Have you ever felt like you slept for an eternity? When you finally wake up and take your first conscious drag of air? It feels like your muscles are still fast asleep and your blanket is much heavier than it really is. You go to sit up or slide out of bed, and nothing wants to listen. Sometimes I get like that. It passes though, with time. I have always had a reason to get up in the morning even when I didn’t really want to. There is always something that cannot wait, and that’s okay, because if there wasn’t then I would never get out of bed. I would never wake up.
Cold air filled my lungs and spread throughout my core. The chill rippled across a dozen aches and stirred me from my slumber. I was stiff, almost as solid as the stone I lay on. My whole right side felt rooted to the rock, while my left was gradually shooting up in warmth and throbbing pain. I stretched my legs out, putting off opening my eyes for just a few more seconds of dreamy peace. My left wing took its turn to stretch, and like a rubber band it snapped back against my side with sharp jolt. My eyes flew open, revealing a cave I didn’t remember ever setting hoof in. I was covered up in a woolly blanket I did not recognise, and it slowly came to me that I didn’t remember falling asleep in a cave either. No, I never fell asleep. I passed out.
As if on cue, the pain throughout my body rose up to the surface. I felt beaten and broken, but the reasons why were still hazy. At first all I could think about was a veil of snow of shrieking winds. I winced and tried to focus. I had ascended up the Whinny-Rose Mountains. I… I had reached the peaks just as horrible snowstorm passed, and in dawn’s light I could see the vast stretch of a forest at the foot of the mountains, still fast asleep in the shadow of the valley it belonged to. That… That was the first time I ever laid eyes on The Fang.
That was when I remembered the fall. The terrifying tumble I took down the side of the mountains. I landed on my wing – and no doubt twisted it – and I slammed my head on the ice on the way down. That’s… That was all I could remember. So how did I get to this cave? Who found me and brought me here?
Not waiting for an answer I shakily rose onto my hooves, only to slump against the wall as the floor and ceiling switched places a few times. I screwed my eyelids shut, and nursed a splitting pain on the forefront of my mind.
“Oh gosh! Y-you’re awake!” a sweet voice stammered. “Don’t move, I’ll get Gra-an!”
No, wait. My eyes shot over to the owner of the voice, but I couldn’t see through the white glare surrounding them as they ran off. Was that the way outside? Who was that? Who… ugh...
I couldn’t think over all the throbbing coming from the back of my head. I wasn’t even sure if I’d imagined the voice. I knew I didn’t recognise it, or the form I saw bouncing off into the light. I closed my eyes and tried to sort through my thoughts.
At some point while I was struggling to put the pieces together, a second, older voice spoke.
“You shouldn’t be on your hooves just ye-et, duck,” she spoke with a distinct stutter. “You look quite poorly.”
“Huh?” That was the only thing I could force out of my mouth. I opened my eyes, squinting blindly at someone slightly shorter than me. Even when she walked closer, the glare of the light robbed me of any clues of who they were. I blinked and stared, but all I managed to do was make myself dizzy.
“Here.” I felt a small hoof take my own, and quietly the second creature led me back to the blanket I had been asleep under. I sat down on it, and struggled to make out who it was that was helping me. None of my senses were cooperating. The little hoof released me and went away, but I could just about hear the owner walk around me and murmur to herself. She spoke up to someone else in the cave, where the blinding light was coming in. “Molly, could you bring me the me-edicine bag?”
Little hooves skipped across the floor, and a few seconds later stopped nearby. I heard a loud pop like a cork leaving a bottle, and a pungent smell quickly wafted under my snout. There was a little shuffle, and finally I was told to open wide and don’t try to taste it. I didn’t think to ask why; the headache pounding away in my skull was enough reason to listen. I swallowed something as thick as cold syrup and tasted worse than any medicine I’d ever taken. I don’t think anyone was offended by whatever face I pulled, in fact, I was pretty sure I heard someone giggle.
“Now, just sit the-ere and don’t push yourself to do anything. It’ll take a little while to work.”
“Wow!” exclaimed the sweet voice beside me, who I assumed belonged to Molly. “Gra-an, how come you didn’t say she has wings? I’ve never seen a pony with wings!”
A sharp pain stabbed into my left side and I tore myself away from it.
“Molly!” the second voice snapped. “What have I sa-aid about touching others? She’s really hurt herself, too, you can’t touch her at all! Espe-ecially now!”
“S-sorry…” Molly apologised, sheepishly.
“Go outside and wait the-ere with the others. Te-ell them I’ll be out in a little bit.”
Little hooves scampered away, and the older voice spoke to me, apologising again. She sounded much older than Molly, maybe she was Molly’s grandmother? That’s what ‘gra-an’ could mean. But why did they both stutter? Was it a family thing?
“It’s… okay,” I finally managed to say. Once more I tried to look at who I was talking to, but things were still glassy and vague. But… She was definitely shorter than me – no more than my shoulder height if I stood up I guessed. Her silhouette also had what I assumed to be thick, tightly-curled fur, but at that moment none of it really added up without a bull charging through my thoughts. Maybe the medicine needed more time to get him to calm down.
The elderly voice apologised once more. “Molly’s a little rude, but she doesn’t mean a-any harm. She’s been a hoof-full e-ever since she was born.”
I nodded slowly, vaguely aware that the silhouette had moved to look at my hurt wing. I tensed in fear of it being touched again. The older voice murmured to herself, her words masked by the banging inside my skull, and then she spoke up.
“Your wing looks be-etter now, duck. I don’t think it is broken, but it looks pretty swollen. Oh. Here I am calling you ‘duck’ when I could be asking you your name.”
“I’m Fluttershy.” The response was automatic. At least through the haze of pain I could still remember my name.
“My name’s Cot. I’m Molly’s Gran.”
A smile crept onto my face in spite of my splitting headache. “I’m so glad you’re taking care of me, Cot. I-I wish I wasn’t such a burden on you.”
“It’s all right, Fluttershy, we all have accide-ents. Now, let’s make sure your cuts are healing up fine.”
Cot circled around me slowly, occasionally muttering to herself or asking to part a patch of my fur to check a something underneath. Meanwhile I blinked and looked all around the room, noticing more and more about the cave as my headache subsided. Cot came to a stop in front of me once more, but this time I could see her quite clearly, and everything made a lot more sense. Cot was an elderly sheep with a pale, grey fleece. Her face was wrinkled, making her look of concern more apparent as her golden eyes checked me over with keen precision. The ewe asked me to raise my left foreleg, and tentatively I did.
“Hmm… Now this one looks old, but it’s not healing very well… How did you ge-et this cut above your ankle?”
The one that was… Oh… She must have meant the one I had under a bandage.
“I… Fell.” There was pause until I realised that what I said wasn’t helping. “I fell… In the rain. It was on a rock. Must’ve been… Two weeks? More than that?”
“I’d better take care of it right now,” Cot muttered to herself. “It’s only going to get infected.”
Not again… Thoughts of Timberwolves in Zecora’s hut flashed across my mind.
“No need to tense up like that, duck, I haven’t even got it out of the bag yet.”
Got what out of the bag? Oh. Oh no…
“Okay…” Cot soothed. “This will de-efinitely not hurt at all. Are you ready?”
This is going to hurt so much.
I shook my head, but lifted my left foreleg anyway. I held it out and looked away, expecting the worst. The last thing I expected were freezing chills coursing from my wing. A gasp escaped me, dragging in cold air to match the chill at the shoulder of my wing. I spun my head around to look, seeing Cot putting the last knot into an icepack she tied against my sprained wing.
“There-re, I told you it wouldn’t hurt,” said Cot, giving me a crafty smile. “Better?”
I could already feel a bound up knot of nerves and muscles loosening at the root of my wing. I managed to nod under a few shivers.
“Good– ” Cot barely finished the word before she poured a bottle of liquid onto the old wound on my ankle. Searing pain tore through my flesh, and with a scream I ripped my leg away from the bottle and pulled it in toward my ribs. I grit my teeth, fighting back any urge to shriek again. I swore I could hear the mixture sizzling, it certainly felt like I had been scalded, and when I finally found the courage to look, I saw nothing but a raw, red wound on my leg, and a sickly ooze that was quickly being cleansed by whatever it was that had been poured there. I looked over to Cot, and met the frown of the elderly ewe.
“Y-you said it wouldn’t hurt!” I sputtered, blinking away tears.
Cot stepped forwards, carefully taking my foreleg away from my chest and carefully examined the wound. “Only the ice pack, duck; the disinfe-ectant was de-efinitely going to hurt. It’s better to not e-expect it. Sorry about that, but the worst is over, now. Please forgive me.”
I didn’t like how long I hesitated before I forgave her.
About ten minutes later my headache was just faint a tingle underneath the lump on my head. I reached a hoof behind my head to check it, and felt a wave of relief when it seemed to have gone down a little bit already. Cot had packed up her medicine bag and gone outside to tell the flock how I was doing, and I was waiting for her to come back. I took the alone time to check myself over, just to be sure I was okay.
My left wing had been tied down to keep it still. Cot said that I’d probably sprained it while falling, but it would still take up to a week to fully heal. I didn’t like the idea of being grounded in a new, unknown land, but I didn’t have time to rest. My last chance to get my Element of Harmony back could be a matter of days away, and I could not risk losing that chance – healthy wings or not.
My right wing didn’t look much better, and guiltily I admitted to myself that it wasn’t the fall alone that had left my wings in such a mess. Preening, washing, all the little things every Pegasus was supposed to do with their wings had fallen out of mind shortly after… the event. I didn’t want to imagine how bad I smelled, or what my mane looked like. But two… Three weeks of not bathing? Rarity would be horrified!
