"What do you think it is?" said a distant voice.
"I dunno, let's poke it," replied another voice, closer than the other.
"Uh, that doesn't seem like a such good idea..." a quieter voice added meekly.
I awoke slowly to a steady pounding in my head, its cadence matching my heartbeat pump for painful pump. The hard abrasion of uneven stone could be felt under me, along with lapping water against my face. As it trickled into my half open mouth I could taste the saltiness that came with sea water. I would've spit it out, but couldn't find the energy to do so, and as the warmth of the day combined with the comforting sounds of ocean going birds and the crashing of waves against rock, I found that I didn't want to. Nature, of course, had other plans.
A particularly ambitious wave decided it was time to outdo its friends by being higher than its peers and poured over my face completely, filling my lungs with seawater. I went into a fit of coughing as I choked on the salty water and was forced to open my eyes only to blind myself by looking at the noon day sun.
"Ow! Damnit, what is it with the sun blinding me recently! Thanks a lot Pe-whatever your name is!" I ranted, flailing around as much as possible to accentuate my point, "Blessings of the sun my ass..." I trailed off as the group of voices let out a collective gasp.
I tried to get my hands under me to pick myself up into a sitting position, but found that my body didn't want to move like I told it to. It felt like I was a turtle on its back; unable to force my center of gravity off my side.
"Sh-should we help it?" the meek one asked, her voice that of a child with the undertones of an accent I couldn't place.
Wait a minute...
"It? Hey kid I know I'm not the handsomest of men, but 'it'? You really know how to kick a guy when he's down," I grumbled, trying again to open my eyes.
They gasped again in surprise, and I heard a clopping sound like wood on stone or a horses hooves. Some small communities in Europe still used horses, but from what I could tell they were far too young to be riding on horseback. They may have had ponies with them, but I dismissed that thought out of hand.
"Sorry mister, it's just that... we've never seen anything like you before," said the closest voice. It was young and boyish while sharing the accent of the other. "We'll help you up in second."
'Anything like me?' I was sure I'd just heard them wrong.
By this time my sight had started to recover enough to pick out shapes and some color, and could make out three distinct blobs of grey moving towards me. Again I heard clopping sounds as they approached me. One of the figures thankfully blotted out the sun as it loomed over my head, offering shade to my agitated eyesight.
With the sun no longer an issue my eyes adjusted quickly, giving what I was seeing more defined shape. I looked into the face of my youthful savior and froze.
...
...
...
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
My sudden screaming caused the tiny zebra to scream as well, which in turn renewed my own cry of terror.
"Holy shit! Talking zebras! Get back, back I say!" I yelled as I scrambled to my feet only to fall backwards and land on my already throbbing skull with a resounding crack.
Two concussions turned out to be too much for my abused head, and I abruptly passed out again, entering once again into blissful unconsciousness.
"Uuuuggghh, my head is killing me..." I groaned as I rejoined the waking world.
'That is the last time I accept cigarettes from an Austrian. Those guys'll put weed in anything,' I promised myself, remembering the pot-bellied pilgrim I'd run into the day before my fateful climb. He'd been a nice enough guy, just too happy, and now I knew why.
Dragging myself from my thoughts, I became aware of the straw mat wrapped around me and the soft pile of hay acting as my mattress. The smell of herbs and cooking fires drew a rumble from my stomach as they wafted through the air.
'How long has it been since I've eaten,' I thought to myself hungrily.
I opened my eyes to find myself in a tent of some kind, a tepee if my guess was correct. Jars and masks were laid out along the walls of the abode, framing the area around a fire pit. Flames cracked from the small branches arrayed below a hanging pot of darkened metal, sending up a grand smelling aroma from the smoke. I heard the voices of the villagers outside going about their daily routines. They must have been gypsies of a sort, though I'd never heard of gypsies using tepees. Then again, one could never truly know all there was to know about gypsies.
