Nothing guided her steps except the general desire to get as far away from everything as possible. Far from the heartbreak. Far from those eyes.

She did not know where to go.
Yet some information she had acquired during classes in geography helped her run a process of elimination.

She could not go north. There lay Canterlot.
She could not go East. There lay the far to dangerous Everfree Forest.
She could not go south. There lay the Gnastly Groves. And beyond them the vast plains and deserts that stretched all the way to Appelossa and beyond.

Everywhere there was ponies. And where there was ponies, there would be eyes. Eyes that would look at her in that hurtful way. Ponies was something to be avoided. Getting away from Ponies meant to get away from their Cities and towns. Yet they where everywhere. Cities and towns dotted the map from corner to cornet. Ponies had taken over the world. Was there nowhere left untouched yet harmless enough not to pose a risk to her being?

She had little to no information of what laid west. Some forest perhaps. An area sparsely populated woods with little to no civilization in it. If she was to get far away from everything

So the body steered its course. On legs that moved on their own. leaning from side to side as it steered away from obstacles that her unseeing eyes registered.

Sweetie was like a passenger. Locked in her own mind. And her mind was a sea of chaos. Heartbreak and sorrow and confusion that had flooded her systems once again began to take a hold on her continuous as the feelings slowly returned. and these feelings drove her to make her body move even faster. Sweetie did not mind not having direct control. She wanted to be far, far away from everything. and this one trail of thought became the command which all other systems worked to support. The directive around which they pulled themselves together as she ran.

For how long she ran she did not know. She simply moved faster than she should be able to, in a speed she should not have been able to keep, further then her setting would allow her to. But the settings where currently overridden by the new directive and their restoration prioritized low on the streams of data that being sorted out.

Until eventually, the reboot was completed, and her settings caught up with her.

-:: System rebooted // !Warning! // Legwork and top speed // above set limit // Adjusting strain sequences accordingly // Raising heartbeat simulation // Adjusting breath intake // Strain and fatigue sequence commencing // Initiating lactic acid simulation sequence::-

Sweetie tripped and fell as a massive cramp ceased her legs. She laid in the grass, unable to stand, completely out of breath and could only wheeze for air as she had to clench her teeth against the pain. Her heart drummed so hard in her chest that it felt like it was drilling its way out of her.

For several minutes she laid there with aching legs. Even when the cramp ceased her legs where so sore they felt like wet spaghetti. She had to lean against a tree less her legs would give out from under her.

Sweetie ran her head into the three she was leaning against. She tried to bang the stupid thought and the stupid voices out of her head. But doing so only caused her more pain.

She grabbed her acing forehead and sank down on her haunches, Leaning her back against the naked tree.

Why did she have these thoughts in her head!? Why did she have these voices in her head!?Who had put them there?
The most obvious answer was her family- Mom, dad, big sister.
They had made her after all. At least she thought they had. Or maybe they lied about that to?
They had, after all, lied about so much.
A part of her insisted that they had not lied. They had simply never said anything.
Well they had lied by never saying anything!

And if they had put these thoughts in her head – was that like programing?
Robots where suppose to be programed.
Was that why she thought she was a real filly? Because they had programed her to think that she was?

There it was. The undeniable evidence. The metallic leg sticking out from a thin layer of skin. Two broken wires where sticking out from between the synthetic muscles, almost up at the joint at the knee. And dangles uselessly all the way down to her fetlock. She did not know what purpose they served. The leg seemed to move and bend just fine despite the broken wires. Yet that did not ease the fact that she should not have wires, or metal for that matter, in her body.

To save herself from seeing it she pulled a sock of her back legs and put it over her foreleg. That way both her forelegs looked symmetrical at least.

Her socks had started to fall apart at the seams. They where becoming soggy and brown with mud.
Improvised socks did not good hoof wear make.

-:: !Warning! // Moist detected // Air temperature bellow comfort settings // Body temperature dropping // Initiating shivering sequence // Initiating sneezing sequence … ::-

Sweetie felt an itch in her nose. Something tickled inside it. Ans she sneezed. A booger hung from her nostril and in a moment of unthinking she rubbed her right foreleg across her muzzle. Only then did she notice how cold her leg was against her skin. And she saw that she had wiped herself on her metallic leg. She let out a dry laugh. Both at the fact that her nose could produce boogers. And at that her exposed mechanics had just been greased by it.

Could she even get sick? Or was that just some form of simulated sequence? Just who programs a robot to get sick and sneeze boogers?

Sick or not it was cold out here. And she was only getting wetter the longer she sat here. The tree above her had no leaves and the rain was pouring down on her as malice as ever.

She rubbed her little hooves tight around her body. Wherever she had to go she had to go somewhere. She could not just sit here.

But she had no idea where home was. All around her where just trees trees trees in every direction. If there had been hoofprints they had been washed away by the rain.
She span in circles until she got dizzy.

She tried to recall what had transpired. But it was a broken, sprawling mess. As distant and unreal as a dream. Except it was more akin to a nightmare. She remembered a moment when she didn't feel anything at all. She looked at rarity and she felt nothing! NOTHING!
It was a feeling she could not describe, for it was not a feeling at all. It was a hole. An emptiness where a feeling should have been.

That emptiness seemed almost preferable to the horror that had befallen her. Not just the mechanical nature of her being. But the way everypony had acted towards it.
Everypony acted like they no longer knew her. Like she was some total stranger.
They all hated her. Scootaloo blamed her for stealing her family. She hated her because she was a robot. All the children had wanted to destroy her. And Rarity had hit her.

Her heart almost stopped at the recalling. Had Rarity really hit her? She tried to Remember. Tried to focus, but everything was to blurry to make out. All she knew was that there was a moment when she had sought comfort and embrace. And Rarity had not provided that.

Because... Because she wasn't Sweetie any more. Because she was not the Sweetie they knew.
In a horrible way she could relate. Because she wasn't the Sweetie she was suppose to be.
She didn't feel like herself any more. She didn't know who she was any more What she was anymore. Was she a Pony? A robot? A bloodbot?

Images returned to that horrible movie she had seen.
Was she really a bloodbot – sent as a sleeper agent. Did that mean all her memories where false?
Was there a real Sweetie Belle somewhere out there? Somewhere cold and alone. Abducted and replaced? Should she go find her? And bring her back?
It felt like the right thing to do.

But then what? If she returned the real Sweetie home. Then she would still be just a robot replica. She would never have a real family.

