Knock, knock. The Doctor rapped on the door of the house with one of his front hooves. He realized as he did this how odd it would seem for the occupant, whoever they were, to open the door and see a horse waiting there for them. But he couldn’t think of any better way to get their attention. Besides, he thought, he wasn’t just a horse. He was a talking horse. A talking horse fluent in English, for that matter!
The door opened, or rather, it half-opened. He hadn’t noticed it before, but the door (and the doors of the neighboring houses, for that matter) was like a stable door: split in half along the middle. The top half opened and the Doctor found himself facing a creature almost exactly like whatever he had become.
This one was different than him, of course. She (he could tell somehow that it was a she) had a gray coat, and a lemon-yellow mane. More oddly, her large golden eyes seemed to be facing in completely different directions.
“Hello,” said the gray horse-creature, slowly. “We don’t usually get many visitors at this time of night. Are you looking for Carrot Top?”
“Y-yes,” stuttered the Doctor, a little bit startled to be talking to another horse. “I mean, no. Who? No, I’m really just looking for a place to stay for the night.”
The gray horse’s face brightened. “Oh, that’s good,” she said. “Carrot Top’s asleep and probably doesn’t want to be woken up. I was just sneaking down to get something out of the fridge.”
“You’re… a horse,” said the Doctor dully, “A horse with a fridge.”
“I’m a pony,” rebuked the gray pony. “You don’t seem to be from around here. What’s your name?”
“I’m the Doctor,” the Doctor replied, relieved to finally be in a situation he had some familiarity with.
“Doctor who?” the gray pony asked.
“Just the Doctor,” responded the Doctor with a note of satisfaction in his voice.
The gray pony narrowed her eyes at the unfamiliar pony standing in front of her. “I don’t think I’ll be allowed to let you stay if you can’t even tell me your name. Carrot Top wouldn’t like that.”
“No—wait!” the doctor yelled as the door started to shut. He didn’t want to mess up his chance to find lodging for the night. “Yes, I am a doctor. And I have a name. I’m Doctor…” He cast his eyes around, looking for inspiration for a false name. His attention was drawn back to the odd form he seemed to have regenerated into. “Dr. Hooves! That’s my name. Yes, Dr. Hooves. Now may I please come in?”
The gray pony’s jaw dropped. “Hooves?”
“Yes, Hooves,” the Doctor replied anxiously. Why couldn’t he have thought up a better name? What was the likelihood of a pony being named Hooves? The very idea—
“That’s my name, too!” exclaimed the gray pony happily. “My name’s Derpy Hooves!”
“Well, Derpy…” the Doctor said as he breathed a sigh of relief, “Shouldn’t you be letting me inside now that you know my real name?”
“Of course!” said Derpy, as if she had forgotten what he had asked for. “Come on in!”
Derpy unlatched the bottom half of the stable door and led the Doctor inside. “We have a guest room that’s not being used,” whispered Derpy. “You can stay there for the night.”
“Thank you,” the Doctor whispered back. He assumed they were whispering so as not to wake “Carrot Top”, whoever that was.
As Derpy turned to lead the Doctor to his room, he noticed that she had a marking on her flank just like he did. But hers was different from his own, depicting what seemed to be a stream of bubbles. He considered asking her about it, but then decided against it. Better that he avoid asking anything that could potentially jeopardize his relationship with his host.
They went up a staircase, with some difficulty on the part of the Doctor, who had only just gotten started walking with four legs on flat ground. When they finally reached the top, they were in a narrow hallway. “Here we are,” said Derpy, “Second door on your left.”
“Thank you,” the Doctor repeated. “I really should be—“ He was interrupted by a loud rumbling from his stomach.
“Actually,” he said sheepishly, “did you say you had a fridge? I haven’t eaten in some time.”
“Oh, sure!” said Derpy, seemingly forgetting that they had been whispering. “It’s back downstairs in the main room. Do you want me to get you something?”
“No, that’s quite alright,” the Doctor said quickly. “I can get something myself, if you don’t mind.” He was starving, but he knew from experience how difficult it was to adapt to food when in a new body. And with him in the body of a completely different species, it might be safer to try eating without witnesses.
“Oh,” said Derpy, looking a little bit disappointed. “In that case, I think I’ll turn in for the night. See you first thing in the morning!”
She turned into the first door on the left and closed the door. The Doctor, happy to be done talking with the wall-eyed mare, turned back toward the staircase to the main room. He took one step down, tripped over his front legs, and tumbled headfirst down the stairs.