Dense forest turned to light forest, which then turned into hilly plains dotted with an artist’s palette of wildflowers. I had covered a great amount of distance easier than I would have with two legs used to sprints instead of marathons, yet the day was starting to take its toll. A large tree was the perfect spot to lay down and stretch; after all, I didn’t want to cramp up from galloping.
“Why are you a pony?” a familiar, rough voice asked, his tone weary.
After a startled yelp on my part, I realized who’d snuck up on me. “No clue, any ideas? Good to see you again though, Dave.”
“And female? This is a bit too much for me to handle.” He threw himself onto the grass and sighed. “What did you get us into this time? And why are you being so pleasant? Honestly, it’s kind of creeping me out.”
“Not what, where. I’m pretty sure we actually made it to Equestria! Isn’t that exciting?” My grin wasn’t as infectious as I’d hoped, and I figured it had something to do with the bags under his eyes. “You’re not acting entirely like yourself either, though. Are you alright?”
“I’m just stunned at how calm you are.”
“Bull.” I snorted before eating a flower. “Om nom nom.”
It tasted like, well, a flower. The stem had a bit of a snap to it—halfway between celery and crisp lettuce—and the yellow petals were delicate, soft things I wouldn't have noticed if they didn't give the whole thing a slightly sweet, bitter flavor. There was no strange, mysterious flavor only us leaf-munchers were privy to, just what a flower should have tasted like. My tastebuds bickered between each other like school-children. Part of me thought it should have been disgusting and questioned why I'd put such a thing in my stomach, but another whispered, “Hey, that was kinda good.” Either the flowers sucked or salad dressing was huge.
“This is what I’m talking about. For someone who lost their species and gender, you’re disturbingly calm. Hell, you just ate a flower.” Dave rested his head on his hands, yawning loudly. “This is messed up.”
“He started it. I am a herbivore now, you know. Great, I just realized that means no more bacon. Oh! Maybe there’s a veggie version. Haycon or something.” My mind wandered back to memories of sizzling bacon, only the moment I remembered the heavenly aroma or taste, I had to fight to keep my stomach down. The memory still insisted it tasted phenomenal, but it was like something had connected it to a recollection of the sickest I’d ever been. That’s a low blow, universe. This wasn’t over. “Eh, I’ll just skip the bacon.”
“Maybe it was magic? Would have to be something pretty powerful to make someone hate bacon, and that excuse would probably work here.”
“Could be, but I get the feeling it isn’t. Know what I mean?”
“I’m the only one who can. But no, not really.” His chuckles abruptly turned to harsh coughs.
“You’re roughed up pretty bad. How did you even manage that?” Figuring it was time to get back on the road, I pulled my hooves under me. “Think you can walk? I’ll keep it slow for you.”
He nodded and followed alongside me. My legs ached to run again, but I was genuinely worried about Dave; it was a feeling more bizarre than being a pony. He limped slightly, and I noticed him rub the back of his neck a couple times, wincing each time he did so.
Curious about the time, I looked up at the sun. Surprisingly, I could actually look at this sun without frying my retinas. Maybe it was the same reason as why it needed to be raised by Celestia in the first place. Never really trusted our sun anyway; a giant ball of gas in space that someone flicked a match at just didn’t sit well with me. And don’t even get me started on black holes.
“You’re taking a lot of this for granted. How do you even know that was Camelot? There could be any number of pony universes out there, if that’s even why you’re a pony now. And let’s say we are in Equestria; how much of it is going to be what you know? I doubt the show got every last detail correct.” He tripped over a particularly deep hoofprint but managed to keep upright.
“I don’t, but Canterlot sounds better than ‘Giant, Sparkly City on the Side of a Mountain.’ Stop avoiding my question though: why do you look like you’ve been wrestling bears?” I stopped and arched an eyebrow at him.
He struggled not to laugh. “That is hilarious. You have no idea how adorable it is when a pony makes a facial expression.”
“Dave...”
An exasperated sigh escaped his lips as he stopped and leaned on me for support, throwing an arm across my withers. Just as I was about to ask again, he spoke weakly. “The Void was … terrible. I don’t know how you did so well, but it was far less kind to me. Maybe it’s because of all that information zipping around in there mixed with being just a figment, but I don't know; I don’t want to know. It hurts just to think about it.”
Then came the most shocking thing I’d ever seen: Dave began to cry. “We weren’t supposed to see that place. Nothing was.”