'They must have found my unconciousness body and nursed me back to health, though I'd be lucky if they didn't steal anything. Scratch that, I'm lucky to be alive at all after a fall like that.'
"But mother I-" a familiar voice said from outside the tent.
"No means no child. Do you wish to see the villages troubles compiled," a much more mature voice replied as the speaker stepped into the tent.
Choking on whatever greeting I'd planned on saying, I proceeded to hyperventilate as the speaker was revealed to be another talking zebra.
'Okay, I wasn't high, I'm crazy!' I tried to say, but all that came out of my mouth was indecipherable babbling.
In reaction to my freakout the older zebra hurried to where I laid and placed her hooves on my shoulder, holding me down as I began to thrash.
"Please stranger, calm yourself and listen! Seeking to help you is our only mission." she soothed, attempting to calm me down. "While my son and daughters were out to play, they spotted you're body among the waves. So they dragged you all the way to the village and me, hoping for help and my remedies."
My breathing began to slow at her words, even if the rhyming gave me a headache. If I wasn't high at the time, then I'd met a sun deity earlier that day anyway, and if I could stomach that, then talking zebras should've been easy.
'Now that I think about it, don't these zebras look a little familiar...'
The realization hit me like a fifth of tequila on a Saturday night; the stature, the overly large, adorable eyes, the outline for Christ's sake.
"No, nah-uh, nope, no, defiantly not, I refu-NO!" There was no way that I was where I thought I was.
"Stranger please, I am confused, what is it that you refuse?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.
"No I... You know what, I'm strangely okay with this," I said to no one in particular, calming down from my hysterics as I assessed the situation, "I mean, sure I have no idea where I am, relatively speaking, but I'm not dead, and isn't that what counts?" I looked up at the zebra who still had her hooves on my shoulder, making sure that my thrashing wouldn't damage anything. "I'm afraid I've been terribly rude. I haven't even asked for your name yet."
She shifted her weight off of me with a warm smile, and trotted over to where the blackened pot hung over the fire. "Pay you no mind, my name is Zecarien. Would you give me your own, if you don't mind my asking?"
I was about to tell her my name when a thought occurred to me. Daniel Weathers likely wasn't a name that would be considered normal in Equestria, if that's where I was. The show never really explained if it was a country, or the world the name referred to. Regardless, I had to tell her something. I thought briefly about faking amnesia but that was just unoriginal, and I doubted I could keep up the charade for long anyway.
Then I remembered that Pe-what's his face already gave me a name. It already sounded like a name you'd hear in the show so why not?
"Star Thought... My name is Star Thought." I replied, testing to see if the name clicked. If it did, I would be using it for a while, and I wanted to get comfortable with it.
"Very well, Star Thought. For what purpose have you come to our island, seeking adventure or knowledge widened?" she quarried without glancing away from the brewing pot.
I decided that I would answer her question with rhymes of my own, if only to see her reaction. There weren't many people in modern society who found entertainment in poems, but when you spend your life traveling, the best friends you have are books. Tolkien had always been one of my favorites, and he'd never been above a good poem.
Closing my eyes, I began to concentrate on the words to best describe myself.
"From distant shores and far away lands,
My home is as far as my journey spans;
On leaf, on wind, on stories spun,
Under moon, and sky, and morning sun."
"Little is known, and much is learned,
For knowledge kept is knowledge spurned;
My quest is earnest, my purpose pure,
For what I seek is evils cure."
"One cannot see what lies ahead,
When sun is dark and moon is dead,
But Pelor's light will guide my way,
To gentle heart and evil's bane."
When I finished my eyes opened to find Zecarien looking at me with a slight grin on her face. "There is wisdom in your words young Star Thought, and insights that can never be bought. It is rarely seen in a young life's zest, but now I think it's time you rest."
"Sorry Zecarien, but I think I've rested enough. I actually feel better than usual," I replied as I attempted to stand, finding it easier to do from the pile of hay.
Placing one foot on the ground, I heard a strange sound issuing from the dirt floor, the clop of a horse hoof.
