//------------------------------// // The Not-So Gentle Giant - [comedy] // Story: The Treasure Trove of One-Shots and Story Prompts // by MrPengu1n //------------------------------// The stars made it worth it. Sure, his circumstances weren't desirable-being the sole survivor of a sunken ship in the middle of the ocean left to drift aimlessly for who knew how long with no hope of rescue in the foreseeable future-but the stars made it worth it. Glancing up at the night sky for just one second, he saw more stars in that one moment than he had ever seen in his entire life, combined. Sure, he had seen pictures of the Milky Way before, but nothing, nothing could compare to seeing it with your own eyes. He could stare at them forever. But alas, they were beginning to fade as the sun crept up in the east. He took the opportunity to check his compass. Yup, east was east. He set the compass down and yawned; he had taken to sleeping during the day so he wouldn't have to perpetually squint. But before he slept, he followed his instructions and gave his equipment a once-over. In addition to the compass, he had a hatchet, a tiny anchor, a jackknife, a first aid kit, water desalting equipment, fishing tackle and equipment, emergency water and rations, and, finally, his guidebook to survival at sea. He would have also had an emergency signal mirror to shine light at planes flying overhead, but like the stellar genius he was, he had thrown it overboard on his first day, thinking it was merely shrapnel from the wreck. Of course, he later discovered his err when he read the manual. But it didn't matter anyway; he hadn't seen a single plane in all the-how long had it been again?-five days, now, lost at sea. Sighing, he had a small meal of emergency water and rations before putting down to sleep. He was running low, and would eventually have to learn how to fish from the book, but not today. Lying down, he took the tarp that had covered the inflatable liferaft and pulled it over his body to protect from the eventual harsh sunlight of the noonday sun, and closed his eyes. He let the slow, rhythmic rocking of the waves lull him to sleep, thanking the powers that be for the umpteenth time that he didn't get seasick. He was awoken by an abrupt halt in rocking of the raft. He threw the tarp back, squinting in the harsh noonday sunlight and frowning at the sunburn on his hands that he had accidentally left out from under the tarp. Ignoring them for the time being, he reached for the side of the raft, his body wobbling wildly in the absence of the rocking waves. Scrambling to lift his eyes higher than the side of the raft, the first thing he spotted was sand. His eyes widened in surprise "Land!" he screamed involuntarily, and frantically crawled over the side of the raft, landing unceremoniously in the sand. He dug his fingers into the warm granules and pressed his body into the land gratefully, laughing and smiling at the feeling of real, solid ground under his body. He lifted his head and rested his chin on the sand, and the second thing he spotted was a tiny tree. "What?" he thought aloud, crawling over to it. A tiny replica of a tree, about a foot tall, not a leaf out of place. It almost looked real. He tilted his head this way and that, looking at the tiny tree in confusion, "Well that's weird." he concluded, and finally dragged himself to his feet, waving his arms wildly about to keep his balance. His first thought being to assure the safety of his raft, he turned around and, tightly gripping the rope wound around it, dragged it fully ashore. When the raft was safely on land, he fell backwards, spent from the exertion. He turned to look at the tiny tree again, only to find another behind it. His brow raising in confusion, he shuffled his position so that he could see behind him. An entire forest of nothing but tiny trees, none taller than a foot and a half. "Well that's weirder," he concluded. Deciding that he would receive no answers sitting down, he stood back up and set off inland. Stopping before he had gotten too far, he ran back to his raft and grabbed his jackknife, his water, and his hatchet, just in case. He stuck them into his pockets and set off inland again, careful not to step on any of the tiny trees. He must have walked a mile or so before he decided to stop in an empty clearing. He pulled out the water and took a sip, reflecting on his situation. Now he couldn't judge-this was the first deserted island he had ever discovered-but it just seemed odd that everything on the island was...tiny. The tiny forest that had met him on the beach was still going strong, but he had found ways to avoid stepping through it by following clearings that looped around congregations of foliage. It was in one of those clearings that he was now, taking a breather. He took out his water and took a sip of it. It was warm, but he had gotten used to that in recent days. He hadn't the slightest clue where he was, so he didn't even invest time in pondering his location. With nothing else to look at, he looked at the tiny trees all around him. He had decided that they were real; they just looked too detailed and too numerous to be fake. It's almost like Gulliver's Travels. I'm a giant here. he thought to himself, smiling at the thought of being a giant. "Wow, you're a big fella, aren't you?" asked a tiny, feminine voice. He looked all around him, but was unable to discern the source of the noise. "Down here," the voice giggled. He followed the voice's instructions and looked down at the ground. There, a foot or so away from him, was a tiny, yellow pony. It couldn't have been taller than three inches. It could probably fit in his hand. The little pony dug into a tiny basket next to it's hooves, "Not to worry, I have something for you too," it said, and pulled it's head back up, a tiny apple held proudly in it's mouth. His eyes widened when he realized not only was there a tiny pony within arm's reach of him, but it was also talking. "Well go on, take it!" the yellow pony urged, holding out the apple proudly. In awe of his situation, he reached out and held his hand out on the ground. The pony dropped the tiny apple on his finger, and he brought it up to look at. It looked just like any other apple he had ever seen, except it was less than a half inch across. "You're a funny looking dragon," the pony said with a giggle, "But I take care of all animals." He looked down at the tiny pony and finally spoke, "I'm not a dragon," he said, not sure of what else to say. The pony looked startled, "Oh, I didn't know you could talk," "I didn't know you could talk!" he argued, "What are you, anyway?" "Well I'm a pony, silly," the pony giggled, "My name is Fluttershy, what's yours?" He looked at 'Fluttershy' with his mouth agape. There was a pony, a tiny pony, a tiny talking pony, and it was asking for his name. Every one of his senses screamed out that this meeting shouldn't even be possible, but his eyes and ears weren't lying. "Edgar," he said finally. "Hello, Edgar!" Fluttershy greeted with a smile, then picked up her basket, "Well, it was nice meeting you, but I need to go home; you should too," and she turned around and began trotting away. Edgar was about to say something, but he was still trying to cope with the fact that he was holding a discussion with a tiny, talking, yellow pony, so it came out as an unsure squeak, "Uh-..." Fluttershy stopped and turned her head, eyes full of motherly concern, "Aw, are you lost, Edgar?" she asked. She seemed so seriously concerned Edgar almost ruptured a lung laughing then and there. But he held back his chortles and nodded-it wasn't not true. Fluttershy suddenly floated into the air, flying up to his face. "You can fly..." Edgar breathed in awe. Though he wasn't sure why he was so surprised-he should have been more concerned with the fact that the flying creature was a tiny, talking pony. "Well, of course I am!" Fluttershy giggled, "I'm a Pegasus, after all." Edgar suddenly spotted a pair of tiny, tiny wings on her back, flapping lazily to keep her afloat. Fluttershy suddenly flew over and kissed Edgar's nose, "Don't worry, not-dragon, we'll get you back home," she promised with a smile, "Follow me, I'll take you to my home!" and she began flying off, her basket hanging from one of her hooves. Edgar, not having enough time to know how to react to the tiny, talking, flying, yellow pony, got up and followed her, stepping carefully around the tiny forests. "I'm a human, by the way," he corrected, though internally he was screaming this is the weirdest thing I have ever done. "A human?" Fluttershy repeated, "I've never heard of one of those."