“Yes… Rarity would be horrified.” I muttered, dropping my gaze down from the vision of Rarity’s shock. I had done so many things – so many stupid things – to myself since I lost everypony, and only now was I really thinking about it. Crossing the mountains the other night was the worst of it. It nearly cost me the one thing I had taken for granted, and had also started to hate the most about myself. What was wrong with me? How selfish had I become?
I had to be better. I had to take care of myself, if not for me, then for them. There was a promise I made, and it was to gather the Elements of Harmony. I made it with my heart, but I was going to need much more than my heart to see it through. Finally, I understood that, right after nearly… nearly...
No, let’s not go there. There are other things to think about, like Kinsmeer. How was I going to get there?
I had to walk all the way there. I had no other choice. But could I walk for hours and hours after what I’d done to myself? Cot was confident that walking down the mountain would be easy, even after seeing the old wound on my foreleg. Cot probably knew best. With the way she worked on my foreleg, I had to wonder how often other sheep in her flock got hurt, and if Cot was the only one that knew these skills or if it was something the whole flock learned. Mountain Sheep may live on the steepest hills, but accidents do happen, and sometimes nopony will be there to help.
You’re really lucky to be here. A little pony said in my head. I had to nod in agreement. Lucky did not really cover it, though. The mountains were huge and reached for miles and miles. What were the chances of being rescued like I was? How did I not hurt myself even more when I fell? A poorly wing, a few cuts and bruises, and a headache that pounded like a thunderhead splitting in two. I should’ve broken something, I should have frostbite. I should be—
No, no. The little pony cooed. You don’t have to think about that.
Cot trotted back into the cave, stirring me out of my thoughts. She walked up to me with my saddlebags on her back, and carefully slid them down to my hooves.
“This is all we found of your belongings.” Cot said in apology as she opened the flaps. “I stashed your jacket and scarf in here after I first treated you, and in the other satchel there were some bottles, but they were all broken. The labels said they had strong medicine in them, are you an herbalist?”
I shook my head gently, trying to not aggravate the now-dull throb in my head. “I knew somepony, well a Zebra actually. She was named Zecora.” I tapped a hoof on the thick tome still safe in my saddlebags. I was a little relieved to see that even Philomena’s feather was still there peeking out of the pages. “That’s her book.”
Cot looked impressed. “Ooh you better keep that from Molly. She’s got enough questions to ask about Ponies, but she’ll have dozens more about Zebras if you let her know that.”
I did my best to smile. “You won’t hear a peep from me.”
“You’re saving yourself from a lot of questions, young lady,” Cot chuckled. “You have no idea.”
The copy of Supernaturals sat inside one of my saddlebags alongside a few other possessions the sheep had found, making one of the satchels stand tall while the other slumped with emptiness. I hadn’t just lost a few glass bottles, somewhere on the mountainside the remains of my food and first-aid kit had been scattered about, too. In spite of losing those things, the thought of losing Zecora’s book was far scarier. Food and medicine could be replaced, but somepony’s book? It wouldn’t be her book if I replaced it.
I closed my eyes and tipped my head back with a sigh. “Thank you for finding this, I would never forgive myself if I lost the book.” I glanced over to Cot, giving her a smile that I really meant this time. “Thank you for all you did to help me.”
Cot simply curtseyed, and slowly turned for the exit. “I’ll give you a few minutes to get re-eady, and then I’ll be back. The flock is getting impatient, and I’d be happier if you followed us down.”
“Oh, sure! Right, um. I won’t keep you waiting.”
***
Okay, just to make sure I remember this: Headband, check. Canteen, a little dented but check. Book, spare canteen, map, matches, sewing kit… All in my saddlebags so check. No lantern...No food… No medicine or bandages… I hope I’m not forgetting anything.
The empty cave yawned, aloof and uninterested. It was just me in here now; Cot had left after gathering up her belongings and told me to not be too far behind her. I wanted to be quick, but I couldn’t help but think I hadn’t accounted for something. I went over the checklist several times, but each time I felt more pins get stuck in my brain. I couldn’t be sure of myself, and I was taking too long anyway. Wrapping up my scarf and taking a final deep breath of cold air, I decided to forget about what was lost and get going.
Cold air whisked and swirled around my ankles. The icy wind wasted no time in greeting me with its embrace, and took less than a second to find the tears in my sports jacket. I pulled the jacket’s zipper up and pushed the collar around my neck, trying to huddle into the thin, padded garment wrapped around my body.
It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust, but when they did, I saw the rocky formations of the mountainside open up before me. I followed spires of rock up to the sky, and blinked in awe at the vivid blue atmosphere and sparkling orb of sunlight directly overhead. I realised with a glance down to the horizon just how high I was still on the mountains. Miles below lay the warm greens and browns of a gigantic forest, partially hidden by patches of clouds far, far away. It was almost a different world. Down there, no doubt, was a forest teeming with all kinds of creatures – perhaps wondrous and amazing animals never seen in Equestria! Up here though, where the air was thinner and so cold that ice prickled your tongue, snow-capped peaks stretched so high that they looked like they could touch the sky. Yet the sky, in its daunting beauty, simply continued to rise higher and higher out of reach the longer I stared after it.
Okay, I sighed, dropping my gaze to my hooves. That’s enough excitement for now.
The flock wasn’t hard to spot. Apart from a few interested looks from a few mountain sheep, most of the flock – numbering no more than a dozen by my first guess – appeared to be huddled together and focused on something else. A cute, little lamb hopped and skipped around the adults. I glanced around for other lambs like her, but there didn’t seem to be any more around. Was this the only lamb? Was this Molly? She wore a long red scarf that was almost too long for her, but with her fleece blending in with the snow, the scarf made her easy to spot. It was a smart way of keeping track of the little one – good one, Cot. The lamb slid to a halt when she noticed me, and then quickly bounded over to me with a smile on her face.
“Hey! You’re on your hooves!” There was no mistaking her voice, it was Molly, and I didn’t miss the chance to give her the warmest smile I could make. Molly’s fleece was clean and bright – cream in colour against the snow. Like her grandmother, Molly had golden eyes, but hers to carried a potent spark of life inside them; a spark that flashed whenever she blinked, and practically glowed when she looked up to me.
Molly closed the distance between us, hopping up and down around me in excitement. “Ca-an I a-ask you a question? Please, please! I’ve never ever met a Pegasus before! Your wings are awesome! Could you take me for a flight when they get better? Please! Please!”
My mouth opened to speak, but the words stretched and oozed out. I shook my head and looked down at Molly, only to see two of her in front of me in an instant. The ground seemed to sway underneath my hooves, and for a few bemused seconds I did not react until a little voice in my head piped up: Wait! You’re falling over!
My hooves spread out and dug into the stone and ice, slipping about until they found a happy place to be. I froze every muscle and shut my eyes up tight. What was this? I’d never been so dizzy in my life! Was it because of the fall?
Molly brushed up beside me, planting two hooves on me to help keep me steady. “Are you… are you okay? Gra-an!”
Cot appeared beside me, but it wasn’t until she waved a hoof in front of my face that I snapped out of the dizzy spell. Cot looked into my eyes, concern deepening her wrinkles. “Are you feeling all right, duck?”
I stood up straight, took a deep breath, and told her what had happened. Cot raised an eyebrow, but didn’t ask anything more. Instead, she beckoned me to follow her. Molly vanished back among the flock – a rippling red scarf in the wind being the only giveaway of where she was.
Cot and I approached a ram. His fleece was brown with patches of silver throughout. His face was dark and stoney, and as we drew nearer I could see wrinkles on his forehead and fatigue circling around his eyes. His gaze was nowhere near relaxed, and he never took it away from me. Like how Molly’s eyes glowed with life, Alk’s burned with disdain and impatience, and I almost stopped in my tracks and turned back. If his stare wasn’t threatening enough for anypony else, his polished and pointy horns probably were.
Even though I stood a head taller than him, I was really, really scared of meeting him.
The ram looked me up and down as Cot and I came to stop before him. He scowled, narrowing his eyes into a squint of mild annoyance. Was there something he didn’t like about me? Maybe the jacket or the headband, or was my mane and tail too scruffy? I didn’t need a mirror to know I was a mess. I wished I could have made a better impression.
“So, this is the pony in dire need of help?” he grumbled, raising a hoof and pointing at me. I shrunk back and he rolled his eyes. “This is the sa-ame pony that ya said was teetering on the edge, Cot. And now she’s alive and upright the very next day. Cot, if ya were a-anyone else I’d have ignored you when we found her and lead this flock to sa-afety already.”
He’d have left…Me? Before I could open my mouth the ram glared at me, shutting down anything I might have said.
“I’m glad you listened, Alk,” Cot said, stepping between the ram and I. “She did need our help whe-en we found her – don’t forget that. She won’t be a burden on us now. All she needs is to get down to the mountain just like us, and she’ll be on her way. I don’t see the harm in her following us down, do you?”
Alk did not soften his expression at all. He scanned over me once more and pointed a hoof at me angrily. “She’s covered in bandages, she still looks like a burden to me – and I a-ain’t carrying her to another bleedin’ cave, Cot.”
Oh… I um… I could feel my cheeks glowing, so I looked away and tried to cover my face with my straggly mane. I squeaked a tiny ‘sorry’ to Alk, but he groaned in disbelief.
“Oh for… How much of yer concoction did you give to her?” Alk demanded. “She’s beet red!”
Concoction? Red? Oh no.
“Just a smidgen more than usual,” Cot said. “Maybe more than she needed.”
