Big Mac watched as the gray stallion, whom Mac decided to call Wild Slate, circle the herd. Wild Slate would stop occasionally to greet one of the members before moving on. Big Mac watched as the stallion paid special attention to each of the foals in the group, which were a lot. It seemed almost every mare had a foal with them, and all of them in some way looked like Wild Slate.
A young teenaged colt pranced around, following Wild Slate. The foal had a white coat, splattered with a light brown. His mane and tail were, however, black. The colt kept trying to catch Wild Slate's attention. When the teenager wasn't trying to bite at the stallion's tail, he was trying to entice the younger foals to play. No luck however, so the colt moved on to the next most interesting thing; Big Mac.
The colt pranced right on up to Mac, completely unafraid of this new stallion in the herd. He gave a squeal that ended in a nicker. Macintosh watched as the foal vibrated in excitement. In any other situation, Mac would have thought of this as endearing, but not right now. Right now, Big Mac needed to figure out where he was, how he got here, and how to get home. He turned his back on the foal, going over everything in his mind.
When did the violin start talking to him? What did it want? What did it tell him. Mac knew it had told him something just as he was transported here, but he could not remember. Mac shook out his mane and snorted, frustration washing over him. It was illogical anyways, for Big Mac knew he could not get himself home. His only hope was if the princesses decided to come after him. He knew they would try. His sister was an Element of Harmony, she wouldn't let them say no.
Twilight would probably come after him as well. It was only a matter of time. Comforted in his thoughts, Big Mac turned around. Only to come snout to snout with the teenaged foal. Mac jumped back in surprise, rearing slightly. The teenager stumbled back, just as surprised. Mac settled down and snorted angrily, stomping his front hoof once.
'Dont do that!'
Wild Slate, who had been grazing with one of the mares, lifted his head. The gray stallion looked right at Big Mac, but did not approach. He looked between Mac and the foal, wary but curious. How would this stranger treat his foal?
The yearling himself lowered his head and clicked his teeth several times.
'Please don't hurt me.'
Maybe it was the foals body language, maybe it was old equine instincts coming to surface in Big Mac, but he understood submission when he saw it. Mac sighed at the foal, stance becoming more relaxed. The yearling leaned forward and snorted softly in Big Mac's face. Mac copied him, and the teenager's mood did a 180. The now extremely excited foal galloped circles around his new friend.
Big Mac rolled his eyes, but smiled. This foal was so much like Applebloom.
The mare that was grazing next to Wild Slate bobbed her head and pawed the ground. She had a simple brown coat, her mane and tail the same shade. The entire herd stopped grazing and trotted over to her. Mac followed, new instinct demanding he stay with the herd. The mare nickered before rearing. She turned on her hoof and started a medium paced canter off in one direction.
The herd lunged after her, following her lead. The young foals kept pace. Wild Slate took up the rear, and Big Mac galloped to catch up. The teenaged foal was running next to Wild Slate, practically bouncing like Pinkie Pie. Wild Slate nipped at the foal's rear, forcing him to hurry up. Wild Slate and Big Mac brought up the rear of the herd, flanking them. At the lead was the brown mare, her nose up into the air.
Big Mac looked around as he galloped, worried. Should he leave the spot where he had been transported to? That was probably the first spot anypony would go looking for him. But who knew what would happen if he was on his own. Mac was no survivalist. His best bet was to go with the herd, and hope he was close enough to be found.
The herd galloped around the bend of a green hill, a large valley hidden just behind it. A river flowed gently through at the far end. On the other side of the river was a tall forest. The lead mare slowed as she reached the river. The herd gathered at the bank, drinking their fill. Big Mac looked at the water.
You were never supposed to drink water you were unsure about. Boil it first. Macintosh looked around and sighed. That wasn't practical at all. Anyways, wasn't drinking running water better than still water? The red stallion sighed before lowering his muzzle to the cold water. He took a sip before greedily gulping down the fresh water.
Stepping back, Big Mac looked around. The herd was now grazing, all except for Wild Slate and the teenager. Bother were looking around, almost checking for something. Well, Wild Slate was. The teenage was just copying his father, not really sure what he was doing. Wild Slate looked over at Big Mac, flicking an ear. Big Mac turned and scanned the area, curious what the stallion was looking for. Whatever Mac did, put Wild Slate at easy.
The gray stallion pranced over to the river, before getting his drink. It was then that Mac understood. He was in the wild. The wild had predators. Wild Slate had been looking for predators, unable to relax. Once Big Mac had started to look around, taking sentry duty, Wild Slate could get a drink.
A sense of duty filled Big Mac, and he looked around carefully. Eyes and ears sharp. Wild Slate finished drinking and walked over to the lead mare. He started to graze next to her. Several mares lifted their heads, looking around. Mac relaxed. The entire herd was watching over each other.
A whinny grabbed Big Mac's attention. The young foals had all gathered together, chasing each other around. When two of the foals got close, they reared up, playfully fighting. The teenaged colt tried to play as well, and it worked for maybe a minuet.
The yearling started to play fight with one of the younger colts, but he overestimated his strength. He shoved too hard, sending the baby rolling over his own hooves. Big Mac winced. The younger foal sat up, a look of surprise on his face. He then scrunched up his muzzle, crying out for his mother. His mother lifted her head and neighed back to him. The foal galloped over to her, rubbing up against her side.
Wild Slate looked up and over at the teenager, snorting and stomping his hooves at him, before going back to grazing. The yearling huffed before trotting of towards the river. A leaf floated by, catching his attention.
Big Mac watched in amusement as the foal jumped into the shallow part of the river, grabbing the leaf. He flung his head back, sending the leaf over his shoulder. It landed on his flank with a splat. The yearling nipped at the leaf before rolling over in the shallows. The leaf started to float away again. The foal gave chase.
Big Mac smiled and snorted.
River Leaf
Mac looked over at the teenager once again, the leaf now held in his mouth.
'Yes. River Leaf'
River Leaf pranced over to Big Mac, holding his prize high.