The harsh, cold air whipped around Honey Muffin as she galloped through the streets of Ponyville, but she paid it no heed. Even as the frozen air bit at her exposed neck and chest, she hardly felt it past the haze of confusion that surrounded her, choking her.
She had to get herself under control: take charge of the situation, be logical about it. Bright Eyes must have been delivering the scrolls from Celestia that she'd requested. That was simple enough; she'd requested them from Celestia's scribes almost at the beginning of her assignment. She had intended to compile them in a more organized fashion, since there were so few studies on ponies with mental defects. She'd even considered another degree, using her notes and letters as the foundation for her thesis. Nothing strange about them arriving, really. She'd just forgotten how much time had passed since she moved to Ponyville, is all.
A few ponies turned to watch her as she tore through the streets, their confusion fleeting but brief. Plenty of ponies were running last-minute errands, what with the Winter Wishes Festival almost upon them. One mare tearing through town wasn't enough to raise any eyebrows, even if she was without any protective winter gear.
But why had Bright Eyes opened them? No, that wasn't like her - she never went snooping through Honey Muffin's mail, even though she delivered something for her almost every day. She didn't bother to hide her curiosity, but she never pressured her about it, either. She just liked to be around when Honey opened it, to see what was going on in the far-off place Honey Muffin had come from. Bright Eyes had never been beyond Ponyville's borders - she'd told her that once. It seemed like so long ago now.
Tears suddenly stung at Honey Muffin's eyes, but she kept moving.
Bright Eyes had never received any mail; a cruel irony, seeing as she was a mailpony. The best mailpony, Honey thought bitterly, the tiniest of choked cries escaping between her gritted teeth. Honey Muffin had found it a little annoying at first, the way she waited for her paycheck to be mailed to her every week. After the efficiency of Canterlot, Honey Muffin found it a little ridiculous that a mailpony would demand for her paycheck to be sent to her home, wasting the efforts of some other mailpony on such an insignificant thing. But during all of the months that she had been there, Honey Muffin had never seen Bright Eyes receive any other mail, except for the paycheck. It was her sole letter, and she delighted in it, eagerly checking the mailbox for days before its arrival.
It broke her heart, to think of how callously she'd viewed Bright Eyes when she'd first arrived. Thinking her childish for enjoying her one thread of equine contact, trying to sneakily determine how disabled she was to take such joy in a single letter.
Honey Muffin's gasps had become half-sobs by the time she reached the edge of the Everfree Forest, her chest heaving from the effort. She was more of a bookworm than an athlete - but still she pressed onward, moving slower as she tried to find something to follow. Bright Eyes was flying, but what she lacked for in hoof prints she might make up for in broken branches, or parted clouds, or something. She refused to believe that she could just disappear into the forest, never to be seen again.
That's what she'd done, though, for so many years. She had lived on the very edge of the Everfree Forest, like a hermit. But -! She would have gone back to her old house, how could Honey Muffin have overlooked that?
She broke into a run once more, ignoring the shooting pain in her legs as she galloped along the edge of the forest. It should be right around - there! The path, already intentionally subtle, was almost invisible now, grown over and choked with vegetation. But she could see a few freshly-broken twigs on the floor of the overgrown trail, driving Honey to gallop once more. The branches dug into her fur as she tore through the overgrowth carelessly, but she refused to slow down.
"Bright Eyes!" She cried out as the small cabin came into view. It wasn't very deep into the forest, just a few yards in, although the dense vegetation kept it all but invisible to the outside.
She'd only been here once before, and only very briefly; she shabby little cabin looked even shabbier, and the faint patches of moss that had begun to grow up its sides had now dominated most of the walls, and seemed to be staking a claim on the shingled roof as well. There was a dark gash where the shingles had caved in, but Honey Muffin hardly noticed it as she galloped towards the front door. She had to fight her way there, the garden now overgrown to jungle-like proportions. With a final yank of her tail, she freed herself from the garden's brambles, pushing the door open with her forehead.
"Bright Eyes?" She repeated hopefully, chest heaving as her eyes danced around the interior of the cottage.
She scanned, twice, hoping she had somehow missed her friend's wall-eyed visage, but it was no use. The cottage was empty. Bright Eyes, if she had ever been here, was gone.
She stood in the doorway for a moment, the cold settling into her bones, then slowly walked inside. She plodded over to a rough-hewn wooden chair, settling herself down as it creaked dangerously under her weight. Everything was covered with a heavy layer of soil and decay; in the months that it had lain abandoned, time had not been kind to it. The caved-in roof brought a beam of sunlight to the otherwise dim room, its one window too weak to provide much illumination. Only the furniture remained, but even that only gave the barest hints of what it must had been like to live here. There was a pile of straw in one corner, moldered away to almost nothing, and a fireplace in front of the small, lopsided table and chairs. Small stubs of candles scattered here and there, along with the small weeds and sprouts that had taken root in the dirt floor without any pony around to clean them up.
What would she do? How could she leave Bright Eyes out here, utterly alone? Honey Muffin was her friend; and to be honest, Bright Eyes was one of the most loyal friends she'd ever had. She was kind, and sweet, and funny in her own strange way, sharing in-jokes as gleefully as a schoolfilly. A tremulous sniffle escaped Honey Muffin as she stared down at the weeds, wondering if her tears would provide enough moisture for them to survive indoors. She was nice. She put up with Honey Muffin, much more nicely than half of her schoolmates had; she didn't think Honey was too studious, or too much of a neat-freak. She didn't get mad when Honey wanted to line up the plants in the garden just so. She listened to her when Honey went off on her rants about improper citations, even when she didn't understand what a citation was. And even if she thought Honey Muffin hadn't noticed, she always came in to check on her in the mornings, just to make sure she was okay.
Eventually, Honey Muffin pulled herself up heavily from the chair, doing her best to stifle her whimper with a foreleg dragged across her nose. She moved where her eyes had lingered on one of the weeds, weary and disinterested. This one had bristly-looking flowers, ones that Bright Eyes would have probably eaten, "just to see how it tastes." The memory brought a small chuckle to Honey Muffin, making the sadness that followed all the more unbearable. She watched the weed for a moment, her thoughts unfocused, and found herself idly brushing her hoof over the dirt beside it. Her eyes slid away from the weed a little lazily, tears blurring her vision as she pulled her hoof back to look at the dirt underneath it. There was her hoofprint, just as she'd known it would be.
But there, too, was another one, just beyond it.
Honey Muffin's thoughts abruptly crystallized as her vision seemed to narrow, unable to see anything but the hoof print, and the one after it. And the one after that, too. A line of hoof prints, leading to the back of the cabin - no, to the door inset in the back of the cabin, barely noticeable except for the faint thread of sunlight around its edges.
Honey Muffin surged forward, heaving her shoulder into the door with all her might. The moss-leaden door swung open, revealing the clearing that surrounded the little cabin. The line of hoof prints continued forward, disappearing into the undergrowth. Honey Muffin charged ahead with her eyes locked on the ground before her, following the trail of hoof prints deeper into the Everfree Forest.