Alk rolled his eyes and cursed. Throwing what must be his pointing hoof out in frustration. “See? Now she’s a burden, Cot. Not only do I have to worry about the rest of the flock tripping over the edge, I now have to worry about this pony because yer’ve ma-ade her a little tipsy!”
What? Wait, what?! What was in that medicine?
“She had a serious headache – maybe even a concussion, Alk!” Cot was now raising her voice, speaking firmly. “She shouldn’t be marching down a mountain in her condition, but you won’t wait any longer. I can’t expect her to walk down the mountain in agony! Besides…” Cot stepped back and fell in beside me, and Molly popped up on my right. “…We’ll be keeping a close eye on her. Don’t you worry.”
Alk was quiet and still. He looked over the three of us, cursed under his breath and turned away. “Ya better keep an eye on her,” he said, “because I a-ain’t babysittin’ her. So ma-ake sure she can walk in a stra-aight line before she embarrasses the pair of you.”
And with that, Alk plodded to the rest of the flock, grumbling to himself before looking up to the rest of the flock. “Okay everyone!” he announced. “We’re finally on the move. You know how we do things: two per row only! The track is narra, and I a-ain’t stopping anymore until nightfall.”
The rest of flock crowded around Alk, and I watched as he barked orders until they all fell into place – with Cot, Molly, and I bringing up the rear. After a quick inspection of everyone in the flock, Alk marched up to the front of the line. For a brief second he flashed a proud smile, until his eyes landed on me. I had tried to hide at the back, but I was a head taller than everyone else, and even hunched down, my mane and coat were still a dead giveaway.
Alk’s expression hardened, and slowly he turned around and took a quick glance at the sun. I did too, and by my guess we had reached midday already. We had a long walk ahead.
“Let me remind ya one last time.” Alk shouted over the breeze. “If ya happen to fall off the edge, get yer hoof stuck in the rocks, or otherwise fall behind. I am not stopping to come get ya – so don’t fall behind.”
Alk marched off, and soon the whole flock followed. I kept my eyes on Alk, wondering if his last comment was aimed more at me than anyone else. I couldn’t say I blamed him after all the bother I had caused him…
Cot stretched up to my ear and whispered, “I know he sounds upset at you, duck, but I think he accepts your apology. Don’t bother him for now, though, he’s still sore from carrying such a big girl.”
By now my cheeks were on fire. Ice was melting off the rocks around me.
Molly piped up, falling in step on my right. “Oh! Gra-an’s not trying to say you’re fa-at. Ponies are just bigger tha-an we are, y’know?”
Try as I might, I couldn’t disappear before I turned any redder. Molly was the first to notice, and she stepped away like I was contagious.
“Gra-an,” Molly said, flicking her eyes from me to her grandmother. “Fluttershy doesn’t look so good. Does she ha-ave a fever? Maybe she needs more medicine–“
“O-oh no, that won’t be necessary!” I stammered. “I’m fine, really! I’m just fine!”
“Gra-an?”
Cot looked like she was holding back laughter. “Fluttershy’s fine, Molly, it’s just the me-edicine.”
Molly cocked her head to the side, but didn’t press any further. Before she could leap into another topic, Cot reminded her granddaughter about Alk’s rules, and told the lamb to move up and walk in front of us where she could be seen – and had no choice but to keep her eyes away from me if she didn’t want to get into trouble.
The end of the line fell into a quiet rhythm of hoof-falls and light skids on the ice. It was the kind of silence among company that I hadn’t realised I missed so much. Spending so long on my own with just my own hooves echoing around me, or my own wings gently beating the breeze, had become normal. When had it become normal?
My head throbbed and warned me to stop thinking. I wanted to think! I had so much to get my head around. I had a route to plan, a plan to make, and so many questions that needed answering. Who knew when I would next get a chance to speak to someone? Who knew if I would get a chance?
The throbbing became more frequent, but almost as quickly as it flared up it was softened by Cot’s medicine, taking out the edge out of the sharp cracks across my forehead by laying a sponge there. Not long after, all of my worries and questions were sucked up, and in my empty bliss I gave up finding a way to wring the sponge out.
There was one thing left that I wanted answered. I leant over to Cot, steadying myself when I tripped over my hooves, and whispered so that Molly wouldn’t hear. “Um… What was in that bottle?”
“A family recipe made with the finest ingredients found on this side of the mountains!” Cot said at first, but after checking that nobody was listening, she leant in and added, “And maybe some rum to give the mix a little boost.”
Somewhere under the haze and dull throbs, I could hear a voice giggling at the thought of a tipsy pony climbing down a mountain. Reality was, thankfully, a sobering thing to think about. I didn’t want to try falling down a mountain again.
“Where did you get that from?” I asked as I checked if my cheeks were really on fire or not.
“Sometimes ponies come over on a hike, I asked them to bring some the next time they came over, makes a good me-edicine ingredient, doesn’t it?” Cot grinned.
My mind felt like it sloshed to the opposite side of my head when I straightened up. At least I didn’t take a bigger dose – walking would have been a harder task it I had.
***
The clear weather was a far cry from the weather I faced climbing up the Whinny-Rose Mountains While I followed close behind the flock of sheep as they made their trek down, I allowed myself to gaze out across the grand landscape of forests and hills and distant mountain peaks. Even though Equestria was only hours behind me, separated by an ice-capped wall of stone, The Fang was truly a different sight from the place I called home.
Just like the map said, the Whinny-Rose Mountains stood alongside the edge of a thick forest, and far into the East were red, volcanic mountains known to be a favourite spot among dragons. A long, hard look into the distance revealed several stacks of white smoke, and bobbing and weaving between them were at least two dozen shimmering specks. The distance took away any gut reaction I would have had, but even then I chewed on my lip when I thought that I would soon be too close to them for comfort.
It was no good worrying about it now. The dragons were still miles and miles away, and the view that they were a part of was enthralling – maybe even exciting. Nopony lived in The Fang (I tried to ignore that the reason why was shimmering in the horizon), and so very little was known about all the creatures that did live there. Spike had visited during the last dragon migration – with Rarity, Twilight, and Rainbow not far behind. The only dangerous creatures they said they saw were… Dragons.
Let’s think about Phoenixes! A little pony in my head chimed in. Beautiful, wild Phoenixes! Spike even came home with an egg!
That was true. The egg also hatched and little Peewee was born. Spike couldn’t keep the baby Phoenix though, the bird deserved to be with his parents in the wild. I remembered talking to Spike about this. He surprised everypony when he packed up and set off to return Peewee. Spike is always full of surprises. I think we all forget sometimes that he is still technically a baby in dragon years.
A genuine smile crept up on me and I welcomed it with all my heart. All the way up here, and all the way outside of Equestria, I found a happy place. No empty streets, no sad reminders, just happy thoughts and a wonderful view. My spirit climbed out from its hiding place, and with it came some quiet assurance that things were going to be okay, and that I didn’t have to feel so bad all the time. I held onto this moment and cherished it. As soon as I plant my hooves on soil instead of stone, I may never again have a moment like this.
With a long sigh, I continued to gaze out into the panorama. To the north, the Whinny-Rose Mountains arced around the forest slightly before shrinking down enough to see the ocean miles and miles away, glimmering through the gaps in the cloud cover. The South also looked open and vast, with the Whinny-Rose Mountains reaching further than I could see with the forest running alongside it. Meanwhile, in the East, barely in front of the horizon, dull red mountains marked the home of the dragons – and my goal. The two mountain ranges never seemed to meet, leaving a large strip of green to grow between them. With two very imposing walls sandwiching it, and ocean to the North and the unknown further South, I had to wonder what creatures live in the forests that nopony knew about. What laid in wait in the forest completely cut off from ponykind?
With the map in my saddlebags no good outside of Equestria, I took the time to imagine a map in my mind, and tried to memorise as many landmarks as I could. Thinking about it, the two mountain ranges did in fact resemble a pair of fangs, but the territory was only named after one. I took one last look into the East, and felt that I found the reason why.
I looked ahead of the flock. Our two-by-two caravan had been walking for a couple of hours now, but other than a little idle chatter with Cot or a few minutes of prodding from Molly (which always ended in Cot sending her away because I was still unwell), I hadn’t really said much to anyone. The first few pairs of sheep ahead of me spoke quietly, occasionally slipping into their dialect of bleats and baas if not always talking that way. If that was the native language of the sheep, how could Alk, Cot and even Molly talk to me so easily?
My eyes drifted up to the sky, getting lost in the endless blue. Cot had told me that she knew some ponies, and she knew them enough for them to bring her things she asked for. Alk was the leader of the flock, it was likely that he’d met more than a few ponies, but I doubted that he was ever friendly towards them. That just left Molly. She was young, probably about the age that a pony would be looking for their Cutie Mark. Maybe Cot taught her? Maybe they spoke to ponies together? That would explain the red scarf the lamb is never seen without. Both grandmother and granddaughter probably spend a lot of time together. Did Molly’s parents live in this flock? Nobody said anything like that. Maybe flocks travelled all around, and the two hadn’t bumped into eachother yet.
Cot had told me at the start of our journey that the flock normally stays up at higher elevations during the summer, but the bitter cold and snowstorms had finally forced Alk to admit that the flock needed to go down the mountains to escape the cold. She asked me if the weather in Equestria had gone crazy all over, but I could really only speak for Ponyville and Canterlot. I told her that Cloudsdale’s weather factory had dumped the upcoming winter weather out accidentally, and that Fillydelphia’s factory probably did the same for the wintry storms to be spilling out of Equestria’s borders. When asked why something like that would happen in two different cities, I bit my tongue and shook my head. Cot didn’t believe me at all, but she didn’t say anything more.
