To say it had been a rough night would be a vast understatement. I couldn’t recall a longer, colder, or more miserable night in my entire life. By the time that the sun rose high enough to bring morning with it, even the fire’s embers had long since frozen over.
Staying here simply wasn’t an option. Whatever rapport I garnered with Trixie evaporated last night—I still didn't entirely know why. The only way I could find my way back to Ponyville would be to get up and move, but my body refused. My cold, numb legs used what little energy they had left shivering in vain. I dared not even roll to one side or the other, lest I allow the last mote of heat to escape from underneath me.
“What’re you, a dog?”
I raised my head at the derisive voice to find Trixie stepping out from her shelter. Catching in my throat, my voice refused to be heard. Instead, I just rested my head again on my forelegs.
“Don’t think that begging on my stoop and looking pathetic will tug at my heartstrings,” Trixie said. My ear twitched, following the sounds of her hoofsteps on stone. “I see you used the last of my wood, too.” This time, her voice was further away. The echoing of her steps drew quieter until they could no longer be heard.
For some reason, the silence made me lonely. I suppose that, for whatever it was worth, Trixie was the only pony I knew here. Without her, I found myself once more completely alone. Without her, I didn’t know how to get home.
I breathed out a long sigh as I raised my head. My numb forelegs barely obeyed my will, stumbling underneath me. They shook and buckled, sending me back to the ground before I’d even managed to sit up.
It was no use. What little strength saw me through the night was gone. Huddling myself up, I shivered there on the ground. It was then that I noticed it. Outside of the relative shelter of this alleyway, a thick blanket of snow covered the streets.
I’m in trouble. At this rate I’ll end up in the hospital, or worse…
Again, I pulled my legs underneath myself, shivering and shaking like a leaf in a storm. This time I managed to lock my knees and sit up. I felt what little heat I’d managed to keep seep away in the icy air.
I can do this.
I leaned forward, pushing myself up. My legs slipped away from me, and I crashed back down to the hard, filthy ground. That was it. That was all I had, and I couldn’t even get up, let alone get myself out of this horrible situation.
This fiasco spiraled so far out of control that now the only real solution was to get to a hospital before I turned into a ponysicle. No matter how angry she might have been at me, surely Trixie would at least get me to a hospital or call for a cart, right? Sweeping my head, I looked as far down either side of the alley as I could. Just where did Trixie go, anyway?
I shivered on the filthy ground for several minutes before Trixie finally returned, a pair of wooden pallets floating in her aura. She sat the pallets against a wall before breaking some planks off of one, placing them into the barrel. Utilizing her horn, she sent a shower of sparks into the barrel, igniting the wood and starting a fire.
“There,” Trixie said, stepping back. Then, she turned to look at me. “You don’t have a single bit of common sense, do you?” When I didn’t reply, she shook her head, rolling her eyes. “Any place would be better to bed down for the night than right out in the middle of the alley.”
“Th-thank—thank you,” I managed to choke out. The heat of the fire failed to really banish the cold, but it did usher in a tingly sort of feeling in my side. Though, any feeling at all outside of numbness and cold was a decidedly fantastic improvement.
“I-I think I may n-n-need to go to th-the hospital,” I said, my voice leading a puff of fog.
Trixie just stared back at me. “What? Is your tail frostbitten?” she said, her voice laced with disdain.
I shook my head. “I can’t… I can’t get up.”
I could almost hear Trixie’s eyes roll. “If you think I’m going to carry your pampered flank all the way to the emergency room, you’ve got another thing coming,” Trixie said.
“P-please,” I choked out, my voice raw and desperate.
Instead of replying, Trixie just marched off into her disgusting, little hovel. She exited a moment later, a small bag trailing behind her in a pink aura. She set the bag in between my forelegs before sitting near the fire.
Curiosity getting the better of me, I nudged the bag open and my nose filled with a stale scent of sweetened bread. There, at the bottom of the bag, were just a few muffins, exactly the same as the one I ate last night. I looked back up at Trixie, and seeing her by the fire brought my attention to the fact that I was actually starting to warm up. “T-Trixie... I, I don’t…”
Trixie never looked away from the entrancing dance of the flames. “I’m not going to carry you, so get your strength up.”
I looked into the bag and barely resisted the desperate urge to gorge myself. “What about you?”
“I’m fine,” was Trixie’s simple reply. After a moment, the distinct sound of her churning stomach echoed over the crackle of the fire. She didn't so much as flinch. “I’m used to being hungry.”
That wouldn’t do at all. I reached into the bag with my magic, wrapping a muffin in a soft, blue glow. Despite being only a muffin, it felt heavier than a bowling ball. I barely managed to pull the brown lump from the bag when a blue hoof swatted it right back in. Looking up, I found Trixie glowering down at me.