Well if she could not have them. Then some other Sweetie could neither!
But... wouldn't that be like wishing death upon yourself?

These thought where making her head spin. She decided to dismiss them.
Maybe there wasn't any other Sweetie out there.
But if there was no Sweetie, who was she?
Scootaloo's words rang in her ears. That she was just a “perfect” little replica of a filly bought by her rich parents, instead of adopting. A home stealer. A bot.

Why? Why was she a bot? Had her parents made her this way? why had they made her a bot? Just how was little fillies made anyway. Somehow she just knew they were not made like her. Little fillies had blood and bones and other disgusting stuff inside them. Why hadn't she? And why did that matter?

All these things inside her did not change who she was. yet everypony acted like she was no longer the same.
Maybe she wasn't. She sure didn't feel the same anymore. And how could she know herself if she did not know what she was?

Sweetie Belle was loved. Sweetie Belle had a home. A Family. Sweetie Belle was a real pony.
All that already seemed like another life. Somepony else life. Maybe because it maybe was.

Cause whomever she was, she was not Sweetie Bell. She was not loved. She was hated. She had no home. No family. None that was real anyway. She wondered briefly if this was how adopted foals felt when they found out their family was not their real family (that was how it worked right?). At least adopted foals where real Ponies. She was not a real pony. She was something that had stolen the place of a real pony. Whether that was the place of the real Sweetie Belle or of some other adopted pony she did not know. She just know that she wasn't suppose to be there. How could she? When no pony else wanted her there?

She wanted to go back. She wanted to go home. But she could not.
She could not go back to those meany beans. She could not go back to a place where everypony hated her. She would not go back so they could look that way at her again. So they could hit her again and call her names and other things.

She sneezed again. She shivered and was only getting colder the longer she sat here. She had get up. Had to keep moving. Had to keep warm.

The number one survival guide that they had learned in the school field-trips and scout core was that if you get lost - Do not walk I circles. Pick a direction and walk in in. And so she did.
Actually the survival guide said stay in one place, build a shelter and wait for rescue.
But why would anypony rescue her? Everypony hated her and would probably have run her out of town with pitchforks and torches if she had not left first.
Besides, if she stayed then she would freeze to death.
That is, if robots even could freeze to death?

Not wanting to think any more about it. She picked a direction and started walking. Walked in the direction that felt like it led away from Ponyville. Away from those meany beans. She did not know where she was going. She did not know what she was. Or where she belonged.

She only knew one thing for sure. This was going to be the worst Hearth's Warming Eve ever.

Sweetie walked for what seemed like an eternity. But the forest was without end. She did not even know what she would do once she was out of the woods

She knew that If she did not have a home. She wanted to find a new home. Somewhere where no pony knew who she was. Where nopony knew her secret. Where no pony would judge her. But finding such a place proved difficult as the woods was without end. The rain was a constant companion. And the further she walked the colder and hungrier she got.

Cold and hunger made her regrets her previous thoughts. She wanted to get back home. Maybe everything would not be so bad after all. Maybe Scootaloo had not meant the the things she said? Maybe Rarity had not hit that hard? Maybe she had just been scared and covered her face? And Sweetie herself jumped right into her elbows?

Homesickness began to cease her heart. But she was completely lost, and could not find her way back.
Sticking true to her scout rule she kept moving. She had to find somepony who could show her the way home. Somepony who could shelter her. Somepony who could just get her some food and rest. Anything would be better than these endless bare trees.

Her stomach growled. And quite painfully so.
When was the last time she had eaten? It must have been at breakfast, when these voices fist started apearing in her head. Had she really not eaten anything else for a whole day? Or was that two days? It sure felt like it. She could not tell how many days or nights had passed. There was no moon nor sun in the sky. She thought about the overstuffed lunchbox she had brought to school. All the food inside that she never got to eat.

What if she never got to eat again? Would she never enjoy another full course meal? Would she never go to another restaurant? Would she never have another picnic? Never another Ice cream? Or candy?
Would she never get to taste mothers heavenly chocolate cookies again?
The thought made her almost faint.

But If she was a robot? did that mean she did not actually have to eat? They why did it hurt so much to starve. Who programs a robot to starve?

She wanted to hit herself again. But did not have the strength. Walking was becoming hard. Her socks where heavy from rain and mud. her vision was blurred by strands of her pink mane hanging down in her eyes. Her tail was beginning to drag in the dirt behind her. Rarity had always taught her to maintain her curly hair and she thought she looked quite cute in them. But now the curls were washed out to their full length and becoming quite the bother.

-:: Logic solution :: Cut them off ::-

What if she really where doomed to walk around this forest for her entire life. what if she never saw another living soul again? Would she never see her friends of family again? Would she never have any friends or family at all? Would she ever get to celebrate Hearts Warming Eve ever again?

She almost fainted again. Was it from sadness or enervation? Maybe both. The hunger and cold made it hard to think. The only things they where good for was keeping her awake. There was simply no possible way she could fall asleep in these conditions. Yet that was exactly what she wanted to do.

She wanted to just lay down and rest. She had never been so tired in her entire life. Never been so hungry in her life. Never, ever been so utterly lonely. Why. Why was this happening to her?!
She wanted something to eat. Someplace to get out of the cold and sweet Celestia she wanted somepony to hug her!

It was then she heard voices. Voices of ponies. At first she thought she might just be imagine things. that she was so tired and hungry she had started to hallucinate. But the voices remained.

That ignited a small spark of hope in her, and gave her energy to start running in the direction of the voices.
Perhaps they could show her out of these cursed woods. Perhaps they could share something to eat. Hopefully they knew of somewhere she would rest and dry herself. Maybe they would even be her new best friends and family.

She followed the sound of the voices and eventually came out of the woods and out on a small plateau. A rocky edge marking a sudden drop down into a running river. A small cliff leaning out a few meters above the water.

From there she was able to see the source of the voices. A bit up the river was an area illuminated by lanterns. in the light she was able to make out the shapes of two ponies, one big and one small. standing atop what looked like some sort of ravens nest. A big wall of wood that covered the width of the river. It looked almost like the sort of dam that beavers would build. But without the density, since water was leaking through in so many places that it looked like the dam was crying with a hundred eyes. Crying over its own pitiful existence. And the tears that flowed from its face, along with the rain that washed over it, made the river below still appear wide and deep enough to swallow a pony.