Digesting what I had just heard kept me silent. Dave had remained stone-faced through all sorts of horrors back on Earth. He hadn’t shed a tear at the planned suicides we’d found the aftermath of several times. His mouth had been a straight line as I executed, as an act of mercy for a bitten friend, the last human I would ever see. Yet, here he was, sobbing like someone who’d noticed he was out of toilet paper after he’d finished his business.
“Climb on.” I kept my voice gentle. “You could use the rest, and I don’t know how much further this road goes on.”
The path was as long as a freeway and nearly as straight. I could only imagine how the planning went:
“Right, we need to build a road to Canterlot. We can see it over there, so let’s get to work everypony.”
“But, sir! Shouldn’t we map the area and design a route?”
“No, curvy roads are stupid, so we’re cutting through everything.”
“But—”
“Two hours dungeon! Who else wants to think this through?”
And then they would have a song number and everyone would learn a valuable lesson about questioning their crazy boss.
“So, are you going to just stand here?” Dave asked, his legs kicking in the edge of my view. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like camping out here. It’s too open.”
“Didn’t even notice you climb on. You don’t weigh anything, after all.” My hooves moved at a pace just shy of a gallop. “This alright?”
“I’ll manage. Giddyup, girl.”
“Don’t push it.”
”I don’t know how you deal with it. Shouldn’t you be freaking out over everything that’s changed?”
“We’ve been through worse. What, am I supposed to break down into a sobbing mess because the universe stole my penis and turned me into a herd animal?”
”I wouldn’t judge you for it, and I’m certainly glad I didn’t get the same treatment.”
“Not dead, will manage. Wait, wouldn’t it be borderline sexist to care about a gender flip?”
”Of course not. That’s ridiculous. Being concerned about a drastic change to your identity has nothing to do with prejudice.”
“Uh huh, sure. If it makes you feel better, I’m sure you’d be a very pretty pony.” If Dave could have seen the accompanying smirk, I’m certain he would have done more than grumble incoherently and fall quiet.
Our amicable silence didn't last long before he asked, “So, you're a female pony now. Did you have any idea this would happen when you were putting that machine together?”
“Nope. The device wasn't the cause though, I know that much. I have no idea how much longer it would have taken to gather everything if I had to factor that in as well.”
”I see.” Dave's fingers scratched against his eternal stubble as he mulled over the possibilities. “How different does everything feel?”
My hooves tangled momentarily as I considered his question, but remaining upright was a matter of reflex by now. His question made me realize how alien my own body felt. The feeling of my missing fingers was almost present from the memory of them alone, but no phantom sensation actually plagued me. It was as if what I remembered of them was nothing but a fanciful dream.
Locomotion was easy once you found the rhythm, and it felt like I was moving on four legs instead of two legs and arms. That's not to say my arms had gone the way of my absent digits; it was more like they'd been repurposed. The dirt and small rocks crunched beneath my hooves, but other than the barest hint of tactile information, it was muted like they’d been covered by a pair of thin mittens. If I really wanted to feel the texture of something, I’d probably have to use my muzzle.
The most off-putting parts of the transformation would either have to be the weight hanging off the end of my spine or the constantly twitching and highly emotive ears. Those things were going to drive me insane if they kept swivelling towards every chirp and rustle. The bronze medal went to the new parts rubbing against each other with every movement.
Having a fur coat should have been more obtrusive, but aside from a general feeling of fuzziness and feeling slightly warmer, it wasn’t anything too bizarre. In a way, it was like the hair atop my head as a human: you just got used to it and didn’t pay any mind. Static might end up being a problem though, especially if wool was a popular textile.
Dave listened as I gave him the best explanation I could: a shrug and an “I dunno. Different, I guess.” Maybe not the best way to describe it, but it's what he was getting.
He grumbled to himself over my lackluster answer, massaging his eyes with a shaky hand. “Fine. Those voices tell you what to do next? Still don't trust them, but look around. They produce results.”
A correction against the hunches being called voices almost snapped at him, but was cut off with a snort. My words died at the realization of how relatively quiet things had been inside my head.
At first, the trip and the body switch were the only factors contributing to the myriad of awkward sensations. The more the quiet plagued me, the more obvious it became something was missing. That enigmatic guardian I'd grown used to trusting was nowhere to be found. There would be no more last-second impulses to pull me out of the fire.
“I—I can't feel anything. I think they're gone.” Admitting it left a feeling of dread inside my mouth.
