A single stallion stood alone in the centre of a small field. Over the trees, on the horizon was a small town. The stallion had a green coat, and his mane was green with yellow streaks. His tail looked like a long green vine, flowing down his flank. His eyes, a glaring gold colour, scanned the field around him, before facing his body toward the town again. He swiftly turned around on the spot; his mane longer than the average stallion, as it flowed gracefully in the strong cold breeze. He faced the opposite direction now, looking sternly at the large area in front of him.
He raked his mind, his memories all but gone. The last he remembered of his life was being in this very spot, the rest was a dense blur. His body ached as the blinding cold of the air struck his body like daggers. He was angry, angry at the loss of his memories, except for a name. Forest Growth, a name which he knew nothing about, was all he could remember about his past. He looked back at his flank, seeing a strange marking, a dark green vine tangling on itself.
He turned back, concentrating on the area of grass that he had pointed out earlier that night. He focused his mind, pointing a hoof at the ground. As he did this, the ground began to shake, the small area of grass producing large cracks. Eventually, roots began pouring out of the cracks, and digging themselves into the ground in arches. Forest Growth opened his eyes in astonishment at what he was doing. He held his concentration however, continuing to focus on the roots.
Soon, a gaping hole in the centre of the roots gave birth to a wide tree trunk. It was twenty times wider than the trees that were surrounding the field, and could easily fit a small home inside it. It began to grow, using the roots as leverage to raise itself higher. Then, branches bean popping out, the higher it went the more branches would appear, until some were even growing leaves. As it reached its highest, the tree spouted a flurry of leaves at the top.
Forest lowered his hoof, as the rumbling subsided. The surrounding field looked as if it had never been touched, aside from the ginormous tree that was now standing tall in it. The tree began swaying softly in the strong cold winds, the leaves rustling as the air blew through them. Forest smiled at his accomplishment, sitting down softly to rest from the amount of force needed for the feat of growing a tree as tall as a skyscraper. But he was not done yet.
He once again pointed his hoof at the tree, the rumbling returning. This time, the ground erupted in a mass amount of vines, a brownish-green colour. They began flowing around the tree, climbing its trunk and worming around the branches. Then, they stopped moving, and the tree was covered in vines. But Forest didn’t stop there, as he continued making a large door at the base of the tree, with windows as you went up, and rooms could be seen sprouting inside of the mass amount of wood.
Finally, Forest lowered his hoof, placing it on the ground and following through with his other hooves at a steady walking pace. He opened his door, sidling through it and into the average sized living room. As he closed the door, he could smell the aroma of fresh wood as he climbed the stairs, his hand rubbing against the smooth interior of the tree. He always liked nature, even though he never remembered anything, he knew he always loved it.
Nature was free, and could what it wanted, it had no government to tell it what to do, no ponies to make fun of it or damage it. Though many try to damage it, nature has shown that it has the power over us, not the other way round. So what had caused nature to become cold? What caused it to make the ponies lives miserable with cold air? And why was it that Forest somehow had a way of controlling it? Why was he different? These questions would be answered another time.
Forest slowly managed to make it upstairs. Here, he kept the same pace, reaching the door handle in front of him and turning it, opening the door to reveal a small bedroom. A bed sat in the corner of the room, next to a wooden bedside table. Along the opposite wall were a chest of drawers and a large cupboard. Finally, the room was fitted with a medium sized window above the chest of drawers, which overlooked most of the field.
Forest moved over to the window, and peered out at the field he had planted his new home. He could just imagine the glorious flowers and trees that he would set out in the gardens he had planned. He did not know why, but he wanted to enjoy his secluded life as much as he could. The field was fairly close to the nearby town, so Forest could move in and out without too many noticing him. That way he wouldn’t have to live on just plantation, and maybe acquire some seeds.
He drew his hoof through the air, as if planning out a map of the garden in his mind. He added the 6 sections, and the footpaths between them, the gates and the names of the plants he would grow. He then remembered the library he saw downstairs in his living room. He decided he would go to the town soon to get books as well. He could catch up on a few years reading time that he had missed by forgetting it all. He chuckled at the thought.
Finally, he turned back to the rest of the room, looking at the fine detailing in the wood of the drawers and cupboard. Then, he slowly made his way to the singular bed in the corner, lifting the covers as he shoved himself underneath them. He laid his head on his pillow, and welcomed the warmth of his mattress to fight the horrible cold he had experienced outside. Soon, he was fast asleep and heading into the realm of the dream.