From the distance she could only see the silhouettes of the two ponies. A big broad pony she guessed was a stallion, and a small one barely more than a colt. Maybe an older and a younger sibling. Or perhaps even a father and a son. They where standing in the middle of the big pile of sticks and logs, facing each other like they where talking about something. Over the sound of the river and the rain she could not make out what they said. But it looked like they where inspecting the dam (If it could be called that).

In the middle of it was some sort of a big wooden wheel. The smaller pony pulled some sort of lever up on the dam and a port opened at the top. Making water pour through that sent the wheel spinning, faster and faster. The whole area suddenly lit up even brighter as a dozen more lights sparkled into existence and a small electronic hum was added to the air. The small pony jumped around in joy and the bigger pony laughed so loud Sweetie could hear his deep base tone all the way to where she was standing.

However. A loud crack filled the air as the dam suddenly ruptured. Water was pouring out through the port with higher and higher pressure, sending the well spinning so fast it was becoming a blur in Sweetie's eyes. The speed of the wheel began to shake the whole dam. More and more holes opened up shooting streams of water so hard that it took pieces of the dam with it. The two ponies on top of it turned to run in opposite directions when half of the dam suddenly gave in to the rivers unrelenting pressure and collapsed. The half the smaller pony was standing on.

Sweetie watched, frozen in horror as the tidal wave poured through, and took half the dam with it. She felt the cliff she was standing on shake as the water-masses hit its foundation.

And on top of it all was that little pony. Sweetie saw him fall as the dam disappeared under him. Saw him get carried away by a river that suddenly became twice as deep, three times as wild and filled with sticks and logs the size of three trunks. saw him tumbling past below her screaming at the top of his lungs for help.

That was the first thought that went through Sweeties mind. All of the voices agreed with this conclusion. That she would only jeopardize herself in a reckless rescue act. That her ability’s as a filly where insufficient to save his life. Except her heart.
Her heart-drive sang a different tune. A craving to save somepony so desperately in need. Just as sure as her mind calculated her own demise in that river it also confirmed his. That little colt was gonna die if she did not do something. And every part of her mind agreed that there was nopony around in any position to save that colt but her.

Her brain told her that the odds were against her. Her heart told her to screw the odds.

She got a shock as she broke the surface. The water was freezing cold and the current much stronger then she expected. To top it of it was filled with logs and debris from the broken dam who shoved and jostled her around with ruthless force. She was flushed down the worlds deadliest waterslide. A waterslide filled with More and more debris as more and more pieces broke loose from the makeshift dam and threw their weight into the water like battering rams.

She tried to swim but the giant logs and waves kept trowing her around. Whirlpools spun her around and the river turned left and right. She had lost sight of the colt and her only source of his whereabouts where his constant shouting.

The words of the older stallion echoed through the trees, but there already becoming distant. Sweetie could barely hear it over the roar of the river. She tried to shout her own words of encouragement. But was hit in the head with a log that knocked all air out of her.

Sweetie started tumbling around from the force and ended up under water. She had not even been able to take a breath before going down and her exhausted lungs where instantly screaming for more air.

Sweetie managed get her head above water and took a huge gasp of air. Her head was hurting from the cold and her hooves where beginning to feel numb. In her head some system kept screaming that her skin was suffering severe cooling, that she had to prioritize her own safety. But she still looked for the colt. She saw him further down the river. Not to far from herself. He struggled to climb upon a log as it rolled in the water. All the while he was screaming.

Then another log came and struck him in the side. It almost looked like he had been crushed between the two logs of timber. A second later Sweetie got hit in the back of the head herself. She went underwater again. Tumbling round and round while grabbing her acing head. It felt like her neck was gonna spit open. She had not seen what hit her but it must have been another log.

She managed to resurface for a sort while. And her ears where met with nothing but the roar of the river. The colt wasn't screaming any more.

A huge crash suddenly echoed over the river, followed by loud rapid splashing. Sweetie turned around and saw to her horror that the waterwheel had torn itself from the dam and now came rolling down the river, pushing all the logs out of its way and crunching whatever smaller debris remained beneath its rudders. Sweetie tried to swim out of its way but the bogs where blocking her way. Closing her in this narrow corridor with the giant wheel approaching fast. Panicking she paddled her little hooves for all they where wort. Trying to stay ahead of the crushing wheel of death. But the sound of the splashes that it made only got closer, until it was right on top of her.

Sweetie got caught on one of its rudders and pushed to the bottom of the river. The rudder pinned her to the bottom. The sludge and sand was loose and slid away as she was pushed into it. but that mattered little as it pushed all the air out of her as it rolled over her.

Sweetie coughed, but only ended up with a mouthful of water. She pulled bout hooves over her mouth and managed to just prevent pulling the foul water into her lungs. Instead she swallowed it, and had to keep her hooves pinned over her lips not to open her mouth and breathe underwater. She was all out of air. Desperately she started flaying her legs around to get to the surface. She managed to kick her way out of the sludgy bottom. But the surface was blocked by logs.

Like a stim of wild fish fleeing a large predator the river was filling up with debris. From smaller sticks to bigger logs and leaves, and it all tumbled over each other as it poured down the river. Piled together, on top of each other so that they formed a barrier between her and the air she so desperately needed.

Her lungs started to burn and she almost sucked in water as the need to breathe became overwhelming. Her desperate wailing's got her nowhere and she her mind became dizzy. Unable to focus on anything other than the fact that she needed air. Her strokes lost any form of swimming graze and just became fruitless wailing.

But the wall of logs above her had no end. It remained over her as it flowed flowed down the violent river. She could not swim past it. She tried to push through them. But every time they just knocked her back down into the lower current.

Her lungs felt like they where collapsing. She clutched her eyes shut, and wailed harder. But her strokes only made her weaker. And the need to breathe stronger.

-:: !Warning! // Oxygen levels dropping // Oxygen deprive sequence running // Breathe command recommended // !Error! // Command Aborted // Contradiction :: under water // !Warning! // Strain on lung nerve clusters increasing // Pain threshold approaching ::-

Her lungs felt like they where beginning to knot together. Harder and harder. The pain was becoming unbearable and she knew she was gonna break inside.

It was then that one of the logs got knocked into the lower current. It hit her right in the gut and pinned her to the bottom again. Sweetie opened her mouth to scream. And her vision was filled with bubbles as the last of her air escaped her breath. And as she did she could no longer resist the urge to pull a huge desperate gasp.

