"Ugh..."
When I woke up, my surroundings were blurry. I blinked a few times and saw...broken wood? Rubble?
"H-Howdy!" I heard a shaky voice say.
"Y-You're awake..."
"Where...what..." I started to stammer. It all came into focus. In front of me was a creamy yellow stallion with a long, golden mane. I noticed he kept glancing up at the ceiling, nervously.
"Y'crashed in here a coupla hours ago," the colt said.
"Completely destroyed mah here home. Luck'ly, ah was able t'pull ya under this here table b'fore anything bad happened to the either of us. It's a sturdy table, but ah don't know how longer it'll hold up...hopef'lly ponies 'll be lookin' fer us soon, b'cause ah don't know if it'll be able to hold up much longer..."
This pony...this weird pony...saved my life? But why? If he had just left me, he probably could have escaped and gotten out OK...but instead he saved me...? The pony tried to look up more, but gave a yelp of pain through clenched teeth and quickly stuck it back down.
"Mah hind legs...they're stuck under this here debris...prah'bly broken...
This pony that had come out of nowhere to save my life, he broke his legs in order to save my life? I would have left him...unless he was a Wonderbolt...or Rainbow Dash...or my parents...well, it depends on who it was...but still...
I tried to sit up, but I couldn't move. At all. I just lay there, completely petrified. And whenever I tried to move, but immense pain shot through my entire body. I screamed. The other pony closed his eyes and sighed.
"Ah'm pretty sure...yer spine...ah think it was busted..."
"WHAT!?!?" I screamed.
I tried to get up, spread my wings, fly away, away from here, back to my normal life, back to the tour, away from this pain. But I couldn't it just sent more pain ripping through my body. Not a single muscle moved. My screams turned into sobs. I would never fly again. Flying...the thing I loved more than anything...never again would I be able to fly. What did I ever do to deserve this? I had done some pretty bad things in my life...but...that didn't mean...my life deserved to be...ruined...
"...Ah'm sorry..." the other stallion spoke up.
Soarin noticed he was starting to cry too.
"Ah tried...t'get you out before anything..happ'ned...but...ah cudhn't...it was too...too late..."
He seemed to feel so guilty. He must have really tried. He tried to get me out of here OK...he tried...
"Name's Braeburn," he said.
"Soarin," I said, weakly.
There was an awkward silence for a few seconds. It was broken by a deafening crack. Braeburn's head shot up, but was quickly pulled back down as he winced in pain.
"The table..." I asked.
All I got was a nod.
My choices: die. Be crushed by tonnes of debris created by me. Or never fly, nevertheless walk again.
I think I'll go with option one.