Meanwhile, the flock marched close behind Alk as he led the way down the mountains, sometimes two-by-two when the path was wide enough. Though some of the mountain sheep stole glances at me with a mix of smiles and bemusement, no one else spoke to me. Well, one other sheep did.
“Hey, Fluttershy! Watch this!” Molly caught my attention. The lamb had climbed to the top of an icy slope and was waving to me. Before I could do or say anything, she hopped off the edge and skated down the side. She came to an expert stop beside me and her scarf dramatically swung around her neck tidily as if part of the act. She looked up at me expectantly, her smile confident and full of energy.
“That was amazing!” I said, stopping to clap my hooves. “How often do you practice?”
“Whenever I ca-an!” Molly beamed. “Every year some ponies come over from the other side with these weird pla-anks that they slide around on. I learnt to do what they did – but on ice instead. Alk won’t let me ha-ave any pla-anks of my own for the snow. Can you believe how mean he is?”
I looked to the front of the line, where Alk was busy leading the flock down the path. “Well, he’s just trying to be careful.”
“So you shouldn’t call him ‘mean’, Molly.” Cot added, walking up to us. Cot looked at us once and smiled, and then turned back towards the flock. “Come along, now, we’re falling behind.”
I was the last to fall back into step. Molly skipped off to walk beside Cot, leaving me to will my hooves to move a little faster against their own sluggish weight. The ‘medicine’ Cot had given hadn’t quite worn off yet.
I hope I won’t be asked to take some more later.
***
By late afternoon, the ice had started to wane and be replaced with moss and brave weeds. We had only stopped once for a rest, and Alk’s explanation for that was to make up for lost time, and my legs were started to feel like they had bricks tied onto them. Cot also looked tired, but she pressed on without complaint so I didn’t say anything either.
The only one in the flock that had only lost a fraction of her sparkle was Molly. The young lamb had stopped running around hours ago, and had settled into playing ‘I spy’ with Cot and I, or singing songs I had never heard before. I glanced down at her, and was met with that curious gaze of hers that I’d been getting to know for little while now. I could almost feel the weight of her stare on my face, but I didn’t speak in fear of unleashing the swarm of questions I could hear buzzing inside her head. The thought of talking about where I lived, or who I knew, stung in ways it never should have. I was so happy with the life I had, but now, it hurt to think about. I did not want to share that with someone as wise as Cot, let alone someone as carefree as Molly.
Molly took a breath. This was it. I could hear the questions coming, and my body responded by bracing like it was expecting a hard landing in a dense forest. What if she asked about Equestria, or about my friends and family? How I got here? Where I’m going and why? What if she asked flying questions like the airspeed velocity of an unladen Pegasus?! Oh, the formulas were always the hardest in Flight Camp!
“So what’s it like having wings?”
“Twenty-three and a half miles per hour!” I blurted out. My bandaged leg clamped my jaw shut, and I trotted ahead of the confused sheep flanking me. They quickened their pace and caught up, and Cot cleared her throat.
“Now, Molly, it’s been a long day for e-everyone, and Fluttershy wasn’t very we-ell at the start of it. Maybe tomorrow she’ll be okay with your questions.” Cot looked over to me. “How are you feeling right now, duck?”
I could tell by the shape of Cot’s eyes that she wasn’t asking for an honest answer. I hesitated, looking down at my forelegs marching mindlessly forward, and then over to Molly, who looked like her happiness depended on what I said next. Oh, how could I let her down like that?
“I’m just a little tired,” I said, turning back to face Cot. “It’s been a long day and I really need to put my hooves up. Maybe after we stop, Molly can ask about things she wants to know.
Cot’s eyebrow rose up. “Are you sure? You might want to get some sleep. Does your head hurt? A couple of doses of my me-edicine will have you sleeping soun–“
“Oh, n-no! My head’s fine! Never felt clearer, actually!” I lied as I shut out the throbbing coming from the back of my head. “Besides, I don’t think Molly will sleep very well if she doesn’t get to talk to me first.”
“Uh-huh! Yeah!” Molly skipped and hopped beside me, bubbling over with excitement.
Cot let out a long sigh and rolled her eyes. “All right then, Fluttershy, if you’re sure. We won’t be thinking of stopping until before dusk – that means you still have to wait, Molly!”
“Aww…” Molly fell down mid-hop and fell back into step. A few minutes later, she started up another game of ‘I spy’.
Molly could barely wait until the flock had settled into a nook away from the wind. She was bouncing and hurrying me along to a spot she reserved up against the stone wall, and no sooner had I dropped my saddlebags and slumped on the floor did she start with her first question – and in a way that I found funny, she didn’t stop for an answer.
“So what’s it like having wings? I bet it’s a-amazing. You ca-an go wherever you want a-and fly in the clouds – are clouds really as soft as my fleece? No wait, I’ve walked through clouds, but why does everyone else call it fog? Why call a cloud fog when you can just call it a cloud? I don’t get it, do you get it?”
Cot tried to break up the stream of questions. “Moll–“
“How fast can you fly? I’ve seen really small, quick birds that zip around in trees and really big, slow birds that glide over the mountains. Are you a quick bird or a slow bird?”
“Molly, Fluttershy’s not a bir–“
“Ooh! Do you live in a big cloud city full of Pegasuses like you? Some of the ponies I’ve talked to said the Pegasuses make buildings out of clouds and live in them.
“Cloudsdale…” The name escaped my lips before I could react. In a split second I wasn’t sitting among the flock of mountain sheep, away from the cold wind and light snow. The rocks masked in darkness twisted into broken wreckage. Stones and weeds that poked out of the snow became the possessions of missing ponies blowing in the breeze, and the huddling sheep I peered over created the fallen cloud I took shelter in, the small space I had made for myself to survive the elements and see the night through. It was a sight I didn’t want to see ever again, but that only made it more permanent in my mind: Cloudsdale in complete ruin after it fell out of the sky. The homes of thousands destroyed, and an entire winter released in a howling blizzard that carried Cloudsdale’s last scream.
“Fluttershy? A-are you okay?” Molly’s uncertainty pierced my mind, making me frighteningly aware that I was falling apart in front of the lamb. My mouth drooped open, but I couldn’t find any words to speak.
“Molly, you’ve swamped the poor girl with questions,” Cot scolded. “Give her a chance to answer a question before you ask more.”
“Oh… Sorry, Fluttershy.”
“I-It’s fine! “ I croaked.
Take a deep breath, a little pony whispered. Keep calm – you don’t want to worry anyone, do you?
I did what the voice in my head said. I took two slow breaths and counted to ten, and turned my attention back to Molly. I nodded to her. “I’m sorry, my head got, um, dizzy.”
Cot turned to her medicine satchel. “I have just the thing for that!”
I lifted a hoof in protest. “Oh, no, I’ll be okay! I’m sure it won’t happen again.”
Cot narrowed her eyes, waggling a hoof at me. “Duck, I wasn’t born last spring. If you don’t ta-ake something you’ll be up all night in pain.”
She was right. Unconsciously my hoof drifted behind my head and felt the throbbing lump on the back of my skull. It was like a button had been pressed, because every single bruise, cut, sprain, and ache shot up to the front of my thoughts. I winced, and when I opened my eyes I was looking at Molly, who was growing more and more afraid that her questions were not going to be answered.
“Okay. I’ll take the medicine,” I said. “But I don’t want to take it before Molly can ask me her questions again.”
Cot shrugged and brought out her medicine bottle, setting it aside in wait. “Fa-air enough, Fluttershy. Molly, you have five minutes; Fluttershy really needs to rest.”
Molly didn’t waste a second acknowledging this. Her face lit up and her first question practically came out in a single word. “What’s it like ha-aving wings?!”
The gears in my brain started turning, hoping to keep up with the pace of this conversation. “Well… Having wings is like having an extra pair of legs, I guess, except they’re, um, on my back.”
Molly cocked her head sideways, her mouth making a perfect ‘o’ shape.
“W-what I mean is that they’re normal to me, I move them around sometimes without thinking. Flying is almost as easy as walking. Almost.”
“Oh, I get it,” Molly nodded. She sat there for a moment to think about it, but then snapped out of it and moved to her next question. “Ooh-ooh! Is it true that Pegasuses can control the weather? Ca-an you stop storms and make it nice every day?”
I smiled and nodded slowly. “Yes, Pegasi can control the weather, but most don’t because they’re not as good at it as others. The best weatherponies change the weather every day so that all the other ponies get the weather they need. Not every pony needs sunny days though, some ponies want rainy days, windy days, even snowy days.”
Molly stuck her tongue out and shivered. “Ew! Who could like getting wet and cold that much?”
“We live on a mountain, duck,” Cot said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Let Fluttershy speak. It’s rude to interrupt.”
Molly looked over to me and kept quiet, so I carried on. “Oh nopony really goes out in wet weather unless they have to. The rain is to make sure all the trees and flowers stay happy and the rivers and lakes don’t dry out. Some ponies also need rain to water their crops.”
The lamb looked even more confused. “Crops? What are those?”
I blinked. “Crops are what farmers grow. They all grow in the ground and ponies can eat them. There are a lot of things ponies eat: Carrots, celery, apples…”
“Farmers? That’s a funny word. Are they a special kind of pony?”
I paused, taking a moment to examine Molly’s attempt at understanding what I was saying. How does she not know what farming is? How do mountain sheep get their food? I was sure I already knew why but I just couldn’t put my hoof on it. I tapped my chin a few times, and then tapped my forehead to try to knock the answer out of the mist. Oh wait. This flock wouldn’t farm their food; they would look for plants in the wild and eat them! How could I not realise this?