Water ruched into her both and down into her lungs. The act that should have made the knots in her chest release only made them worse. Her lungs knotted so hard they felt like they where gonna tear themselves apart.

-:: !Warning! // Water in airpump // Oxygen levels :: Zero // Nerve clusters reaching maximum settings // Pain threshold breached // Safety setting breached // Safety setting override initiated // Turning off lung Nerve clusters // Turning of airpump sensors // Turning off airpump // Breathing sequence in stand by mode // Speech-breath sync disabled ::-

In a flash, The pain was gone. As was the need to breathe, And even the horrible feeling of water in her lungs. For a few seconds Sweetie just remained on the bottom of the river, feeling the Pain becoming but a distant memory, wondering if she was dead.

No. She was not dead. She could still feel the Ice cold water around her, hear the rush of the river in her ears and the pressure of the log in her gut. But it was not as overwhelming as the ace in her lungs had been. By comparison it was almost nothing. Contradictory - the stinging feeling of frozen water helped her mind clear. She was able to focus once again. Focus on removing the log that pinned her down.

She put all four hooves on the log and pushed. It gave way with little resistance and continued down the river. As it passed over her, Sweetie grabbed a hold around a branch remaining on its rear and let it drag her out of the sludgy bottom.

Her mind returned to the colt-in-distress. She realized she had lost much distance to him. And she had to catch up fast. She let go of the log and swam up to the wall of logs floating above. No longer interested in breaking through them. Instead she grabbed whatever branches and sticks remained on the logs and started pulling herself downstream – so fast that she was practically running up-side-down.

She peered under water for anything that could look like a colt flaying around. A pair of legs kicking against the stream. A tail. Or even a back. Any form of motion.

Finally the logs started to thin out.
It was then that she recognized the shape of a pony. She almost missed it due to his color scheme. A brown body with green hair easily blending in with the trunks of trees surrounding them. And to her fears it was not kicking around. It was motionless. Slowly sinking. Back towards the bottom of the river and legs hooves helplessly dangling above.

Sweetie let go of the log and threw herself across the water. She managed to collide with the colt and grabbed him with both forelegs. She began kicking her rear legs and managed to get bout her and the colts head above water.

Next step. She had to get them both out of the water. But the strong current and the logs around them would not let them reach the rivers edge. The river had them in a strong grip and would not let go. Desperately she looked ahead of her and saw the big waterwheel. Still standing upright and rolling down the river.

She started swimming for it. Kicking her back legs while still pressing the colt against her chest. He was getting slippery and threatened to slide out of her hooves. Sweetie summoned all her strength and managed to reach the waterwheel. She thought about all the times she had gotten into trouble with the CMC and only managed to escape by the grit of her teeth. She needed that strength now. The strength of a crusader.

She reaffirmed her grip around the colt with one hoof, and with the other she grabbed a rudder on the waterwheel.

“CMC rescue rangers.” She muttered between her teeth as the rudder rose and carried them both up the waterwheel. She almost lost her grip on the slippery rudder. But the round wheel flattened out the higher she got, until she was lying on her stomach on the very top of the wheel.

No time to rest though. As the ride down the wheel had already begun. Sweetie got up and quickly pulled the colt up on her back. From here she had a clear sight of the rivers edge. And just as the waterwheel hit another turn in the river – Sweetie jumped.

Her fall might have been somewhat softened by the muddy, slippery ground. Sweetie tumbled around and should have gotten all the air knocked out of her, Except she had no air in her lungs. Instead only water flowed out of her mouth.

Every part of her body felt sore. Her legs where like wet noodles. She was soaked, cold and exhausted, and should have needed go gasp, cough and pant for air. She should have needed to catch her breath.

But there was nothing. No heavy gasps escaped her lips. The need to breathe was completely washed away. She could only lie with her mouth wide open, and not breathe. She could only listen to her heart beating a drum-solo in her ears, and feel the rain falling on her. She almost had not notice that she had left the water as the rain above it was just as hard and cold.

A lot of unwanted thoughts began to creep uninvited into her mind.
What if she was never able to breathe again? Did that mean she was dead? Or dying? A pony should not be able to live without breath. They needed it to live, and talk, and scream. Come to think of it - had she not screamed as she jumped from the waterwheel? How could she speak if she had no breath? And speaking of breath - there was somepony else who's breathing she needed to be concerned about.

“Hey ... Are you okay?” She asked, trying not to think about how she was able to do that. Her mouth moved. Her lips formed the words. There was just no breath pushing them out.

She turned to look at where the colt had fallen. His brown body was almost indistinguishable from he mud he was covered in. He did not answer her. He wasn't even moving.

She got up on sour legs and walked over to him. She flipped him over and began shaking him.

No response. Fear for his life once again filled her. Sweetie put her ear to his chest, as Cheerilee had once taught them to do during life saving class, and listened for a heartbeat. And luckily she found one. She moved her ear over to the colts mouth and listened for any sigh of breathing. But she found none.

Cheerilee had said that if some pony isn't breathing you have to give them artificial respiration. You had to blow your own breath into their lungs like you blow it into a balloon. Or else they could die. Sweetie did not want him to die. She had to give him the mouth to mouth method. But how? Here lungs where standing still. She had no breath!

No! It could not end this way. Not now. Not after she had struggled so hard to save him. She did not care if she could not breathe. She still had lungs and she was gonna use them! She forced herself to open her mouth and suck air down into her lungs.

-:: Expel foreign fluid ::-

She breathed out, and a lot of water poured out of her mouth. She puked it all up over the colt, drowsing him like she was a hose. She had to turn her mouth away less she would drown him a second time.

Finally the water was out of her and the could begin the mouth to mouth. It was the weirdest thing ever. Not only to have a colts cold blue lips against hers. But that she felt nothing breathing in or out. Normally one feels the lungs stretch with deep breaths. Feels the chest rise and sink. Sweetie felt nothing. She had to force the breath in and out. The only way she knew she was getting any air into the colts lungs was by looking at his chest.

She removed her mouth to take another breath when the colt, in turn, puked water on her. As his chest sank a lot of nasty river-water was expelled from his lungs. He started coughing and spat it all up in Sweeties face. Sweetie was so taken aback that she jumped away from him.

She sat still in the rain and just watched the colt rasp and struggle for breath. At least he was alive.
She wanted to release a sigh of relief. But none came.

