my lower half. That proved a little bit more difficult, since normally, I would use my fingers to better curve the towel around me. Blunt hooves made that exceptionally impossible. Grasping another drying cloth from the counter (I swear I could taste lint now), I twisted around and delicately separated my tail, which still clung to my hind legs (jeese this was weird!), it took far longer than I thought, and I felt myself getting a headache at trying to accomplish the impossible task. After several attempts at trying to do the same for my mane, as well as a few choice curses, I gave up; instead electing to try and brush it. Grumbling, I cursed the loss of my fingers (again), trying and failing several times to pincer-move the brush. Stupidly, I thought about using my mouth, only to realize that I can't brush my hair with my mouth because both were attached to my head. I snorted at myself, mentally berated.

Eventually I hit the 'sweet spot' and got a decent hold of the thin, plastic handle. Standing on two legs, so I could garner the necessary height to gaze into the mirror, I braced my now mostly dry chest on the cold countertop's edge. A death grip on the brush, desperate not to drop it, I started stroking; slow and deliberate. Wincing as new knots were yanked out with each stroke. Before I had shorter hair and didn't even have knots to worry about. Come to think of it, my hair was short enough that brushing wasn't even required. It wasn't a military cut, I just preferred it short. With that thought in mind, another interesting one occurred to me: when was the last time I used this thing?

The thought caused me to drop the brush, and I cursed aloud. Looking at me in the mirror, I decided that was enough of that. I wasn't going to spend another minute trying to get a grip on that thing again.

Frustrated, I stepped down from the counter, and pondered; what about the wings? Should I just let them air dry, or attempt to do it myself? I recalled how sensitive they were when I first touched them. Truthfully though, that may have just been numbness from sleeping on them. Maybe they were fine now?

Only one way to find out, I thought, slinging one hoof over to the opposite side. Gently I prodded the same area I had before. I smiled, there was indeed more sensation than expected, but nothing like the angry insect bite I had associated it with earlier. Now I closed my eyes to concentrate a bit more.

I focused on my back, all thought bent on feeling the appendages. In the shower I had managed a small spanning, but now I wanted them to extend full and proud. That itching sensation returned as I triggered new and unfamiliar muscle groups with nerve endings. Suddenly, I felt what felt like hard wood, and on the other side a plastic cloth that gave way at my touch. Two objects came to mind, the bathroom door and the shower curtain – both of which were on the opposite ends of the small room for hygiene.

I opened my eyes, already knowing. From end to end the feathery limbs touched tip to tip from exactly where I imagined. They were glorious! I quickly thought about the size of my bathroom, calculating. Six and a half, maybe seven feet wingspan.

Six and a half, maybe seven feet wingspan. Hot damn!

If my knowledge of wingspan for real planes and jets applied, then that was as optimum as it could get. I sucked in a breath, feeling the relief from holding it unknowingly.

“Yes!” I shouted in glee, jumping up in the air.

Smiling from ear to ear, I folded the wings down from their glory, examining them closer and testing their articulation. They were surprisingly flexible, their range of motion only increased my excitement. The muscles felt a bit stiff, flight would likely take time and much. Much practice; but now I knew. I couldn't help but squee. The concern for making unmanly sounds forgotten.

My ear twitched and turned towards the wall. The sound of a door closing catching my attention. I wasn't concerned, however. I already knew Marcus was in the apartment, probably raiding my pantry like usual. Hey, after all, I did have to unlatch the security chains for him to get in. I frowned, recalling how difficult that had been.

Marcus had arrived on time like he'd always done. Knocking politely as though nothing was different. I had just sat down after finishing the last of the cleaning, and had great difficulty unlatching the damned door. My friend grew concerned at how long the simple task was taking, and began asking if everything was okay. At the time I did not answer, knowing the disconnected, very different voice would garner unwanted conclusions. Eventually the door was opened, and I scrambled to the far side of the room as he walked in. To say the moment was awkward would be a huge understatement.

He walked in and froze. I couldn't see his eyes through the 100% tinted sunglasses that he wore, a piece of fashion formed partially emulating his favorite movie character: Morpheus from the Matrix series. But I think it was safe to say they were as big as dinner plates. I know mine were, as I awaited his first response.

He said my name questioningly, and I nodded.

He asked what had happened, and I shrugged, frowning.

Silence. For the longest time, silence.

He took off his sunglasses, clear concern on his face. I winced, a little too noticeably, briefly forgetting that the new face expressed profusely.

He smiled warmly and simply dismissed the issue, changing the subject to Ashley and asked if I was ready to go.

I hesitated to speak, but eventually did. Inquiring that I had not showered yet. He paused at how my voice had changed, caught off guard – which rarely happened. He sat on the chair, casually.

