Looking up, Tarnish saw the stars overhead. They twinkled and the majesty of the night sky made him forget about his troubles for a moment. His whole body ached with bone weary exhaustion. Ahead, with only moonlight to illuminate his way, he saw a hillock with a gnarled oak growing out of the top of it. The oak’s roots formed a cage of sorts around the massive mound of earth. Tarnish thought that there might be a place to tuck himself into with all of those roots.
Tarnish left the road to have a look. On the side away from the road, there was a small entrance, a burrow or a cave. He looked around, feeling exhausted, and wondered if this might be a good place to sleep.
He was traveling along the southern edge of the Everfree and this was a dangerous place to sleep in the open. The entrance was small and temping. He would have to crawl inside. It would keep large predatory things out and Tarnish reasoned that he would be safe.
Whimpering with fear, he dropped down to his belly and crawled inside. It was dark in here, there was no moonlight, and Tarnish struggled to make light with his horn. As he crawled in a little farther, the ground gave out beneath him.
Tarnish slammed into a pile of stones with terrific force, knocking the wind out of himself. He groaned, wondered if anything was broken, and he almost broke down into tears down here in the darkest dark he had ever experienced. Miserable, cold, shivering, hungry, and now trapped down in a hole.
This day kept getting better and better.
It took a while for him to regain his composure, he sniffled in the dark, almost lapsing into sobs, but was afraid of what else might be lurking down here. Knowing he needed light, he began to concentrate. As he did so, he moved his legs, trying to see if anything was broken.
At long last, his horn flared with faint, pale light. He looked around and saw roots, rocks, and bones. Tarnish gulped. They were pony bones. They were unicorn bones. He saw that both of the unicorn’s front legs were broken. No doubt, the unicorn had probably crawled inside the hole, looking for shelter, and had fallen down. Only the unicorn had suffered bad luck and broken its legs.
There was an old pair of oilcloth canvas saddlebags, covered in dust. The brass buckles glinted in the faint light. Crawling forward, overcome with curiousity, Tarnish had himself a look. Inside of the first bag, there was nothing but dust. Whatever had been in here had rotted away.
Inside the second bag was a small mirror, made of silver, with a graceful, ornate handle. It was somehow unbroken. There was nothing else in the bag. Tarnish pulled the saddlebags away from the bones, pushed the bones aside, feeling very sorry for disturbing them, and then not knowing what else to do, he curled up so he could go to sleep. In time, as he nodded off, his horn dimmed, and then went dark.
The sounds of growling caused Tarnish to awake with a snort. He looked around, seeing nothing but darkness, fearing an attack, and then realised that he was hearing the sounds of his own stomach. With difficulty, he got his horn to light up again and he looked up above him.
With luck and effort, he thought he might be able to climb out. He strapped on his new to him saddlebags, ignored his stomach, and focused on getting out of this tomb. He waved goodbye to the unicorn, and hoped that he would not share the same fate.
Using his hooves, Tarnish boosted himself upwards. He dug his hooves into the earth, snagged them on roots, and began the arduous task of pushing himself up through the narrow passage. Bugs crawled over his skin as he worked his way up through the dangling roots. He almost fell, recovered, and then almost fell again. He wiggled and kicked, struggling to get free, until at last, he was at the top of the passage that dropped straight down.
He could see sunlight ahead and he crawled on his belly, anxious to be above ground.
Birds were chirping. Butterflies flew. The sun was bright overhead. And Tarnish was so hungry that he was eating grass to fill his belly. It was the most degrading thing that had happened to Tarnish so far. Today.
Today was an important distinction, or so Tarnish believed.
The grass was still wet with dew, but it did little to slake Tarnish’s terrible thirst. His pelt was crusted over and matted. He was filthy, covered in dried mud, bugs were still crawling among the dirt clods caked to his pelt, and no doubt, Tarnish still stunk.
But he was alive, even if he was eating grass, he was still alive. And being alive felt pretty good. He tore free a mouthful of grass and gobbled down a bit of dirt that clung to the roots. He didn’t care. He ripped free another bite and gnawed upon the tough grass fronds.
As he chewed, Tarnish lifted his head and had a look around, trying to keep himself safe. The road was his best bet. It followed the southern edge of the Everfree for a while, and Tarnish knew that it then headed south. South was the Froggy Bottom Bogg and beyond that was the badlands.
He didn’t have a lot of options. If he took the road in the other direction, it led back to Ponyville. If he went north, he would leave the road and go into the Everfree. There was on the road and whatever lay south.
Dodge City was south, if one walked far enough. Dodge City was a place full of rough and tumble types, desperadoes, gamblers, miners, it was less than ideal, but it had to be a better place than Ponyville.
Tarnish decided that he would go south.