That made the unwanted thoughts come back into her head. She had drowned. But did not die nor loose consciousness. Instead she had just lost some fundamental part of herself.
Another fundamental part of herself, she thought as she looked down on her leg.

By some miracle the socks where still attached to her. The fabric had shrunken and tightened its grip to her fur. Apparently it did not go well with water.
And neither did her lungs, she though. If she even had lungs. If she didn't. Then what purpose did her breath serve? why did she even need to breathe? Who programs a robot to breathe under water anyway?

Wait! Was she thinking of herself as a robot again? Stupid thoughts. Out of my head! She thought as she started knocking herself on the side of her head.

“That used to be the worst I knew. But I think water in your lungs is worse.”

The tramping of heavy hooves drowned out the sound of the river. Sweetie almost thought a Stampede was heading for them. But it was only a single stallion. The forest shook as he came galloping out of the woods.

He skittered to a halt in the slippery mud as he saw the two of them sitting there.

Only now did Sweetie see how big he really was. He must have been the size of Big Mac. He shared the same colors as the colt. brown body with green hair.

The colt rolled over and puked up more water. The stallion took him ever so gently in his big hooves and hurled him over his shoulder. Carefully patting his back as he puked up the last of the river-water over his back.

”There ain't nothing wrong with trying to follow in your old mans hoof-steps son.” The stallion said, lowering his voice to something resembling normal Speech “If anything is my fault. I let my pride get in the way and i let you build that wall all by your own. I never should have done that.”

Even when speaking normally there was a rumble to his voice. But even so he spoke with a tone of utmost joy.

The older stallion carried both of the young, exhausted fillies on his broad back as he walked back up the river. Towards the origin point of the disaster and towards a home that he assured was not far from there. Home where he assures a hot meal and warm bed waited for Sweetie. It was the least he could to for the brave little mare whom had just saved his son. Sweetie could once again hear her belly rumble at the mere thought of food. And she was so tired she could faint dead away. Not to mention so wet and cold she was shivering.

She wrapped her sock-covered forelegs tight around her little body under the pretend of warming herself. But more importantly to ensure that her secret stayed covered. Fear of revealing that secret had almost made her shy away from the strangers. But the promise of a place out of the rain was enough to make her go unquestioningly with them. The ride being offered was also very nice for her acing legs. And again, the least the elder stallion could offer. As he kept reminding her.
The colt, who sat beside her, continued to cough for some length of the journey, before regaining his ability to speak and introduce himself.

He extended a hoof to his savior. Sweetie hesitated for a moment, unsure about shaking it with rain soaked and muddy socks that covered her forelegs and secret. Before carefully stretching out her left, nonmetallic hoof.

“And I'm Tree Trunk by the way.” The older stallion rumbled, only now realizing that he had, in his gratitude, yet to say that “But some call me Beaver.”

“Because” Said Branch “He can bring down trees as fast as any of those little buggers. He don't even need an ax I tell ya. He just kicks them down and drags them off to the river. He can chop the branches of the wood with his bare hooves I tell ya. And then he uses the timber to make all sorts of things...”

Sweetie looked down to the side of Mr Tree Trunk. His mark was, true to his mane, a big round log.
Sweetie thought he certainly looked like a lumberjack with his broad form and beard and all. She suspected that he got his physique from many years of carrying logs as big as his son made the out to be.

“Now, now boy. Don't you brag to much about your old man to the little lady” Mr Trunk rumbled. “If you wanna impress her, why don't you tell her a little about your own accomplishments ”

“Well ... I was just gonna say that nowdays we just use the timber to build dams. He is really good at building dams that stops the river from running to fast. That's why they call him beaver. I was gonna follow in his hoofsteps but...”

He looked down on his flank. There was no mark upon it. Sweetie recognized that look anywhere. The look of a young pony trying to get their mark. That dam had not just been his attempt to impress his father or pull his weight for the family. He had been trying to find his talent, But his attempts had backfired and failed so spectacularly it nearly cost him his life.

Sweetie could relate. So many times she and her friends had pulled the craziest stunts to find something they where good at. And every attempt had gone haywire, failed, blown up and backfired in their faces (and in some cases caused massive property damage). Yet her flank remained bare. And would perhaps remain so forever. Their last failure had not just blown up in their faces. But blown apart her world. Cold sadness washed over her again, colder than the rain. She had lost everything in that blast. Her friends, her family, Even her future mark.

Sweetie just barely managed to avoid shaking her head. She could not think about that now. And she didn't want others to think something was wrong with her. She didn't want them to think she was … different.

-:: To deflect questions :: Ask first ::-

”Well. Ma and Pa said it looked like a little leaf on a branch. So that became my name.”

True that. Unlike his father he was a rather slim little earth pony. He shared the same brown body color as his dad, but his mane and tail where a wild green similar to leaves in the spring. Which meant that when he was sitting on his father he looked a little like a branch growing out of the older stallion.

Sweetie diverted her eyes. What should she say? She didn't even know if she had a real name any more.

“Indeed” Rumbled his father. “You saved my boy and all. That was a really sweet thing to do”

-:: … Blushing sequence … ::-

“Okay.” Branch and Beaver said with one voice. Sweetie grabbed her mouth and started blushing even harder. Embarrassed that she had said that out loud.

Finally Mr Beaver had trotted all the way back to where the dam had failed. Some lanterns still illuminated the area. The river seemed a bit calmer now that it was allowed to flow freely and not filled with logs.
He made quick strides past the remains and ended up on a small path leading away from the river. It was illuminated by a row of lanterns hanging from a long cable that hung from the trees. The cables end was now dangling uselessly down by the remains of the dam. The other stretched from the river and into a small cabin. It would have been hard to spot in the rainy night since it laid dark and blackened.

When Sweetie asked what the cable was for Branch happily shared in his knowledge. Perhaps eager to prove he was goof for something.

“Well ya see. This here is the power line. We where gonna use that dam for electricity. It had a big wheel in it it that spins when the water pours through. And then that wheel spins it makes the turbine spin. Which powers up the generator. Which gives us electricity.” He sighed “Without it I guess its gonna be a dark winter.”

“Now, now my boy. Lets not think about that. Nothing is gonna brighten up this winter more than the fact that you are sill with me. Thank you again for that little miss.”