After a few more moments, he cocked an eyebrow and looked at the shower, smiling. I blinked, and then hurried off to clean up.

I checked myself in the mirror, satisfied that I looked presentable despite it being the first time drying off in such a manner. Expecting my mane to look like a severe case of bed-head, I was very surprised that it looked almost exactly as it had before I stepped into the shower. The same could be said for my tail as well after shrugging off the towel wrapped around it.

I opened the door and walked out slowly, trying to keep my expression neutral.

A milk chocolate skinned man with short cropped black hair sat in the arm chair. He wore ordinary blue jeans, a red colored, collared shirt with a white undershirt beneath that. In his hands was a plastic zip-lock container full of steaming rice, leftovers from a meal a few nights ago.

“Hope ya don't mind,” he said with a mouthful of the chicken fried rice, amazingly he didn't spout any of it. “skipped breakfast.”

“Nah,” I smiled back. This was routine for him, and I truly didn't mind. This time he didn't pause or react to the sound of my new voice.

“Great!” he answered back, digging back into his (my) food with gusto. “I swear, no one cooks better than you Sam.”

I appreciated the compliment, but it was nothing special. Just white rice and roast chicken with a few vegetables like carrots and such. I could smell the food, and for some odd reason I was not enticed by the savory scent. In fact, I almost seemed repulsed by it. Odd, very odd. Chalk another up on the board of 'weird shit' today. That list was getting rather long.

Marcus pounded his chest a couple times, apparently eating a little too fast. He set the bowl aside for a moment and turned his gaze to me. “So,” he said. “you just woke up like this?”

“E'yup.” I answered simply, my expression going back to neutral. I still wasn't sure how he was taking this, but it seemed pretty well considering this was freakishly new.

He glanced at the TV, which was still tuned to the CNN news, watching the human and pony newscasters telling other stories or reiterating older news. He pointed his thumb at the screen and said, “Seems you're not the only one...”

Despite the circumstances, I could not help but roll my eyes as Marcus stated the obvious. “It seems so.” I kept my higher pitched voice even.

Finishing the last few bites of the rice, he set the bowl down for the final time. “A pegasus pony huh?” he rhetorically asked, “That's pretty wild. How does it feel?”

I considered his question, many words came to mind, “Short,” was one of the foremost, so that's what I said.

He snickered at my answer. Before now I was always a good head taller than Marcus, and occasionally I gave him shit for it, now he was two heads taller than me. Oh karma, how ye taunt me so.

“Must be hard adjusting.” He cautiously asked when the snickering died.

“It's been,” I paused, thinking. It hadn't been that difficult; at least not yet. Call me an optimist, but the first day seems to have gone very well. I was more worried about the future. Especially when it came to being around others that weren't friends or family. “Well... it's too early to tell.” I answered lamely.

Marcus simply nodded, understanding.

I pondered a question of my own, “It seems like just my body has changed. My mind, thoughts and memories, are still the same. I'm still me.” I explained, building up to the question itself. “Only thing I can't figure out is why my voice is so... different. Shouldn't it be the same as before?”

Briefly I caught my friend's eyes widen for just a moment, before he quashed the sudden expression. I cocked an eyebrow at him, and asked tentatively. “What?” He didn't answer, he seemed to be avoiding my gaze, and that did not sit well under the circumstances.

I narrowed my gaze a bit, asking a bit more forcefully, “What...”

“Er, uh...” Marcus stared and stammered, but still kept his thoughts to himself. Now was not the time to keep secrets. If he knew something about this, I needed to know.

“What!” I raised my voice a bit more, standing up from my seated position. My eyes narrowed further.

“It's nothing.” He held his palms up defensively, clearly lying through his teeth.

I growled (Really? Growled?) at him. “Tell me, tell me, tell me!” I shouted, emphasizing each word as the phrase repeated. As the last words left my lips I waved my forehooves in the air, stomping them back down. I meant business.

“Okay, okay!” Marcus took a deep breath, looking at me partly sullen. “You're not going to like it.” He warned, trying one last time to avoid the matter. It failed as I glared more intensely at him.

“This is going to sound incredibly random, and very weird,” he started explaining, I felt a stone form in my gut. I wasn't going to like this was I? “but I need you to spread your... hind?... legs.”

What. What? WHAT!?

My menacing glare turned to utter shock. My jaw dropped to the floor, and I felt a burning blush forming on my face. Was he serious? Spread. My. Legs?

Honestly though, I was technically naked in front of him, I slowly realized. But I had, unconsciously, kept my forearms tightly together, blocking any view to my lower regions when I wasn't standing upright. A familiar tickling sensation appeared, my tail reflexively weaving it's way over the... area, as if protecting it.

“You want me to what?” I said, aghast.

He nodded, and then evenly added, “It's the only way to confirm my suspicions.”