“Just like that? Enjoy the ponies, but I'm out of here? That's… suspicious, to say the least.” All I could do was nod and continue to poke at the vacant part of my mind. It was like running a tongue over the spot a stubborn piece of food used to claim. “Why here though? And don't you dare say 'because ponies.' Why would those hunches direct you here of all places, instead of the realm of endless nachos or something?”
“Maybe they're lactose-intolerant?”
”And aren't you forgetting something about back home?”
I actually needed to stop walking to ponder what he meant by that. A hornet's nest of thoughts buzzed around my skull, each piece of information struggling to find a parking spot only to have it snatched away by a raging soccer mom in a crowded minivan. Suddenly, it dawned on me. “I left the stove on!”
The sound of a hand meeting a face came from my rider. ”I meant the other people you planned on bringing. If any had made it, I mean. Do you really think most of them would be okay with showing up here even if they didn't get smacked with the change-stick as much as you?”
“They could have built their own device to tear open the fabric of space and time.” My machine, my choice of destination, and so help me, if anyone touches the radio... “Besides, Equestria is the only place I knew how to reach. Somehow. Either way, I like it here, even if you're the only one to share it with me.” A desolate chill scuttled across my nape. “Let’s not talk about the others. We escaped, and that's what we’re dealing with.”
”I suppose you have. It just feels like there's more to it. Can’t quite shake the feeling we were played for fools.” Dave begrudgingly relented and sighed. ”I need to rest for a moment, but just keep going.”
Pondering everything Dave had said earlier kept me occupied as I plodded on. I was going to be pissed if I had to learn new names for everything. A new language? Forget it.
“Hey, Dave, you doing alright ba—” I glanced back to find myself short a passenger. “Oh. Bye then, I guess.”
A rumbling stomach told me it was food o’clock, which meant more roughage. Thoughts of an actual meal prevented it from being anywhere close to filling.
A soft “plip” struck the ground beside me. After a totally-and-completely-justified shout of panic, I frowned at the little speck of damp earth and its brethren that soon followed. Towering storm clouds were rolling in from my left, bringing a veritable curtain of water with them. It was going to get dark early.
The rain came in hard and fast, soaking my coat and mane within moments. Soggy clothing may be as uncomfortable as hearing your parents talk dirty, but it's still nothing compared to the misery a water-laden coat of fur brings to the table. My mane had been so thoroughly drenched it remained plastered to me at all times like a bad toupée.
A muddying road and endless onslaught of droplets were all I could see in my narrowing field of vision. If I'd risked leaving the road to find shelter in the countryside, there was a good chance my path would vanish in moments.
Banshees howled into my sensitive ears, bringing dismal portents of suffering, death, and the score of the next Cubs game. Twitchy twitc—knock it off. A small part of me revelled in the company the storm brought, although I would have baked a casserole if they’d bothered to call ahead of time.
“This isn’t fair! I didn’t even say it couldn’t possibly get any wor—horseapples.”
On cue, the torrent doubled.
“Well played, Equestria, well played,” I conceded.
The downpour was so strong each individual drop stung as it struck from the heavens. I tripped more than a few times, becoming more earth than pony with each fresh coat of mud. Even when lightning lit up the sky, I could barely see more than a couple steps to either side. Judging by the lack of lightning rods, I wasn't running near fast enough.
Shadowy figures appeared with each flash, but they'd always vanished by the time the next arc snaked across the crackling sky. Energy saturated the clouds, looking very much like tin foil in a microwave. The raw power overhead worried me, but not as much as the figures I kept catching glances of. I couldn't even tell if they were humanoid, equine, or something else entirely. One thing was certain, though: they were there, watching and waiting.
The flickering flames of a burning tree danced on the horizon, and all I could think of was the fleeting warmth the fire would bring when I passed it. Another flash of lightning revealed the far better truth: a small building standing stubbornly against a storm George Clooney wouldn't have risked. I felt like singing, but in a holy-shit-it’s-shelter way, not an inappropriately-timed-musical way; not to mention the lack of catchy music.
Lightning struck again. Yet, this time, it was uncomfortably close and sent me stumbling out of surprise at the figures revealed within touching distance. Mud and hooves tumbled through the air as I fell off the road. I hadn't even noticed nearing the edge.
If you've ever gone tromping through a marsh, you know full well boots are a likely casualty if you haven't prepared. Hooves may not get as cemented into muck as footwear, but they're also unremovable, unless there's an entry in the instruction manual I never received. Cold mud claimed all four of my legs, and a layer of rank water on top meant only my head was still getting pelted by malicious raindrops.