Inside the cabin waited a bowl of warm soup and a whole lot of blankets for the two young ponies to dry themselves on. Sweetie was quick to wrap herself in blankets till she was wearing them like a bushy dress, to hide the fact she refused to take of her socks. And she was even quicker to down the whole bowl of soup. So happy she was to finally get something in her empty belly that she did not even care that the "taste sensors" Analyzed and identified it as Bullion in the back of her head.

There had been two bolls smoldering on the table. One for the father and one for the son, Sweetie suspected. They had probably left the food out to go and activate the wheel in the dam and then return to a brightly lit house with food waiting for them. Looking around Sweetie could see a lot of electrical lights sharing the roof with more conventional lanterns. Unfortunately all of them remained black.

Mr Beaver was more than happy to give his bowl to Sweetie. It was clear (though he did not say it) that if it had not been for her there was the possibility he would have been coming home to two fresh soups and nopony to share them with.

While the younger ponies ate he walked around and started lighting up the lanterns. When he was done the house was quite basking in a dancing light. In it Sweetie could see that idyllic little cabin had quite the idyllic little holiday Preparation. The decoration was sparse. But everything was there.
A tree with a few presents under. A green wreath hanging like a chandelier from the center of the ceiling with a few ribbons stretching out to the walls. And the windows decorated with a few candlesticks and holiday themed curtains.

"Again. I cant thank ya enough for saving my boy, little miss." Beaver said as he lit a fire in the tiled stove "I would have been all alone if I had lost him to. He's all I have left since his ma ran away.”

"What?" said Sweetie as she put the empty bowl down. "What kind of mother would do that?"

"Ma's not the only one who left." Said Branch in a somber tone. "Everypony's left. This used to be a big Woodcutter field. There is a big sawmill not far from here. The mill still stands, but its unmanned now.

"Our family have owned that sawmill for generations. We actually used to transport the logs by the river.
But today the waterwheels that drove the bud-saws stand still."

It was many years ago, Just after Branch was born. A time when I thought my life could only go uphill. But that was also when things started happening in the forest. Now I don't want you to think it had anything to do with my boy. There were enough superstition thrown around by ponies just looking for an excuse."

He looked at Sweetie, very meaningly as he said it. As if accusing her of jumping to the conclusion he just mentioned.

"The forest has always been a mystical and dangerous place. Nopony knows exactly what might be lurking behind the next tree. We who work in it every day knows that better than anypony.

There came talk of strange creatures sighted in the woods. Some said the forest was haunted. That strange creatures lived there. At first I thought it was all just superstitious nonsense. But then ponies started coming back injured, or just went missing altogether, sometimes for days before popping up in some distant parts of the woods, saying that they had been chased. They where all saying that something had jumped at them from the shadows. and the rumors about the forest being haunted started growing with every incident."

Actually, she could. And she was not all that impressed by Mr logs little campfire ghost story. Just a few days ago she had walked through way scarier and far more dangerous woods and been attacked by wolves.

“Oh, i wish it was as simple as Timberwolves little miss. But those woodcutters that came back told of signs of ponies that sprung up from the ground itself.

“I know my boy. But The Woodcutters saw what they saw, and would not take it back. In fact it only got worse. Some began to speak of armored ponies spotted in the woods clad hoof to head in metal. Like some invasion was about to take place. But not of a foreign pony tribe a tell ya. Some said they where metal ponies. As cold and hard on the inside as they where on the outside.

"Oh yes. Some even said it was armor cold and empty. Possessed by evil spirits that had came to haunt us. Others said they where in fact living machines walking around and attacking. Some even claimed them to be aliens

“Aliens?” Sweetie stammered. Now she was actually getting afraid. She had not considered the option of that she might be an alien. And metal ponies in the woods? Where there others like her?
Where robot ponies something that lived in secret tribes. Had she come from them? How had she ended up With her family? Was she an alien planted there to infiltrate ans survey? Was she some alien orphan of mechanical lifeforms that had fallen from the sky?

"Those seeking for a reasonable explanation for the attacks said it was lunatics that had escaped from the madhouse that lies somewhere in these parts. And let me tell you that did not help. It only added to the superstition. Ponies where getting afraid there where gonna get jumped by some lunatic. Others said that it was crazy woods-ponies that where protecting their land. Maybe donning some ancient armor of their forefathers and summoning their ancestors to rise from their graves. Others simply said that it was that woods themselves sending spirit to haunt us in form of possesses armor and the very earth taking on our image to repel us for our greed. for we had cut to deeply into mother nature and she was coming to repay the debt!"

“¨Come on pa." Said branch in a dismissive manner "This isn't a campfire story-time.”

Mr Beaver cleared his throat, realizing he had taken on a very somber ghost-storytelling tone.

"Regardless, ponies started leaving the mill. Nopony wanted to risk their lives there. And when nopony dared to go into the woods to lumber – no lumber came to the mill. So Nothing was getting made - And business started to go downhill."

"Eventually it was only me and Pa left. We tried to keep the mill running. But without horsepower we couldn't do it anymore. And then Ma left too."

He put a hoof around Sweetie and began escorting her into the rest of the cabin.

"Come on. I'll show you the rest of the place. Its not much, But at least we got a working indoor bathroom. And then I can show you my room."

Branch's room was nothing special. Just an average foals room with a shelf here. A miniature table and chair there, a chest in the corner and a big bed under the window. The main feel about everything – like the rest of the house - was that everything seemed hoof-made out of wood. Either the sawmill had been producing more than just planks or his dad was as good with his hooves as he claimed. Sweetie didn't want to know if that said something about their financial state.

“Sorry about my Pa. He love telling that story. And I swear it gets more ridiculous each time. The forest is dangerous enough without somepony making stuff up.”

They jumped up and sat down in the bed, right next to the window. He patted the madras for her to sit next to him.

“Do you think your dad is lying then?” She said as she climbed into the bed, still dressed in blankets. Her legs felt to weak for her to jump into it like he did.

“No. I think there is something out there. Something scared of all the others. Towards the end everypony was saying so many things you could not tell who had actually seen anything and who had just heard it from somepony else.”

He stared out the window, into the gray and rainy night outside. Sweetie assumed it must be nighttime at least. But the world looked as gray and cold as it had during her whole journey. If the moon and all the stars where indeed shining in the sky their silver light was being filtered by the dark, rainy clouds into the same gray cold light that covered the world in daytime. If not for the great grandfather-clock in the house she would still not have been able to tell night from day. She didn’t even know which day it was. Was it still the same day as she had ran away from Ponyville? The same day as she ran away from school? The same day she chased Scoot to the school? The same day she made an impromptu lunch she never got to eat?