“Farmers are like weather ponies,” I started, taking a moment to organise my thoughts. “They are very good at their job. Farmers grow food so that nopony goes hungry. There are so many ponies in Equestria that there isn’t enough food to be found to feed them all. So farmers raise crops so that there is enough food to go around. It is a very important job.”
Or at least it was, deadpanned a voice in my head. There’s not really anypony in Equestria to feed, now.
I shook my head, losing the voice in the fog of my thoughts. This wasn’t a good time. It was never a good time.
“A job? Oh, like how it is Alk’s job to lead the flock? What is your job?”
A lump in my throat appeared, and in a panic I mentally fumbled around for an answer that didn’t make me think of my home or the memories I had there. I knew I would far apart if I let myself think about it, but then everyone would want to know why, and I… I couldn’t tell them that! I couldn’t make them feel the same that I felt! What kind of monster would do that?
“W-well, I’m not a weatherpony or a farmer,“ I stammered. “I… I um…”
Think! Look around! Make something up!
My eyes fell on my saddlebags, and I instantly thought about Zecora’s copy of Supernaturals.
“I’m an… assistant. Yes, that’s it. I help my friend Zecora with her potions. She sent me on this trip to look for herbs and flowers that are hard to find in Equestria. She lent me her book so that I could identify what I find in The Fang.”
“Ooh! What’s Zecora like? I bet she’s really smart!”
Cot shot a warning glare at me.
“She’s a good friend, though I don’t think I really deserve her friendship.”
Molly tilted her to the side. “Why not?”
I sighed, hiding the fact that my thoughts were in uproar over the half-truths I was saying. “We… We don’t really spend much time together. I should have visited her more before this, but I never thought about it until now I guess.”
Molly looked down, thinking carefully about what I had said. When the silence grew longer, I started running through what I said for anything she could’ve noticed – anything that could prove that I was lying to the young lamb. Molly spoke up, giving me a warm smile. “I’m sure she forgives you, you know?”
“Wh-what? Why?”
“Not everyone sees their friends every day, sometimes not for months a-at a time. It doesn’t mean they’re not friends anymore, it just means tha-at they’re doing their own thing. I’m sure Zecora knows tha-at. It’s like the ponies who climb the mountains: they’re our friends, even though we don’t see them very often.”
I felt profound warmth reach into my chest and fill my heart. I smiled, blinking whenever my vision streaked. Molly was right. Friendship wasn’t measured by how often ponies saw each other, it was by how much they cared about one another. I loved all my friends, ponies or not, and I was thankful that the friendships I had didn’t end because of distance or time. But could a friendship really count if they were…? If my friends were not…?
Please, a little pony breathed, you don’t have to go there. Stay where you are instead. Think about what makes you happy.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I looked back at Molly. “Thank you for telling me that. You’re very clever, Molly.”
“Pssh.” The lamb blushed. “I only know wha-at I know.”
“Is there anything else you’d like ask about?”
Molly tapped her chin and glanced at Cot, who had been quietly listening the whole time. I looked over to her as well, and could almost hear her counting down until Molly’s bedtime. The lamb must’ve have heard it too.
“Tell me about Equestria, Fluttershy.” Molly said. “What’s it really like on the other side?”
For a few moments I only stared at Molly. I couldn’t talk to her about Equestria, could I? What could I tell her? The truth? A lie? I glanced over to Cot, who looked back at me with the same expression of curiosity as her grandchild. A little further away, I noticed, was Alk. He too looked at me expectantly, not reacting to being caught eavesdropping over the chatter of all the other sheep in the flock.
I was trapped.
I looked back to Molly, and took a shallow breath.
“I’ve never been all over Equestria,” I sighed. “But wherever I go, it is always different from the last place I visited. There are cities high in the sky – either on mountains or floating with the clouds. There are cities down by the sea, and countless little villages in between. Equestria has a beautiful landscape. Forests, hills, rivers, and lakes; there are truly magical places all over, and some of them you will not believe unless you saw it for yourself. I grew up in Cloudsdale – a floating city built by Pegasus ponies. It’s open and bright, and always on the move. It’s not surprising that the ponies that live there are the same, too. It had one of dozens of weather factories throughout Equestria, and so it was very, very busy. When I was old enough, I moved to an Earth pony town called Ponyville, and made a home in a lovely little cottage outside of the town.
“Ever since I got my Cutie Mark, I have always wanted to be close to nature and wildlife. My cottage is near a scary forest nopony goes into, but it’s also close to nicer woods and meadows, where the animals there are friendly and sweet.”
Molly raised her hoof, pulling me from my thoughts. “Did you adopt one? Like a pet?”
I smiled, recalling my cottage bustling with all the animals and creatures I welcomed into my home. And then the smile was gone, torn away by the sight of the empty, cold shell my home became.
Not now. Happy thoughts.
“I have a little bunny. His name is Angel.”
“Angel? That’s a funny name.”
“I named him Angel because he was there for me from the first day I set hoof on the ground. He’s really loyal, and clever.” I looked up, staring at the rocky overhang the whole flock was taking shelter underneath. “If I ever was alone, or sad, or scared, and I couldn’t bring myself to talk to somepony about it. Angel was there.”
“Like a guardian angel.” Cot said with a warm smile on her face.
“Right... That’s right.” My head drooped down to my forelegs, watching my hoof idly brush over the bandages on my leg. “I miss him so much.”
“Aw don’t be sad. You’ll see him when you go home, won’t you?” Molly’s voice was fraught with concern. She got up and moved to my side. “I bet he misses you, too. I bet all your friends miss you.”
She was doing her best to cheer me up. In practice, though, she was pouring salt into a wound I just couldn’t get to close. It wasn’t her fault – how could she have possibly known? I hadn’t told anyone the truth of what was on the other side. I’d only said what they had wanted to hear.
No, you only said what you wanted to hear. A little pony corrected. I shook my head until the pony slipped into the darkness, and looked to Molly for any more questions, but it seemed that the lamb had ran out of things to ask. Our corner of the crevice fell silent, letting the ambience of other conversations nibble into our space alongside the whistle of the icy wind blowing outside our shelter. Molly’s questions had stopped, but I could feel her curious stare burning into my cheek. I glanced over to her and forced a smile, trying to convince her that I would be okay. In the corner of my eye, I saw Alk turn away and disappear among his flock.
Cot stirred and stretched, cracking almost every joint she had. “Okay, Molly,” she yawned, “time for be-ed.”
The lamb tried to protest, but her grandmother stood firm. Molly’s begging didn’t last long, and reluctantly, she turned to me and said goodnight, and then picked a spot nearby to curl up and sleep. Some members of the flock, seemingly acting on instinct, moved and settled down around the lamb to keep her warm.
It also made it easier for Cot to whisper to me without being heard.
“Te-ell you the truth, duck, I thought you were done for when she asked about Zecora.”
“S-sorry about that. I know you warned me and—“
“It’s all right, Fluttershy.” Cot chuckled. “I was just making sure Molly would ge-et some sleep tonight.”
I smiled with Cot and looked over to Molly, who already looked like she was asleep.
“She can be a nuisance at the be-est of times, that one.” Cot said.
“Oh, it’s not like that.”
Cot snorted and grinned, the wrinkles on her face hinting that she know something I didn’t. “Young’uns are always the cutest whe-en they’re not yours.”
I tilted my head to the side, trying to find what she meant in her expression. A tiny shadow of sadness crept over Cot, but in a blink it was gone, replaced by a warm smile directed to the sleeping lamb.
Cot cleared her throat, speaking in a quiet murmur. “Thank you for keeping your word with her, Fluttershy.”
I nodded slowly, not breaking eye-contact. “You’re welcome, Cot.”
The elderly ewe looked back over to Molly once more and took a deep breath. She spoke again, but this time in a clearer, authoritative voice. “Well, I think it’s time you took your me-edicine and got some sleep, too.”
The throbbing in my skull doubled its strength in preparation. For the first time since I last took it, I actually wanted to take more. At least I’d sleep off the side effects before the morning, right? I hoped so.
A few minutes later, I settled down to sleep, laying my head down on my saddlebags. It was stiffer than I would’ve liked, but the only alternative was using a rock as a pillow. I shifted and fidgeted, wincing whenever I poked a bruise or carelessly rolled onto my left wing, and eventually found a position that hurt the least.
Sleep didn’t come immediately. Instead, thoughts about the last twenty-four hours flicked through my mind. I took a stupid risk crossing the mountains during a blizzard, I was lucky to still… to still be here, wasn’t I? Why didn’t I think about what could happen? Or did I…? Maybe, without really thinking about it, I went up the Whinny-Rose Mountains hoping that the worst would happen.
I pulled my legs in tight and did my best to hug myself. Through a thin haze of dizziness, I could just about separate myself from what I did. I could almost pretend it wasn’t me that did something like that.
But this wasn’t another pony. It wasn’t like ‘New Fluttershy’ had taken over, or I had let something like The Stare get the better of me. No, a part of me that I trusted had pushed me to that edge. It pushed me into a horrible, freezing blizzard and gave me two choices. Either I disappear in a mask of white like everypony else, or I come out on the other side and see The Fang.
For the first time since everypony vanished, I was afraid of myself. I was so scared of what I could do if I didn’t control my feelings. Could something like that happen again? Would I be able to see it before it happened? Could I stop myself next time? I shivered just thinking about it.
Something fuzzy and warm draped over me and covered me up to my neck. I flinched and sat up, quickly realising that I was under the same woolly blanket that I woke up in. I looked up, and saw Cot.
“I saw you shivering, duck, this should help.”