“Help!” I screamed after spitting out a mouthful of swamp water. I doubted anypony would hear me over the storm, but the house was so close. I called out again. And again.
Apparently, the storm thought I was asking it for help and replied, "I got this, bro, I'll just wash that mud away," and the rain increased further. Oh good, I’d always been a fan of pneumonia. I wasn't sure whether it would be the filthy water or beings in my peripheral claiming their prize, but this pony wouldn't make it easy.
I tried again to free myself, grunting and straining against the almighty suction, but my efforts were in vain. Something slapped me in the muzzle painfully, and my struggles to escape increased as whatever I’d seen made its move.
It took a muffled shout to stop my frenzied thrashing. “Grab it!” It sounded like a whisper, but had an intensity to it that could only belong to someone using all the volume they could muster.
I bit down on the rope as hard as possible while squinting to make out the shape of my rescuer. The rope went taut. Honestly, they weren’t exaggerating about how sturdy a pony jaw was. Squelching noises came from beneath me as we made the smallest amount of progress. A flash revealed a pony not five feet away from me, straining against the rope with all their strength.
Another flash revealed a pegasus backing into the air, a thick rope leading from their mouth to mine. Suddenly, with the sound of a cork flying from a bottle, I popped free of the mire and clambered up the small embankment. Rest would have to wait just a little bit longer.
Hesitation was left in the mud as I scrambled after the figure, who retreated toward a rectangle of light, frantically motioning for me to follow. Oh, no thanks, I thought I’d just stay out there in the rain and mud—it was quite nice once you got used to it.
With a sodden thump, I collapsed onto the wooden floor, gasping for air as the door slammed shut behind me. Hoofsteps hurried away from me and up some stairs. My breath still hadn’t returned by the time I felt a pile of cloth drop onto me.
“Here,” the stallion said. “Let’s get some of that mud off you before you get in the bath.”
“Th-thanks,” I chattered, realizing only then how frozen I felt.
“Save it for later. You look soaked to the bone and then some, and you’re going to get sick if we don’t get you warmed up and cleaned off.” He hastily wiped at my rear legs, and I heard the soft sound of mud hitting the floor.
Grabbing the towel between my hooves, I vigorously cleaned my head. The thick towels muted the feeling of hooves against my skull, though I did clock my muzzle a couple times before getting used to working around it. The pegasus trotted around me and wiped off my back with a few quick strokes.
“Rest is all you, ma’am. I’m going to go get that bath started for you. Just leave the towels on the floor, and I’ll get them later.” Back up the stairs he went.
“Ma’am?” I muttered confusedly. “Oh, right. That’s still going to take some getting used to.”
He had left my hindquarters and belly untouched, and I guessed those were slightly more intimate places. My stomach was somewhat easy to reach with my hooves, but I needed to grip a towel in my teeth to clean off my flank. Turns out ponies are crazy flexible.
“There.” The muddy towel fell to the ground as I stood, rolling my neck as I did so, and surveyed the room.
The room was larger than I would have expected a home’s foyer to be, but a counter to my right suggested it was a lobby of sorts. To my left sat a dining area whose boundaries were marked only by carpeting, and four large tables surrounded by cushions rested within. An archway with saloon doors sat in the back, behind the stairs, and an “Employees Only” sign hung next to it.
What occupied my attention the most was the lighting: small wrought-iron lanterns. However, they didn’t have candles in them, nor did they have the lightbulbs I was used to. A small orb took up most of the space within the glass, shedding a bright, but not blinding, light over the area. There was something about them that enthralled me. No matter what, I had to figure out how those things worked.
The stallion still hadn’t returned, but the sound of him working upstairs hadn’t stopped. His timely save left me feeling grateful, and I wondered if he needed any help around the inn. It didn’t look like anypony else was staying there. Maybe there was a ritzier hotel all the other ponies—holy shit, I’d just been rescued by a pegasus. I found a pony! My train of thought didn’t just derail—it turned sideways, flipped upside-down, and crammed itself into a narrow tunnel.
That pretty much clinched it: I had to be in Equestria. When it became obvious the portal hadn’t dumped me anywhere close to civilization, my hopes of meeting a pony so soon went right out the window.
It didn’t take long to remember he wasn’t just a pony; he was also the first sapient I’d seen in years. Was I more excited for meeting a pony, being rescued, or having someone to talk to? What was I even supposed to do in this situation?