It all seemed like an eternity ago. Had she really not eaten anything but a bowl of soup of an eternity? That offered meal suddenly seemed insufficient. But it had at least saturated her so much that her tiredness outweighed her hunger.

She rested her elbow on the window stilt and looked out onto the rain pattering against the glass with Branch. Despite how heavy her eyes where she felt them drawn towards him. His eyes seemed so clean. Like the moonlight that failed to penetrate the cloud still reflected in his eyes.

“Well don't worry. My Pa is mighty strong.” He continued. “If any of those zombie or metal ponies came clomping in here he'll just stomp them to death. Assuming they where alive to begin with? I mean can a Zombie pony really be called alive?”

Sweetie didn't know. She didn't know if metal ponies was alive either. Maybe if they where aliens?
Either way she was to tired to contemplate.

“You know, I always wished for a friend. There aren't any other foals around here, and Pa cant afford to send me to school. That's a shame, since I would get to be with others my age then.”

Her eyelids blinked and she thought she might have nodded a second there. She leaned her head rested her head on her hoof. There was a wet “splosh” as her cheek collided with a wet sock.

“That and I also might be able to find out what I am suppose to be. since I'm clearly not meant to be a woodcutter or a dam-builder.”

“Yea, You don't have a mark either. That's something we have in common. I cant think of any other foals my age that doesn't have a mark. Everypony used to say I was a late bloomer.”

Should she tell him about the CMC? Or not. They seemed like a distant past she did not want to bring up. Thinking about it was like opening up an old wound.

“Maybe we where meant to be together. I know it sounds silly. And I don't want to be all superstitious like my Pa. But I once wished upon a star that I would meet a friend someday. And they said that if you wish hard enough. Luna might hear you and make it happen.”

Sweetie could only see the clouds out there. And she thought it was Celestia you where suppose to wright to when you wanted foals to appear.

“Then you came. When I needed it the most.” He became very sincere. He looked deep into her eyes. “You saved my life. Will you be my best friend for ever”

-:: Analyzing gesture // Interpretations ::
- A helping hoof
- Friendly gesture
- Sign of trust
- Hoofshake
- Proposing
-:: … Loading … // Proposing selected // Ruining synonyms ::
- BFF
- Special somepony ... ::-

Yes. Sweetie thought. In her sleepy state she actually wanted that. She wanted a friend who treated her like a Pony. A friend that didn't have that look in their eyes.

Maybe this was a hearts warming miracle.
Maybe she could stay here forever. Maybe she could celebrate Hearts Warming Eve together with them. They where all she wanted. Not percents or toys, but them. A family that treated her like a pony. Maybe he could actually be her special somepony.

She reached out her hoof and grabbed his. Deaf to the wet splosh her sock made on contact. Blind to that she was dirtying his bed.
Was this where they kissed under the moonlight? (as far as the gray light from outside counted as moonlight.)

-:: Initiate blushing sequence ::-

Sweetie reflexes where slow. And so where her processing capabilities. Far to late she realized she had stretched out her right hoof.
Before she could stop him. Before she do or say anything. He had pulled the sock down. The wet fabric might have shrunken and squeezed itself tight. But it still easily slid off the metal joints underneath.

Utter silence filled the room.
Even the rain seemed to have stopped its pattering against the window.

He just sat there frozen. His mouth was wide open and his eyes just as wide. Was he about to scream? Would his father come in her and stomp her to death?
Sweetie might have gasped. If not the fact she didn't draw a single breath any more. She just sat there as quiet as him (as she was sure he had just stopped breathing),
Slowly his eyes rose from her leg and began swooping over her face. His eyes, in which she could slowly see the way he looked at her change, being re-valuated, and replaced with...

-:: ... No ... ::-

“You saved my life, and you are a robot AND your gonna be my best friend forever!? This is gonna be the best hearts warming eve ever!”

“I wised for a robot toy. But this year I got something better. I got you!” He said and threw himself at her with another hug.

Sweetie tensed. He called her a toy. How else was his statement suppose to be interpreted?

He hugged her long and hard So tight that sweetie might have trouble breathing - if she needed to. He was quite strong for somepony so skinny.
Finally he let go. He just sat quiet and looked at her. His smile was the widest Sweetie had ever seen him smile. And in that moment she could not help but notice the unwashed teeth. Had she really thought about kissing that dirty mouth? There was still pieces of soup between his teeth for Pete's sake! His eyes where just as wide. And she only now noticed they where not green like his mane – but gray, gray as soot and aches. How could any light shimmer in a color so dirty?
He looked like he wanted to eat her with those eyes. He looked at her like … Like that.

Sweetie did not have time to answer before the door creaked. In a flash, Branch grabbed Her and threw the bedsheet over them both. The next second Mr Beaver's head peeked into the room.

"Well there's no need for you two two to be groomed in a single bed." Mr Beaver chuckled. "That's why brought you a little something here."

His heavy hooves made the floorboards crack as he moved into the room. Branch gestured to Sweetie to lie completely still, then he pulled the blanket down, just so that their heads became visible, to see what his pa was doing.

Mr Beaver had brought a sleeping bag and an extra pillow, which he now laid out on the floor. If sweetie had needed to draw breath she would have been holding it in. She was afraid to even move for as long as the big stallion was still in the room and her mind was completely on the fact that Branch could reveal her at any time. Finally Mr beaver turned and walked out of the room. Though he lingered in the doorway with a smile at his son.

"Now it ain't for me to decide who sleeps where. But if you want to be a real gentleman son, you let the little miss have the bed."

With that he left. But he left the door slightly opened. Sweetie could hear him move away outside, then heard the bathroom door close. Immediately she began to crawl out of bed. Her eyes set on the sleeping bag. But branch reached out a hoof and stopped her.

“Its cool that you're a robot and all. Just don't tell my pa. If he found out I don't know what he might do. Maybe smash you to pieces, thinking your one of those monsters who drove the others away.” He but his hoof over his mouth in a “But don't worry. I wont tell. It will be our little secret.”

"I don't think your like those things Pa talks about. No. You saved me. your my best friend now. you don't have to sleep on the floor."

He yawned. But made no attempts to get out of bed. instead he was making himself cozy next to her.