I gave her a blank stare. A side of me wondered what Cot would’ve done if she found me and I never woke up – or if Molly found me…
I felt sick.
Cot leant forward and pressed a foreleg against my head. Her brow furrowed, and she lowered her hoof to my shoulder and held me steady. “How are you feeling, duck?”
My head was spinning, I wasn’t even here anymore. I was on top of the highest peak of the mountains. I was looking down – straight down to a flat, stone floor. The wind was pushing me, gravity was inching me closer to the edge – even my thoughts were against me.
You won’t feel a thing.
Cot shook me and I was back by her side. I was safe. I was alive.
I was alive.
Alive.
Alive.
Most of the night was spent sobbing into Cot’s fleece, hoping and praying that I didn’t wake anyone else up. I was so ashamed of myself. I… I was so close to losing my life, and I didn’t even know that was all that a part of me wanted.
***
“Wa-ake up.”
Nudge. Nudge. I groggily opened my eyes and looked up, expecting to see Molly or Cot prodding me. Instead it was Alk, still looking as irritated as the first time we met.
His face didn’t soften when he saw that I was awake, he seemed to scowl more in fact. “Good,” he said, and then slowly turned away. I sat up a little, watching him walk out from the alcove the whole flock was huddled in, still fast asleep. The ram stopped a short distance away from the group, standing still near the rocky edge of the path we had been following.
The little pony in my head yawned and bucked, kicking my brain into gear. Alk had woken me before anyone else, said nothing more than ‘good’, and was now stood motionless outside. He wanted to talk to me, but he wanted me to go to him. Why?
Probably shouldn’t lay there and ask why, just follow along. A little pony mumbled, herself sounding like she had just woken up.
With a yawn and stretch, I slipped out from underneath Molly’s sleeping hug and stood up. She hadn’t fallen asleep beside me last night when I was awake, but after I broke down last night… Maybe she heard that. Oh, I wish she hadn’t seen that. I wish nopony saw that.
With teensy, tiny steps I weaved among the sleeping sheep and walked up to Alk. He didn’t turn to see me, just continued to stare down the mountain range. I stopped beside him, choosing to say nothing and look over the Fang at the break of dawn.
It was… very beautiful.
“What happened on the other side of this ra-ange?” Alk said, without breaking his miles-long stare.
I glanced over to the ram. “Uhm… There was a horrible storm. I-I was stupid and tried to cross over in the middle of it and… um… I didn’t mean to be a burden on you.”
“No, not that,” Alk shook his head sluggishly. “Not the night before.”
I did not like the way my stomach was twisting in knots. “Then what do you mean?”
“About… hmm… twenty-seven nights ago, there was a gigantic flash in the sky unlike anything I had ever seen. Blinding and loud, and it came down to earth and washed all over the land. I thought it was the…” Alk paused, taking a moment to dismiss himself with a sour laugh. “No matter, do you… know what I am talking about?”
I dropped my gaze to the floor. I bit my lip and blinked back the tears, seeing flashes of that horrible night behind my eyelids.
Alk took a long drag of the morning air. “Three nights ago, I led the flock to the peaks.” He confessed, though I did not understand what was so bad about that. “It was already getting colder, too cold for the flock to be so high up, and we as a flock have sta-ayed away from the peaks since… years ago, but something was bugging me.”
He stopped. I waited a few moments before I spoke up and asked him what was bugging him. He turned and glared at me with the same stony expression he gave me when he woke me up. “I just had to look and see what it looked like over there. And just as I thought, I saw nothing.”
That wasn’t what I was expecting him to say. “You saw nothing?”
Alk nodded, “Nothing that looked like a sign that your kind was there anymore. The village at the bottom of the mountains was still, no smoke from the chimneys, no candles at night, nothing.”
I fell away from Alk’s gaze again. I knew which village he was talking about, and I knew what I saw down there.
“You a-ain’t a researcher,” Alk hissed. He shot a look over to the flock to make sure none of them were awake. “I don’t know what you are, but you didn’t fall out of the worst blizzard I’d ever seen for a few flowers.”
“W-when did you hear that?” I stammered. I hadn’t spoken to him since the first time we met, how did he know what I said to Cot and Molly at the back of the flock?
Alk rolled his eyes slowly. “The flock does talk amongst themselves, you know. Messages move back and forth.”
I brought my head down low, but kept an eye on Alk so he wouldn’t think I was ignoring him. I guess most of the flock did understand me: they just didn’t want to talk…
“There a-ain’t much I understand; least of all how we found you.” Alk pointed a cloven hoof at me accusingly. “We don’t go up the peaks, not even to see what it looks like on the other side. But the first time I decide to go up there a-anyway in years, you fall not far from where we stopped for the night.”
“I’m sorr–“
“No!” Alk growled. “You just don’t get it, do you? How far do you think these mountains stretch? How much time do you think you would’ve survived, unconscious, up at the peaks? Why, after years of avoiding them, did I decide to go up there? Do you know? Because I sure as ‘cicles don’t.”
I shrank away from Alk’s cold, unnerving gaze. He lowered his hoof and took another drag of air, speaking in a much more subdued tone.
“When the others wa-ake up, we’re going to go down the last leg of the journey, but we are not leading you beyond the tree line of the forest – you will go on your own wa-ay by then. You will not ta-ake anyone with you, and you will not put this flock in da-anger. Understand?”
Alk must’ve seen my weak nod, because he straightened up and made his way back to the flock. But there was one thing I wanted to ask, and I didn’t think I would have a chance after this.
“Alk,” I whispered. Amazingly, the ram stopped and turned to face me, scowling. “Why haven’t you been to the peaks in so long?”
Before Alk could reply, we both heard a terrifying roar. I tore my eyes up to the sky, and high up in the air, crossing the rocky border between Equestria and The Fang, was a large, green dragon. We both stood still, not daring to make a peep until the beast glided far, far away – bound for Kinsmeer, my secret, true destination.
I looked back to Alk, and saw that the dragon’s roar had woken the rest of the flock. Alk looked behind him, and then back to me.
“Those things…” Alk said, nodding once toward the distant dragon before pointing a hoof behind him. “…And Molly.”
***
“Fluttershy? Hellooo?”
“Huh, what?” Someone had nudged my shoulder, and I looked over and then down, meeting Molly’s quizzical stare.
“We’re almost near the bottom of the mountains,” the lamb said gently, nodding her head towards the front of the flock. “So tha-at means you’ll… you’ll be on your way. Without us.”
“Oh…” Was all I managed, and for a moment I was lost again, captivated by the tall evergreen trees and the lively sounds of nature not far below. I had no idea what I was expecting to see when I came down from the peaks, but I had not imagined something as beautiful as this.
Molly followed my gaze, and eventually brought me out from the spell I was under. “We don’t normally come this far down,” she said. “It makes me a little sad sometimes.”
“Why is that?” I asked.
“I like seeing the trees up close,” Molly sighed. “From the mountains they look tiny, but they are really, really tall when you see them up close. Alk won’t let me go into the forest though; he says it’s too dangerous.”
Cot was looking at me when I glanced up to her, practically expecting the uncertain look I had on my face. On cue, she elaborated. “I’m not sure what you face in Equestria, but we have wolves.”
The blood drained from my face. Wolves: packs of wild wolves in a forest untouched by ponykind for thousands of years - if touched at all. I had doubts they’d be like the friendly, cuddly wolf-dogs ponies looked after.
Cot closed her eyes, letting out a sigh. “They usually stay deeper in the forest. But if they’re hungry, or if we’re in wrong place, they will hunt near the edge of the forest for an easy meal.”
My left wing resisted against its bindings, throbbing slightly under the strain. I had to go through that forest – through the heart of potential hunting grounds, and I had no other option but to run if I saw something and hope it wouldn’t give chase.
“I-is there anything else in the forest?”
Cot pursed her lips and rolled her eyes up. “Well, the-ere must be something else the wolves hunt – because we sheep stay up the mountains most of the year – boars, deer, and forest critters maybe?”
How did Spike make it to Kinsmeer himself? How did Twilight, Rarity, and Rainbow follow him if it was so dangerous? I didn’t stand a chance. I was nowhere near as brave as my friends.
My friends’ journey reminded me of something they told when they came back: the forest had Phoenixes, too. I knew that, and maybe Cot knew that? I had to change the subject. I asked her and both Cot and Molly’s faces lit up – though Cot was more surprised at the mention than Molly’s look of glee.
“Ooh! They’re so pretty! And so rare – I’ve only seen two in my life!” Molly hopped up and down between Cot and I. A smile crept up on my face, happy to have gone to a much lighter topic. Cot still looked a little surprised, but she too, was smiling.
“They are quite a rare sight this side of the forest,” Cot said, pointing in the direction of the reddish mountains. “But at night you can sometimes see little flying fireballs dancing among the trees over there. It’s rare for them to fly around here, probably because it’s too cold for them.”
I thought of Philomena, and how she braved flying North to the Crystal Empire before the… that night. When I last saw her, we were not far from Canterlot. She warned me about a storm and took off to find her own shelter. I hoped she was safe.
“They’re so majestic,” I said dreamily, thinking of Philomena’s bright red plumage and the way she shone in the sky. “Watching them fly is wonderful.”
Cot nodded in agreement, looking over the forest. “This place is very magical and mysterious, and it isn’t just because of the Phoenixes. There is so much in there that I can’t explain.”
“And that’s why when I grow up, I’m gonna be a-an explorer! Just like you, Fluttershy!” Molly announced.