“Eat,” she said to me with little room in her voice for argument. “I’d much rather go hungry than have to drag your sorry flank halfway across Baltimare because you don't have what it takes to last a single night on your own.”
I glared up at her, though, given my absolutely dreadful state, I couldn’t imagine it impacted Trixie in the slightest. With little other choice, I dipped my muzzle into the sack. Taking a hardened muffin between my teeth, I lost complete control of myself. They may have been days-old muffins, improperly baked and unevenly cooked, but to my starving pallet, they tasted as decadent as any truffle.
The next thing I knew, the only thing left before me was the paper bag, damp with oil from the muffins and my own saliva. I dared not look up at Trixie. How could I act so unladylike in front of another pony? I felt beyond mortified.
Trixie didn’t say anything. Instead, she went back over to the barrel, feeding more splintery wood to the ravenous flames. Again I pulled my legs beneath me, though, this time, the chilly numbness was replaced with a stinging, rubbery pain. At least I could actually manage to stand, if only just.
Walking proved to be a nearly insurmountable task. A few shuffling steps were all I could manage before collapsing on my flank next to Trixie. Although I managed to at least somewhat confront her, I found myself at a loss of what to say. Surely my debt to her only continued to increase, but at the same time the way she kept treating me felt nothing less than an insult.
“T-Trixie, I—”
“I’ve reconsidered,” Trixie interrupted me, her gaze never leaving the enthralling flicker of the fire.
I shook my head. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t think I quite understand you, darling.”
Trixie breathed a long breath in, letting it out with a sigh. “You said that if I paid your way back to Ponyville, then you would give me enough bits to leave this nightmare. I’ll do it.”
My heart faltered. “Really?” The word escaped my lips without a thought.
“I’m fed up, living like this. I need a change before…” Trixie shook her head. “I need a change.”
I placed my hoof on hers. “You can trust me,” I said, doing my best to try to catch her eyes.
She pulled her hoof away, never making eye contact with me. “I don’t. I just don't have any other choice than to play along.”
I withdrew my hoof. “Trixie, I’m not going to betray you.”
Getting to her hooves, she scoffed. “You’d be the first.”
As I stared at the flames searching for words, sounds of her hooves on the stone echoed in my ears. Surely she was simply being hyperbolic, right? I heard the distinct sound of her pulling the drape away from her hovel.
A rush of icy wind accompanied a flying object arcing over my shoulder. I flinched away, only to calm down as I realized it was just a cardboard box, folded and crushed, being tossed into the fire.
I blinked, slowly realizing just what it was Trixie had thrown in the fire.
Turning around, I discovered Trixie standing where her hovel used to be. The tarp that once covered the box now adorned Trixie's body as a gauche cloak. Hideous didn’t even begin to describe the affront to fashion draped over Trixie.
I pointed a hoof at her. “Please tell me you don't actually intend to wear that.”
Utilizing a length of twine, Trixie secured Equestria’s ugliest cloak around her shoulders. “You got a better way for me to get around without being recognized?” With a flick of pink magic, the hood fell over her head.
I shook my head. “No. I simply cannot abide you wearing something so… so…”
“Awful.” Trixie filled in the word I dared not speak. “It’s not like I have anything else to wear.”
“Well, you certainly can’t wear that.”
Trixie stepped over, again sitting by the fire. “I don’t have a choice.”
Forcing myself to take a breath to calm down, I lamented the fact that my strength had yet to recover enough for me to do at least something with that dreary drapery. The only recourse left to me was to try to convince her to remove it. “Trixie, I understand that you don’t want to be recognized, but surely there is something less… drastic that you can do.”
“What would you have me do? Wear that paper sack over my head?” she asked me, pointing to the discarded bag that once held the misshapen muffins.
I paused a moment. “Well…”
“You’re not supposed to consider it! I was being facetious.” Trixie’s aura snatched up the offending sack, feeding it to the flames. “I’m wearing this. Deal with it.”
I huffed. If only I had the strength, I might have been able to use my magic to do something with that affront to refined tastes everywhere. Alas, like much of the rest of my situation, this wasn’t something I could do anything about. “Rest assured, just as soon as we get back to the boutique, we’ll remedy this… situation,” I said, motioning towards that ratty garb.
“Speaking of getting you home,” Trixie said, as she rose to her hooves. “We need to make sure we make it to that train on time.”
My gaze cast out to the snow-covered streets, only then starting to receive the morning sun’s first kiss. “Surely a few more moments by the fire couldn’t hurt,” I politely suggested.
“I’m not waiting.” Trixie nosed my flank, urging me to get up. “Come on.”
I gave a sigh as Trixie started down the alley, in the opposite direction of the street. All I have to do is get on that train, I reminded myself. Once I’ve made it that far, I’ll practically be home and finally free of this frozen desolation. “All right, all right. I’m coming,” I relented, stumbling after Trixie on weak and weary legs.