My hooves obnoxiously clacked against the wooden floorboards as my nervous dance continued. I didn’t remember doing that before, but hopefully I was just noticing it because of the noise. Not wanting to look like a bathroom was necessary, I forced myself to stop fidgeting, but my new-fangled legs refused to stop twitching. When was the pegasus going to get back? He was going to be on the receiving end of one hell of a hug.
“You should be good to go,” the tan pegasus said as he returned. “Bath’s the first door on the left, can’t miss it. I’m going to go put the kettle on to boil and start up some soup, if that’s alright.”
He stepped back warily when he noticed me moving toward him instead of the freshly prepared bath. “Erm, Miss? What are you doing? You’re tracking mud everywhere.”
His common sense had unwittingly postponed my ambush. “My bad.”
The pegasus trotted into the back while the stairs failed to stop me from reaching the bathroom. My expectations were of a bathroom similar to one on Earth, except, you know, with a pony in mind. However, this room was only for bathing, and as such lacked a sink or toilet. It was going to be fun to learn.
There were two large, empty tubs that could comfortably fit five ponies at least, and they occupied most of the room’s left half. The right was delegated to five, much smaller stalls, one of which had wisps of steam lazily drifting from under the curtains serving as its door.
I tentatively tested the sudsy water with a hoof, and then the rest of the leg when said hoof proved to be a terrible thermometer. Confident I wouldn’t be flash-cooked, I eagerly climbed down the steps and enjoyed my first warm bath in years, praising whatever pony had invented plumbing in this world.
Holding the supplied brushes in my mouth—and ignoring the other bite marks on the handle—to scrub all the grime off, I smiled as my fur returned to a less brown color. Not that there’s anything wrong with brown; it just isn’t my color. I swear to Celestia I’m not a colorist.
Much to my surprise, Equestria had a plastics industry, if the bottles of Connemaran Font shampoo—that had to be a horse pun, I just knew it—were anything to go by. Thankfully, everything had pump heads, so it was only a little awkward to get it on the brush. Equestrian shampoo still burns like hellfire the second it gets in your eyes, though.
It took a while to get to the point where I could consider myself clean and another while to dry myself off, but it would have taken much longer if it’d been a bubble bath. Pony hair is decent enough at repelling mud, but gets a zero out of five when it comes to water. I’d met sponges less absorbent than me. One half-assed brushing of mostly-dried mane later, I had a suitable bedhead my mother would have disapproved of had she not been zombie chow.
The smell of a hearty meal led me down the stairs before I had a chance to overanalyze it and end up breaking my neck.
“This smells great and looks better,” I said, taking a seat in front of the bowl and end of bread. It was somewhat graceful until my rump settled into the cushion, and I couldn’t help but call out, “By Celestia’s beard! This is one soft cushion.” I wasn't kidding either. It was like sitting on a bunny made of clouds.
He looked at me until the kettle whistled somewhere in back, and he stood up eagerly. “I need to get that.”
The soup didn’t smell like he’d done anything to it, but it was hard to focus on anything over the savory aroma caressing my nose. Surely he wouldn’t mind if I started without him; my stomach felt like it was about to pull itself out of my throat if it didn’t get some of that stew.
The delicious flavor almost sent me into a coma. The stallion was a fantastic cook. It was difficult to hold the bread between my forehooves without squashing it, but I needed to learn how to feed myself eventually. That thought made me pause: walking and eating were just the first two things I’d need to relearn. There was an entire societal structure waiting for me to bumble through it.
A steaming cup of tea was placed in front of me, and I quickly swallowed what was in my mouth so I could say, “Thanks. I owe you one.”
“Now that everything’s out of the way, I’ll gladly accept it.” He chuckled a bit at his own joke. “I’m Soft Down, it’s been… interesting to meet you.”
My eyes widened and my pupils shrunk to pinpricks. I barely managed to stuff another chunk of bread into my muzzle to buy some time. I’d known I was forgetting something! Crap, think of a good earth pony name! Flower Pants? No. Garden Party? No. Clever Pun? Tempting, but no. How about Ano—don’t even finish that thought.
Time ticked on, and just as it was about to be awkward… I still had nothing to say and the situation valiantly stepped into awkward silence.
Soft raised an eyebrow. “Is everything alright? Is something wrong with the bread?”
I shook my head, the gears still turning within. That was it! I swallowed and spoke what I knew would be my name for the rest of my stay:
“Gears.”
No wait, shit, that felt too short. I needed a first name. Go go gadget random word.
“Sterling Gears.” Eh, good enough.