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// The Foal in the Boat 
// Story: The Clouds of the Ocean 
// by Sea Foam 
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  	   It’s my earliest memory; looking up to see the shocked expression on his face from the boat I was confined in. I was afraid when he reached for me. As I scampered to the far side of the boat in fear of the unfamiliarity, he spoke in the most comforting voice I had ever heard.
“It’s alright little pegasus, I won’t hurt you. Looks like you need somepony to take care of you.” He said, smiling at me as his face obstructed the blue, canvas like sky and white, subtle brush stroke clouds that spread across the canvas.

He put his head down in the boat, so I could look in his dark purple eyes. The mystifying orbs looked down at me as I gazed into the mixed swirl of purple and maroon vortexes. I remember reaching out with my hoof; trying to touch the dark green coat of his face, and falling over on my front. After I recovered myself from the failure of my undeveloped motor skills, I reached for his face again. This time my hoof touched the tip of his muzzle. He gave me a warm smile as I let out a yawn and curled up in a ball, falling asleep as I lost interest in investigating the anomaly.

“Ha-ha,” He laughed, “Come-on, you can come live with me.”

Next thing I knew, he had picked me up from the skin on the back of my neck with his mouth, and swung me over to rest on his back. I can’t explain why, but I felt secure as the motion of his trotting bounced me up and down on his back as I watched the brown and cream red of his short tail bounce in front of me. I didn’t know where the strange being was taking me, but I didn’t feel afraid of him anymore. 

We traveled until the sky grew dark and small, white stars began to dot the gloomy blue heavens above us. The being took me off his back and put me on the ground. I examined my new surroundings; digging at the ground with my hoof, putting my face close to a plant, of which there was very little, so I could smell it. I looked back up at the pony to see that, while I was investigating the foliage, he had created a whipping, radiant shape of light that illuminated the radius of our makeshift campsite. He sat in front of the fire and smiled back at me. I don’t know whether it was the warmth of the fire or his smile that brought me to sit next to him, but when I did he began to talk to me. 

“Are you hungry?” He asked as he pulled a ball of cheese out from a bag around his back. “I wasn’t expecting to find a foal my way back home, but you can have half of my food if you’d like.” He tore the ball of cheese down the middle, and gave half to me. Bringing the milky white semi-circle to my muzzle, I sniffed it and, after determining that it was safe to eat, I violently wolfed the food down.  

“Wow, I guess you were hungry.” He said as he bit into his own ration of cheese. As he stared into the fire, eating his food, I looked to my right at the strange design on his flank. The design was in the shape of, what looked like an ordinary, brown satchel. I looked down at my own flank to see if I had anything that resembled the bag, and was disappointed to see that it was blank. 

Curiously, I reached out my hoof and rubbed it against the picture on his flank, almost as if I was trying to peel it off. 

(I suppose at one time or another during our foal-hood, assuming a pony is reading this, we all have that fascination with cutie marks. Even if we don’t know our talent; we all strive to have a cutie mark so we can have the privilege of feeling like we have a place in the world, or something we can contribute to and alongside our fellow pony. 
It makes me wonder whether other species have a similar system in their genetics. Do dragons or griffons have an indication of their talent, or is it more of a do what you can thing? I just wonder why only certain equine species have this marking and what makes ponies, in particular, so special.)

This must have gotten his attention as he jumped a little from the sudden scratching, and peered down at me with a confused look. I stopped trying to rub his skin off, and looked down at my own flank again, trying in my own way, to get an explanation for my blank flank. He seemed to understand because he pointed to the bag on his flank and said,
“That’s a cutie mark; it’s not a sticker you can peel off. It appears once you find your special talent; something that only you, and nopony else can do. You’ll get yours someday; you just have to be patient.” He fell on to his back with a sigh. “Celestia knows I wasn’t patient.”

I climbed up on his stomach and curled into a ball, beginning to fall asleep at the soft motion of his breathing. His hoof pet me gently down the length of my mane as he said, 
“You need a name, don’t you?”
The mention of a name cause me to lift my head up, expecting to see his dark purple eyes again, but all I saw was the bottom of his muzzle as he lay on the ground, gazing up at the stars. He sat up just as I was about to put my head back down, nearly launching me in the fire as he did. I lay upside down on the ground in front of him, slightly annoyed at the unexpected propulsion. Correcting myself, I looked up at him heatedly, as he laughed. 

“Whoops, sorry there little guy.” He said as he brought his face closer to me. “I just wanted to find a fitting name for you.”  The anger in my eyes was replaced by an awkward look from how he was now inspecting me. He moved his head around me, as if searching for a nameplate like I was a lost dog. His eyes rested at a spot on my face, just under the corner of my eye. He licked his hoof and rubbed the spot on my face that his eyes were fixated on. 
“Huh? That’s not dirt?” He said in almost disbelief. “Those lines must be a birthmark or something.”
I strained my eyes to see what had made him so curious, but I quickly realized that I wouldn’t be able to see any part of my face.

Having enough of being examined, I stood up on all four hooves; which even surprised me, as it was something I didn’t even realize I had the power to accomplish. I smiled at my achievement, looking down at the four mint green colored pillars that suspended me in the air, away from the dirt that my flank had become so accustomed to being pressed against. I looked up at the being, to see if he was as awed as I was in my triumph, but he seemed almost lost in thought.
“So you can stand. You can’t be that young then.” He said, rubbing his hoof against his neck. 

Knowing that it must take more than simply standing to impress him, I stuck my hoof out in front of me, trying to walk. My legs, obviously unprepared for such a persistent feat wobbled under me, and I fell to the ground again. The being watched me as I repeatedly fell over.   
“Name….name.” He said, almost talking to himself now. “You’ve got a mint green color. I could call you minty… No, that’s awful.”

At this point I had given up trying to impress him so I sat at his side, unsatisfied with myself. For whatever reason I seemed to desire his admiration, but I failed in achieving it.

He looked behind me in a funny way. I turned my head over my shoulder to see what it was that caught his attention, but all I saw was my tail swishing across the ground. Without saying anything, he put his hoof down on my tail to stop it. After a few seconds he brought it back up, and my tail continued waving around.
“You’ve got one hyperactive tail there.” He said, looking almost amused. “Not to mention long.” 

I looked back once more to examine my own tail. In comparison to his, it was long. I gave a proud smile at my tail; thinking that while he may be able to walk, I have the longer tail. Without really meaning to, I brought my tail up to my muzzle, and began to chew on it. The being laughed at this as he lay back on the ground, saying,
“You’re one weird little pony, you know that?”
Pony? Is that what I was? A pony? Then that must mean that he was a pony too. We looked about the same, with the exception that I had small wings and he didn’t; something I still had no explanation for. So we were ponies. 

My tail dropped from my mouth as I gave a loud yawn. The events of the night caused me to become abruptly exhausted. Slowly, I moved myself to the base of the pony, and curled into a ball, burrowing myself in his side. He wrapped his forearm around me and said, 
“Who would throw somepony as young as you to the ocean? You’re an amazing little pony… If only I had a name for you.”

I nestled closer to the pony, feeling comfortable and happy as his forearm secured me against him. Beginning to drift away to the crackling sound of the fire beside us, the pony’s voice rang through my ears one last time for the night.
“I think I want to call you Sea Foam; like the clouds of the ocean. Do you like that….Sea Foam?”
I flicked my tail over the two of us in response. He gave a small laugh and said,
“I’m glad you like it. Goodnight Sea Foam.”
With that, he held me tighter as the sound of the fire lulled us to sleep.