My heart leapt up in my throat, but nobody noticed. Cot shook her head at the lamb and quietly reminded her that she was forbidden from going into the forest. Molly didn’t bother to argue and instead lowered her head in disappointment and fell silent. I thought about dropping the topic as well so Molly wouldn’t get any ideas, but I was curious about what Cot had said.
“What else lives in the forest? Is there another rare or magical creature there, too?”
Cot hesitated, glancing down at the sulking lamb between us. “I don’t really know, Fluttershy. Sometimes at night, when the moon is hidden, the flock hears things. It sounds like thunder, but it comes out of the forest.”
Molly’s ears were trained on her grandmother, even though she was pretending to be sulking and not listening.
Cot carried on, unaware of the eavesdropping, perhaps unaware of the present too as she stared off into the distance. “When I was a lamb, we heard it close to whe-ere the flock was sleeping, and when we came out of hiding the next morning, there was a long path of tall trees with the-eir tops broken off, and giant hoofsteps carved into the forest floor. Like a giant had passed through, but we have never seen what it actually is.”
I gulped. “Could it be a dr-dragon?”
Cot thought about it, frowning as she went over what she knew. She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. The shapes of the ste-eps were clearly hooves like ours, or something like ours.”
“Yeah,” Molly agreed before running off to a row of boulders. She clambered onto one, and start hopping from one to another. “Besides, have you seen a dra-agon? I bet they’d tear the forest apart if they went through it.”
My hooves slowed to a stop, and Cot and Molly both stopped ahead of me as the rest of flock carried on down the path. This was unreal. This was crazy. Here I was walking straight into a dangerous forest so I can go to an even more dangerous mountain range. There were going to be all kinds of predators, there were going to be lots of dragons, and there was a chance I was going to run into a mysterious giant with cloven hooves – and I didn’t believe for second it would be a big, friendly sheep. This was all too much. I felt I was going crack and shatter right where I stood, and I hadn’t even got off the Whinny-Rose Mountains yet.
There was no other choice. I had to remind myself of that. I was going on this journey to help reunite the Elements of Harmony. I could not turn back and stop now. I made a promise.
Dragging in the morning air, I gazed out over vast hectares of the forest, kidding to myself for a moment that I would see the mystery giant in broad daylight. We were so close to the trees now, which made the scale of the woodland all the more frightening. I couldn’t fly over it. I couldn’t go around it. If I was going to have a chance of catching up with my Element of Harmony, I was going to have to go through the forest.
With my perspective lower, I could see that the forest sat atop small hills that rippled between the Whinny-Rose Mountains and the Dragons’ own volcanic range. Evergreen trees were not the only things that made up the forest, as I could clearly see different deciduous trees growing among the evergreens in the treeline, and thick bushes and bramble cluttering the forest floor. The deep, dark green canopy was also interrupted by brown and amber patches, meaning that some deciduous trees were losing their leaves for winter. But why were only a few losing their leaves and others still lush and green? Why were some trees still flowering? It made less sense than the sudden onset of winter in Equestria. Well, that thing did if I thought about Cloudsdale…
Cot walked up to me, gently laying a hoof on my shoulder. “You okay, duck?”
I shook my head, but I didn’t tell Cot what was really on my mind. I didn’t want her or anyone in the flock to know. I didn’t want them to worry, or panic. Instead I asked her about the trees, and why some were still flowering so late in the year.
Cot cocked her head to the side, not grasping what I meant. “The trees have always flowered whe-en they’ve wanted to, duck. Is it different in Equestria?”
I nodded, and tried to explain the seasons as Cot got me walking. While seasons were something Cot knew well, since the Whinny-Rose Mountains had an annual cycle of rising and falling temperatures at higher elevations – a cycle that kept all sheep moving up and down the mountain range – Cot had never seen trees follow a similar cycle together.
“Things are different in The Fang, I suppose,” Cot sighed. “It ne-ever really gets all that cold in the forest. We’d stay in the forest if we could, but it’s always safer to be as high up the mountains as it is comfortable, there are just too many strange things in the forest for a flock to adjust to.”
We were drawing closer to the forest now. Even the steep incline of the mountain had lessened and gained a layer of soil. Lone bushes and weeds cropped among rocks, and small patches of wildflowers waved in the breeze as we passed. Alk had told me at dawn that I would be entering the forest alone, and it wasn’t long now until I had to go on alone.
There was a loud growl next to me, and I leapt aside in fright and bumped into the elderly ewe. Cot, with a lifetime of living on loose rocks and steep hills, didn’t even slip as I bounced off of her and fell on the dirt. The sheep ahead slowed their walk, taking a moment to see what the commotion was about.
Cot leant down to me, concern deepening her wrinkles. “What’s wrong, Fluttershy? You practically took off just then.”
“I-I thought I heard something!” I said, looking around. “Like a–“
There was another growl, but this time I felt it, too. I looked down to my belly, and as if on cue, it growled again. I hid my face behind my forelegs, hiding the blush flaring up on my cheeks. “S-sorry, I’m getting jumpy. I’m sorry!”
“Fluttershy,” Cot said as she pulled me upright with ease. “When was the last time you ate?”
She didn’t wait for me to answer, especially when she saw that I had to think about it. Instead she tutted and led me back to the flock and Molly.
“Before you leave us, we’re going to find you something to eat.” Cot ordered – not suggested. “There should be some be-erries near the treeline that you’ll like.”
“B-but, Alk said–“
“I’m not letting you go without a full be-elly and final check on your health.”
It was definitely not a suggestion. Alk was not going to be happy
***
“I a-ain’t happy, Cot!” Alk bellowed, stomping his hoof. “You know what’s in that forest and you know you can hardly move like you used to. I a-ain’t letting anyone from the flock go to the treeline.”
Even though he was shouting at Cot, Alk was stood in front of me, making me shrink backwards into Cot’s fleece as she checked and treated the lump on my head. At his eye level, Alk looked incredibly fearsome to me. I’d never seen him so angry, and I felt horrible that I was the cause of it. I deserved to be so close to him as he argued with Cot, but I wasn’t going to tell anyone I felt that way.
Cot sighed, letting my mane fall back over the lump on my head. “Fluttershy hasn’t eaten since we found her, and she won’t say when she last ate before then. Poor girl is trying to not be a bother, Alk, but I can’t let her go without knowing that she’s had something to eat.”
Alk slapped his forehead with his hoof. “This pony is a full grown mare, Cot, she can look after herself! I’m sure she knows what blackberries look like!”
“I’m sure she does, but I want to see her eat.”
Alk was at a loss for words for a few seconds. “What? W-Why is that so important?!”
Cot sighed again, raising her voice as she unravelled the bindings on my left wing. “Because she’s gone two days with us and has never asked for food or water! She’s eaten ice and drank from streams, but she hasn’t had a single flower or berry or clump of grass to chew on. Now she’s going to be exploring that forest and scouring it for herbs and flowers not found in her homeland, but she’s going to need the energy to stay safe on her own.”
Alk snorted and looked away, cursing to himself. Silence fell between the two, and Cot slowly opened up my wing and examined it. I held my breath, swallowing down any yelps or gasps that came whenever I felt pain. Alk turned back around, deep in thought, and leant to the side to watch Cot fold my wing back and bandage it back up.
Cot stood up and trotted to the aging ram. She spoke to him, her voice calm and motherly. “You’ve been so protective of everyone ever since you were young, Alk, and I know it is for a good reason. So I’m sure you can understand why I’m protective of Fluttershy, right? Life doesn’t cease to matter outside of the flock, Alk. There are other flocks, other herds, sometimes we have to take care of more than our own.”
Alk scowled and glared at me, as if I had no right to be hearing what was being said. He looked Cot square in the eyes, and walked around her, heading back to the flock. He passed me in silence, and stopped a few feet away. He looked over to a small boulder, and I followed his gaze to a tuft of a red lying on the ground behind it.
“Molly,” Alk grumbled. “I know you’re there.”
The lamb came from her hiding place, fidgeting in her step.
“Molly.” Alk began. “If you want to say goodbye to Fluttershy, now is the time to do it.”
“Okay…” Molly whispered.
“And Cot,” Alk said, turning around. My heart strained at the sight of the old ram’s eyes. He was frightened, sad, and… somewhere really, really bad. “You get your wish, but…” he sniffed, hardening his face, “Molly is staying with us while you’re gone.”
With that, Alk went back to re-join with the flock he lead, half of whom had been watching from a distance instead of grazing. Suddenly, a pair of forelegs wrapped around my neck and squeezed. I looked down to Molly, hugging as tightly as she could.
“Be careful.” She said, burying her face into me. She was practically a different lamb to the one I first met. It was amazing how quickly we had become friends. The same could be said about Cot and I.
“I’ll be super careful.” I promised.
Molly eventually let go and stepped back. She smiled and made her way back to the flock, stopping by Alk’s side.
“Are you ready to go, duck?” Cot asked.
I nodded and rose onto all fours, pulling my saddlebags tight and pretending to adjust my headband while I dried my eyes. “Let’s go.”
***
The trees were no more than few dozen feet away. And bushes and tall grass swarmed all around them. Just inside the threshold of the forest though, the tree canopy became dense, and as the light on the forest floor became thinner so did the amount of bushes. Cot led the way, pointing to a wall of sunlit green just beyond the shadows. There was a quiet river there, with water as cold as ice, and bushes lined up along both banks. Immediately Cot spotted a something and made her way towards it, and I spotted the prickly vines arcing among the bushes, full of ripe blackberries.
Cot nibbled a blackberry off the bramble and glanced over to me. “We-ell? Dig in then, Fluttershy, they’re just right!”