He smiled. And Sweetie smiled back. But inside she wanted to cry. She was gonna be forced into bed with a stranger. He was gonna cuddle up to her like a big teddy bear. And she did not dare to protest. What if she offended him? What if he called his dad? As such Sweetie found she had little choice but to cuddle with this stranger until he fell asleep.

It was not long before Branch fell asleep. His hoof wrapped around sweeties chest and his chin resting in her mane.
Sweetie could not sleep. Even though she had been dead tired she was wide awake.
Branch was drooling on her. Drooling on his new toy. His doll. His possession. He had cuddled up to her like she was a big teddy bear. Because in a way, that's what she was, wasn't it? Not a Bloodbot sent to conquer the world nor an alien offspring that had fallen from the sky. But a toy. A plaything.

Was this her true purpose? Was she gonna be just somepony's gift for the holiday? Was that why she was made?
Images played in her mind. Images of her arriving to her parents home in a nicely wrapped box. Images of her being given to Rarity on a Hearts Warming Eve many many years ago. Not as a sibling. But as a Toy. A toy sister.
Sweetie had seen those little pony dolls in shopping malls. Little plushies in the shape of lifelike foals that fillies played mother with. Never could she have imagined that she was so closely related to them.

All the things she and Rarity had done together. Was all those times just playtime’s? Was It all just Rarity playing sister with her super advanced little toy? And then Rarity had grown up and become to old for her toy. She became self centered and spoiled and started to shun her toy. Eventually she moved away. And the doll was left alone with the parents. At least for a time. Then they decided to drop her of with Rarity, Drop her off with all the other of Rarity's things. And then went on their way to where-ever. They had cleared of their house of their only daughters old things – along with her toy. Sweetie had known that all those bags they dropped of was Rarity's things. She had just never believed she was part of the luggage.

-:: Sadness levels rising ::-

The knot tightened so hard in Sweeties chest that it hurt. Even though she was dead tiered her thoughts kept her awake.

How quickly her dream of finding a new family had shattered. She had been so happy to meet them, so happy to see somepony treating her like a pony, somepony without that look in their eyes. And in one fell swoop it had been taken away. She had only just met this colt and now he where not gonna treat her like a pony any more. His father might – for a time.
He had said to keep her secret a secret. Otherwise his dad – ever fearful of the mechanical monsters in the forest – would stomp her to pieces.

But she knew that the secret could not last forever. Eventually it would come out.
She could not stay. Not with threats like that hanging over her. Not with somepony who where gonna treat her like a toy. Not with somepony looking at her like … that.

Branch snored into her ear. It had been easy enough to convince him she was asleep. All she had to do was shut her eyes and not breathe. His father had left the door slightly ajar and had, to her despair, peeked into the room many times to watch the sleep. But finally the lights outside the room where blown out and she heard him climb into bed. He snored louder than his son. And if it wasn't for everything already keeping her awake, then father and son snoring like a sawmill would certainly have done the trick. When she was convinced he slept deep enough she carefully removed his hoof from her chest and climbed out of the bed.

Her socks had been left to dry by the end of the bed. She donned them and carefully sneaked out into the hall.

She sneaked into the bathroom and looked the door. She opened the window. It was small, but big enough for her to fit through. The cold wind smashed her in the face. Almost tempting her to go back to the warm bed. But she knew she could not stay. If there where truly some metal ponies lurking in these woods, she had to find them. She had to ask them if they where her real family, and why they had sent her away. She had to know what she was. Because she simply could not be a doll.

But before she ventured out she took one last look back. At the toilet. She had not intended using it. But she might as well, else she was gonna have to do it in the forest.

Branch awoke to the sound of rain against his bedroom window. It had thankfully been a dreamless night for him. But as his mind restarted the events of yesterday where coming back to him.
The sense of pride that had come with the finished dam. The crushing defeat when it failed. The horror of being washed away by the river. The feeling of drowning.

His hoof grabbed after her. His source of comfort. The one who had saved him. The snow white Filly that appeared out of nowhere like a guardian angel, and pulled him from the ice cold river.
It was thanks to her that these things had not become him as much as they should. And he knew that her presence had protected her from nightmares. Was that perhaps one of her powers
Had she come from the forest? Was she one of the strange machines that his dad always talked about? Where they truly ancient guardians of the forest? Was she a mechanical spirit watching over them? Had she just done her duty as a guardian? Or had she perhaps come to be his friend? He would like that.

He reached out his hoof and continued to search for his angel, but he only grabbed empty air. Worried for the fist time since he saw her he sat up, but found nothing but an empty blanket beside him.

He quickly got out of bed and searched the house, finding the toilet occupied. After waiting for what seemed like an eternity he started to knock on the door. Receiving no answer.

He then went to tell his pa, and asked about her behavior. His pa laughed and told him that he had to respect a mares privacy. Mares always took long time in the bathroom. This his pa had learned from his ma.

Branch went back to his room as his pa went out in the rain to chop some wood with his bare hooves. Eventually Branch had to pee. But the bathroom was still occupied. Impatiently he started knocking and yelling out for her to open up less he was gonna pee himself.
That's when his father came back inside with a worried face.

Worry filled them bout. Now even his father started banging and yelling at the door. and when that yearned no more avail Branch followed his father out in the rain to the open window. With his pa's help he climbed through the window, into the shockingly empty bathroom, and (After some much needed use of the toilet himself) unlock the bathroom door.

"I... I don't know son. Tell me she did not go into the forest!” His father said with dread. “Why would she do that? why would she just up and leave?”

Had she gone back to the forest? Had she returned to her own kin? He wanted to ask Pa this, but he had promised to keep it a secret. Still... She could have said something. Had he been to intrusive?

“Its my fault is it not?” Branch said and hung his head. "Because i did not want to sleep alone. I...I wanted us to sleep together. I just wanted to hold her in case I got nightmares about that river. Then maybe she could save me again.”

"I just wanted a friend. I did not scare her away did I?” He said with tears in his eyes.

His pa didn't know what to say. But the father and son moment where interrupted by a sudden knock on the door.

"I'm sorry to disturb you sir." Said the stranger. His voice was smooth and had a high class attitude to it that they where unused to out here in the bushes. “We are out looking for this little filly. Have you seen her?”

He held up a photograph. Branch gasped when he saw the familiar white filly with a purple mane and those joyful green eyes.

"If you know anything about this little mare then tell me. It is important that we find her immediately."

Sweetie Bot - A Heart's Warming Tale

by Grimweird

Chapter 6: The Drowning Doll