“Keep up the pace,” Trixie admonished as she looked over her shoulder at me. “It’ll help keep you warm.”
Instead of walking through the avenues lined with homes and storefronts, Trixie led me through a series of alleys, only rarely passing by the main street. Not that I was complaining. The tall buildings gathered all the snow, leaving these alleys fairly dry. If only they weren’t lined with garbage and the occasional shanty.
It made my stomach turn just seeing these hovels and the dirty, desperate ponies living in them. I had come to present my newest creations to add just a bit of flair to the regal and pomp fashion adorning those shops out on the pristine avenues. Even the tattered and torn dress I threw away last night would be an improvement here.
Licking my lips, I found my throat surprisingly dry. “Why are there so many ponies out here living like… like this?”
“It’s not that many,” Trixie replied, making another seemingly random turn to lead us down yet another blind alley. “A few dozen at most.”
“Okay then,” I said, a bit of ire lacing my voice, “why are these ‘few dozen’ ponies living out here?”
“They don’t have any other place to go. Why else would they live out in the cold?” Trixie stopped, pulling her hood back. She put her nose in the air, sniffing. “Do you smell that?”
I sampled the air and wished I hadn’t. The only scents to grace my nose were those of rotting garbage and a caustic smell of squalor. My hoof covered my nose as I shook my head.
Before I could respond properly, Trixie took off. I struggled to keep up with her, even though she moved at little more than a trot. As we turned down a couple of alleys, something finally did reach my nose above the repugnant odors permeating the alleyways: the undeniable scent of fresh-baked dough. Even though I’d just eaten, my mouth watered at the intoxicating aroma.
Turning another corner, Trixie stopped in her tracks and flung her hood up. “Looks like we’re too late for breakfast,” she said disdainfully.
Walking up alongside her, I saw several ponies gathered around a dumpster sitting just outside the back door to a bakery. A Pegasus even hovered above the receptacle, rooting around in the filth. My stomach soured as a horrific realization washed over me. “Please tell me this isn’t where those muffins came from.”
“No, the muffin fairy brought them to me,” Trixie sardonically said as she lowered her head. “Let’s just get to that train.”
I heard her stomach protest again as we trudged by the bickering ponies. Just then, a rather sizable portion of a loaf of bread flew free from the horde at the dumpster, landing right at my hooves. My instinct was to recoil and give the fetid portion a wide berth, however, a glance up at Trixie made me reconsider. I couldn’t offer her much in return for what she’s done for me thus far, but this…
Swallowing my doubts, I wrapped the hunk of bread in my aura. “Trixie, look,” I said, sweeping the morsel in front of her.
Instead of taking the bread, she swept around and glared at me from under her hood. “Don’t use my name!” she hissed.
I looked over to find many of the ponies looking over at us instead of rustling through the refuse. Trixie’s aura pushed mine away as she grabbed the bread and swung it towards the small crowd. “Here,” she said, tossing it at the crowd. They quickly turned their attention to the food.
The distraction allowed Trixie and me to slink away. Just as soon as the dumpster was out of sight, I hurried to make amends. “Tri—er…” I cleared my throat. “Darling, don’t you think that you may be overreacting just a bit?”
Trixie scoffed. “Like you would know.”
I opened my mouth to retort, but managed to keep myself from making another disastrous misstep. With a sigh, I resigned. “I’m sorry. I-I wasn’t thinking.”
She didn’t acknowledge my apology. Instead, her march continued as the endless alleyways finally opened up to a large, bustling square. The morning sun stung my eyes as I exited the dingy alleys and stepped into the fresh, cold snow. Out here, the wind blew cold, even colder than the shadows of the alleyway. I shivered as I felt a strong desire for so much as a scarf, let alone boots to protect my delicate hooves from the snow.
“The train’s arriving,” Trixie said, trotting towards the familiar platform of the train station. Sure enough, the locomotive creeped into the station, letting out a hiss as it came to a full stop.
I almost couldn’t believe it. I was finally going home. A smile graced my lips as I followed after Trixie. Slipping and nearly falling, I raced up the steps and alongside Trixie as she approached the ticketmaster. My smile left me as I found the same pony from before lazily running the booth.
“Two tickets to Ponyville,” Trixie said, producing a stack of bits from underneath that hideous cloak.
The stallion never looked up. He swept the bits from the counter and placed two tickets in their place. The tickets glowed pink, and one went into Trixie’s cloak while the other floated before me, a shining beacon of hope. This was literally my ticket home.
With too little fanfare, I took the ticket in my own aura. “I-I can’t thank you enough for this.” Despite the filthy garment covering her, I just had to wrap Trixie up in a hug. “You really saved me.”
“I don’t need your thanks,” Trixie said, pushing me away and stepping toward the train. “I need your bits.”
Even Trixie’s dour attitude couldn’t spoil my elation. “Believe me, I’ll not be forgetting this anytime soon.”