My eye twitched. What suspicions? What the hell was he...oh. Oh.

I felt a great chill rush up my spine, coming to terms with my guess as to what Marcus's 'suspicions' might be. I was not going to spread for him, but this was something I could likely determine myself as well. I swiveled away, turning my back to him, and spread as wide as I could. Bending my head down low, staring down into the inner thighs.

I froze, then bolted upright.

I swiveled halfway back to him, feeling more subconscious than ever, the blush returning with a vengeance. I could feel my eyes shrink as I stared at Marcus. He managed a very weak smile, with a pitying look in his eyes. No, it wasn't pity, just a sort of knowing.

“I'm,” my voice croaked, my mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. “I'm... a...” the word I scavenged my head for refused to reveal itself. I couldn't use the other word, it wouldn't apply under these circumstances. Instead I repeated like a broken, and breaking down, record. “I'm... a...” suddenly my throat felt very sore, my nose stuffing up.

“A mare.” Marcus answered. A what? “a female pony.” He clarified.

A female pony.

The words rung loudly in my head. My eyes felt like they were going to bug out of my cartoon-ish head if they got much wider. How was this possible? How?The world began to fade, the ceiling spun and a familiar blackness overtook me. The last sound I heard was a male voice shouting my name.

I breathed rapidly into the brown paper bag that Marcus was holding in front of my face. He told me that I'd passed out, bonking my head on the coffee table. What was with my head getting so friendly with that damned table today. Breaking the revelation to me a separate time, I began hyperventilating rapidly. Hence the paper bag. This went on for some time until I finally insisted I was okay, waving a hoof to dismiss the brown bag.

“A mare,” I repeated once more. Frazzled, but calm more or less. My stare felt like it stretched on for eternity, like my blank gaze could see through time itself.

“A mare,” Marcus confirmed. “Honestly, it's not that bad.” He said, trying to downplay the issue.

I shot him a venomous glare, feeling my eyes mist over slightly. It must have been quite intense, as the half African American recoiled from it. How could he possibly have any idea what was going through my mind right now? He didn't! Therefore he couldn't possibly make such a statement! It infuriated me to the core. It was like chopping off someone's arm and saying get over it, it's only a flesh wound.'!

“I'm sorry,” he said after a moment under the gaze. “I didn't mean...” drifting off, not sure what to say.

It may have explained a few things. I hadn't noticed until now, but I did seem more... I don't know, emotional? I cringed at the stereotype, things I did not like to perpetuate. Come to think of it, why hadn't I caught on to that before? The voice was the biggest, and until I took a peek at myself, and only clue of the other change. Marcus had apparently picked up on it from the first word out of my mouth, so why didn't I? Apparently transforming into a pegasus pony... mare... didn't make me any smarter. A small smile crept on my lips thinking about the intelligence stereotype, and that I may have broken it.

“So,” Marcus was still standing... no, towering... over me. That was going to take some getting used to, as I craned my head to look up at him. “do I need to hang on to this?”

I wanted to say 'of course not', but something told me I may need it again... maybe several times if the day held more surprises like that in store. “Probably.” I replied simply.

“Okay,” he folded the baggy and stuffed it into his back pocket. “should we get going then? You had your shower...”

I thought for a moment. Was I ready to step into the world like this yet? Marcus had been understanding in more ways than one, but what about the other tenants? What about the employees that ran the office? My chest heaved faster as I contemplated the questions buzzing my brain. I tried to slow down my breathing when I heard the rumpling of brown paper bag, waving a hoof to signal I was okay. Not convinced, Marcus kept the bag ready.

“Uh,” I started, heart still pounding but slowing down steadily. “I don't think I'm ready for the public public.” I frowned and looked up at him (okay, gonna get neck cramps soon).

Marcus moved away from me and sat back down, hard, on the lounge chair. He sat there staring at me for several moments while I tried to guess what went through his mind. After a moment, I sat back on my rump. After several more minutes, I lowered my front with some confused difficulty, and sat like a dog usually does; my hind legs contracted beneath me, and my forelegs partially outstretched. He made some comment about me being so good at that already, and I stared blankly at him. Not caring that it was, maybe, a snide remark.

Suddenly, a smile creased its way across his lips. He glanced at me, then at the bed, and then at something a short distance behind me. Grinning brightly, he put the dark sunglasses back over his brown eyes.

I knew that look. He was having some kind of 'ingenious' idea. I frowned nervously, knowing this probably wasn't going to be good for me.

“I know the perfect way to get you through unseen,” he said through his shit-eating grin. That grin disappeared fairly quick. “too bad you showered already though...”

My eyes opened wide, simultaneously my ears shot up too. Huh?

I stared silently into his face as he moved near me, heart racing. Okay, I'm really not going to like this am I?