I followed Cot’s technique and just ate straight from the vines, but even as I savoured the sweet taste of the fruits, I never let my guard down. My ears swivelled and scanned, twitching at any sound I heard over birdsongs and cricket chirps. We moved along the bushes, spotting more berries and munching away. Cot stopped eating and popped open her own satchel, collecting blackberries in some small jars she laid on the grass.
Even as Cot seemed to zone out while picking fruit, I couldn’t help but feel like we were being watched. Occasionally I glanced over the river, but all I saw were birds in the trees and beside the river, singing and refreshing themselves. The feeling never went away, though, and I kept listening even while eating.
“Fluttershy,” Cot piped up, not breaking her pace. “What did Alk say to you this morning?”
I froze with a berry in my teeth.
“I noticed that you and Alk were up before any of us,” Cot continued. “He usually ge-ets up first, but I didn’t think he would want to stand anywhe-ere near you unless he felt he had to. So what was the reason?”
Cot had not stopped what she was doing, which only made me feel like I was acting guilty when I had no reason to be. But something about how Alk had pulled me away and spoken to me meant that he had wanted to keep it private and probably completely secret. If it was not for the dragon roaring above us, noone else might’ve known we spoke. Was it right to tell Cot about what we talked about? Why did she need to know, anyway?
Some gears spun in my head, and I choked down the berry in my mouth. “You didn’t, um, you didn’t come with me to just ask me this, did you?”
Cot laughed, not taking her full attention away from gathering fruit. “A good gue-ess, duck, but no, I already planned to see you this far into the forest, but when I woke up this morning and saw the pair of you had been talking, it made me curious to know what he said.”
“Oh…” I pawed at the dirt under my hooves.
Cot paused, taking a moment to look me in the eyes. “Listen, duck, you’re not in trouble. It’s just… Alk doesn’t like strangers, he doesn’t like sharing anything about himself, and he…”
“And he, what?” I pressed, but Cot said nothing. She pursed her lips together, looking to me like I knew what she was thinking. I shrugged and lifted a hoof. “Well, he was worried about the herd…”
Cot nodded, but with a roll of her ankle she pushed me to go on.
“He’s very worried about Molly, and I… I think he’s really worried about you, too.”
“Oh, that bundle of fluff…” Cot grinned, turning back to gathering berries.
“He also said something about never going to the peaks, but he did anyway before you found me.”
It was Cot’s turn to freeze.
“What did he say?” the ewe asked.
“Well… he, um…” I squeaked.
“Oh, sorry. Take a deep breath, duck. It’s okay. You’re not in trouble here. Just get it off your chest.”
Then why do we feel like we’re snitching on him? A little pony whined.
I spilled over and let the truth come out. “Alk said to me that he lead the flock up the mountains because he felt that he needed to look over the other side. He said that didn’t understand why he did that, and he said that the chances of finding me the way I was when they did was impossible. He… I… I’m not a researcher, Cot. I lied to you all about that, including Molly.”
My head hung itself low and I closed my eyes. “I-I’m sorry, Cot. Please don’t hate me.”
There were a few seconds of silence. Horrible, painful silence that bore down on me with the weight of every lie I told. Every half-truth I made up to hide the painful facts from someone as young as Molly. But even under that weight, I still could not tell Cot why I had come this far, or where I was truly going. Not after what Alk had told me were his reasons for staying away from the peaks.
A gentle hoof rested itself on my shoulder, and slowly I looked up to Cot. She looked sorry, too, but I couldn’t imagine why. She’d had been nothing but generous to me. She was a real friend, one of the first friends I had found after this nightmare began.
“Listen, duck.” Cot began, pausing to wipe tears from my face. “Alk did something more than break a personal rule going up there. He brought up a lot of pain that most of the flock hasn’t recovered from.”
“Most of the flock?”
Cot nodded. “Yes, it was a long time ago, too long for Molly to remember, but everyone e-else remembers it. It wasn’t Alk’s decision to stay from the peaks – it was the entire flock’s decision. Alk broke his promise because he fe-elt that something very important was on the horizon. And when it didn’t come… Or rather…”
“When you… F-found me.” I whispered, hearing my own voice falter at what I was thinking.
“Alk felt like he had put e-everyone in danger for no good reason. He felt that he had opened up old wounds in the whole flock to just stumble upon a pony freezing to death. He didn’t know what he wanted to find up there, but—“
“It wasn’t me.” I croaked.
Cot placed both hooves on my shoulders and stared me in the eyes. “We rescued you. Alk carried you whe-en no one else would. He risked the flock for you by waiting until you could follow us down – because it would have been wrong to have left you up there alone.”
“Why didn’t he tell me? Why didn’t you?”
“Because…” Cot paused, looking around in case anyone was listening in. “Because Molly must never know.”
Oh. A little pony said. I pulled out of Cot’s grip and took a few steps back, reeling from what was finally dawning on me.
“No… You mean… She…” I couldn’t imagine it. I didn’t want to imagine. But there it was: ice, fire, and chilling screams – all inside my imagination. ”H-her parents? T-the dragons?”
Cot nodded slowly, holding herself back from bursting into tears herself. “If we had told you anything up there, you might’ve accidentally told Molly. Or given her a clue. We have to protect her, Fluttershy. She doesn’t deserve to know what happened.”
“No, no, no!” I clenched my teeth, stomping over to the riverbank. “She has every right to know! But you won’t tell her! And I… I…”
“Fluttershy?”
“I can’t tell her either.” I couldn’t bear the thought of telling her the truth. I didn’t want to be the one to snuff out the sparkle in her eyes. Molly deserved to be happy.
Molly also deserves the truth. Said the reflection in the water.
“It is not easy, duck.” Cot admitted. “But I’m glad you understand how difficult it is, and that you want what is best for Molly. Thank you so much for understanding.”
I didn’t look up from the reflection in the river. Was I really going to let this go? Was it kind to keep the truth from someone that had every right to know? Was it kind to take the happiness out of their life?
I collapsed down by the riverbank, and buried my head between my hooves.
***
Half an hour passed, and Cot had sat down facing the river bank while I picked away at a few blackberries in front of me. When did berries stop tasting so good?
I had tried to fill the pit in my stomach with berries, but all I managed to do was find another, larger pit that no amount of food could fill. I wasn’t even hungry anymore.
“Well, Fluttershy, I gue-ess this is goodbye.” Cot said, rising onto her hooves unsteadily,
I straightened up and faced Cot, bowing my head to her. “Thank you so much for everything, I’m… so sorry for being in the way and for the trouble I caused.”
Cot chuckled, trying to pull the gloom away from the pair of us. “Don’t worry about that, duck, just worry about staying safe out there. It was good meeting you and helping you on your way.”
“Please tell Molly I said goodbye, again.” I whispered. “Oh and tell Alk I’m sorry.”
“I will, Fluttershy.”
“Do you… Do you think Molly will be okay?” I asked, digging a forehoof into the soil. “She didn’t get to ask me all the questions she had.”
“Oh, Fluttershy, you answered more than she expe-ected!” laughed Cot, reaching into her satchel and showing me the blackberries she had collected. “Molly’ll be fine, espe-ecially whe-en I give her one of these jars. We don’t get to eat these very often.”
We both smiled at eachother for a few moments when Cot had a thought. “Open your saddlebags will you, duck?”
Raising my eyebrow I did what I was told. “D-Did I lose something?” I asked as I looked into the saddlebags, catching Cot lowering a jar of blackberries into one of them. I looked back at her, not sure how to really respond.
“For the journey.” Cot simply stated as she closed off her satchel. “Take care of yourself, Fluttershy. No flying for a few days, find somewhe-ere to sleep before dark, and make sure your keep an eye on that wound on your foreleg.”
I stared at her, barely absorbing what she just said. “Th-thank you,” I sputtered, breaking down.
Cot hugged me and I returned it. It was amazing what a hug could do. I felt happy. I was happy to be alive, and happy to have met someone so generous and kind since everything went wrong.
Cot pulled away and started to make her way back. “You don’t need to follow me, it’s not far. Just remember what I told you, and be careful, duck.”
“Do you think I’ll see all of you again?” I asked.
Cot stopped and looked back to me, and then looked into the forest behind me. Her eyes softened, saddening under a lifetime of memories I could not possibly know. Eventually, she looked me in the eyes. “We won’t be around for long, duck. The flock must always move along. If you need help crossing over again, I’ll tell other flocks I see to look out for you.”
“I-I’d be really thankful for that.” I said, a little embarrassed that Cot was still doing another favour for me.
“Now,” Cot sighed. “I be-etter be on my way back. Alk will be ge-etting antsy. Please be careful in there, duck. Whatever you’re looking for here, it isn’t worth getting hurt over.”
“I will. Thank you.”
“Goodbye, Fluttershy.” Cot said, turning away and passing under the shade of the trees.
“Bye.” I whispered, waving even though she had her back to me. I watched the ewe pass through the shaded section of forest and walk back into the open on the other side. I stayed where I was until she climbed up the hill and out of sight, back into the safety of her flock.
Taking a deep breath I turned to face the river. Almost a horizon away was Kinsmeer, and between here and there was a mysterious forest that I knew little about. My friends had come through here once before, but they didn’t stay long enough to learn much about The Fang. I couldn’t help but feel like I was wandering into the unknown.
I found some rocks poking above the surface of the water, and carefully made my way across to the other side.
It really is the unknown, Fluttershy, a little pony reminded. But so has everything else been since this journey began.
I stopped just short of the shade that blanketed the forest floor, mentally picking out a path to take and pulling up all the courage to take that first step. I was alone again, yes, but I was also alive. I could do this.
You can do this.
“I can do this.” I assured myself, and marched into the unknown.