'Well shit...' I thought to myself, 'I should've realized something like this would happen.'
I braced myself for the worst as I looked down at the offending extremity, finding a hoof sticking out from under the straw mat. Taking in a slow breath, I looked over to my stripped savior for answers.
"Zecarien?" She cocked an eyebrow, waiting for the question forming on my lips. "What do I look like to you?"
"What you are I do not rightly know, I couldn't even tell if you were friend or foe," she began, looking into my eyes with a piercing gaze, "But if what you look like is what you ask, I believe my eyes are up to the task. A strange mix of pony and dragon you be, kin of both, but somewhere... in between."
'Oh bloody hell, I'm a kirin! Those things were a bitch to kill in Monster Hunter. Now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure sunny said something about kirins.'
I flipped the mat off myself and gazed at my transformed body with almost morbid curiosity. The golden fur of my back and shoulders contrasted sharply with the shining scales of brighter golden hue running across my underbelly and legs. A dragon like tail moved idly around on the floor, ending in tassel of white fur like the mane that was now finding its way onto my face.
"Oh god, I need some air!" I announced suddenly, managing to get to my hooves, and clumsily made my way to the tent flap.
"Please wait, the treatment is not yet done! Now is no time for frolic and fun!" Zecarien called after me as pushed my way out of the hovel.
Opening the flap, I was greeted with a sprawling village of tents and wooden hovels stretched out along rocky cliffs. The cliffs formed a bay of churning ocean spray and stood roughly a hundred meters above sea level. From where I was I could make out jagged spires of stone at the base of the bay, and my stomach churned at the sight. Falling from a cliff would do that to you.
I kept a good distance from the edge, weaving through startled villagers who leapt out of my way as I moved my uncoordinated hooves in an awkward cadence through the settlement. Some shouted at me when my clumsiness caused them to drop what they were carrying in their haste to clear the path, but I couldn't understand what they were saying. For a reason that escaped me it came out as some form of swahili.
"kuangalia wapi utaenda, mgeni!" an angry looking local yelled as I pushed past him, my larger frame aiding me in my bid to find solitude. Roughly, I was a head taller than the zebras that made up the crowed, and that only seemed to hinder my ability to not bump into everyone I came across. My tail was also an ever present problem as it swished back and forth behind me, tripping the unwary as I made my way to the village gates.
Guards armed with wooden spears blocked my path, speaking in hurried ramblings as I moved between them. I was starting to get used to my new body, and as I moved through the gap left by the guards I broke into a nervous gallop. The wind rushed past me as the cries of the armed zebras faded into the distance, giving me a surge of adrenalin. I'd never felt so free in my life.
The rocky crags made for difficult terrain, and I almost ended up diving face first into the stone several times, but after a few close mishaps I managed to get a feel for my hooves.
Several minutes of steady climbing passed, and as I crested the bay's rise I was met with a glorious view of the open ocean. The pastel colors of sunset framed the shimmering waves as the light refracted off them like glittering shards of glass, bringing to mind all the paintings of such scenes while putting them all to shame at the same time.
I sat down on the outcropping of stone, still warm from the mid-day sun, and let go a contented sigh. So what if I never returned to earth. This world opened up a whole new horizon of possibilities.
'No wars to keep me from exploring new places,' I thought to myself with a degree of satisfaction, 'And ponies! I mean, who would pass that up?'
I looked out at the horizon with growing anticipation of things to come, and thought of another poem to express my situation.
"All who seek home are on journeys,
Not all who wonder are lost;
When one seeks a world without boundaries
Thoughts of family and hearth are the cost.
Through valleys, rivers, and shade,
Over the grass, the rocks, and the clay;
The journeyers home can be found as they roam,
Below the clouds of a summers mid-day."
Smiling, I turned and made my way back down the crags toward the village. If I was going to continue my journey, I needed to get a clear view of where I was, and I knew just the zebra to ask.