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// Chapter 2: On the trail 
// Story: A Cranky Doodle Journey 
// by BurningBright 
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Less that five hours into his journey and Cranky was already beginning to debate the wisdom of his decision. He had barely made it five miles when the heavens opened up above him, the wind howling and lightning crashing, really the weather team must have been giving it the works up there. With a frustrated groan he cursed his own foolishness. Why hadn’t he at least checked the weather schedule with the pegasus teams before he headed out. Then he remembered, he wasn’t in the city or even a village anymore, the weather out here did whatever it wanted. He gave a shudder at the thought, weather acting on its own? Unnatural was what it was.
Oh well there was no use crying over spilled milk, wherever she was now she was waiting for him to find her, and find her he would.

Ignoring the biting wind and rain and pondering why the Tartarus he hadn’t picked up a better cloak he looked ahead. Pouring his energy into keeping moving, after all stillness meant coldness. Reaching into his saddlebags he fished out a by now slightly soggy cream cheese, daisy, and buttercup sandwich , it tasted terrible but if he was going to do this he’d need all the strength he could get. So he idly swallowed it down as he walked . His hooves were feeling like they were slipping half a step back for every step he took but even half a step at a time was a half step closer to her, well with any luck it was. 

The thought of that was enough to put a spring back in his step, he imagined her expression when she realised how determined he was to keep her close. He thought of her that night at the gala, how beautiful she looked, yet somehow sad, trapped like a bird in a cage, that was the night he fell in love. The night he swore to free her from that no matter what it took. The thing he wanted most in the world was to see her genuine smile again. Like sunshine from behind a cloud.

That thought spurred him on more than anything else, it put a smile on his face, and once his mouth was sufficiently sandwich free he even managed to whistle (no mean feat for a donkey I can assure you) despite the rain, and in spite of the bitter cold he was on his way. The tune they had danced to first as a couple echoed around the woods as he thought of the Jenny of his dreams. The darkness somehow seeming more oppressive as he reached his first dilemma of the day. The road ahead forked sharply and the signs were too heavily weathered to really be all that legible in the dark. 

“well” said cranky to himself, “fate aint keeping us apart so I guess I’ll put my faith in lady luck, heads left, tails right.”
Much scrabbling in the far deeper and much thicker than it appeared mud and the loss of a twenty bit coin later Cranky decided lady luck was a complete and utter sadistic diamond dog of the female variant and took the fork that leaned to the right. After all it had to go somewhere at some point in time.

Two hours of wandering blindly down what could be called a path by only the most generous of terms he was prepared to reconsider that opinion. He hadn’t seen a single pony all day and there wasn’t a sign of civilisation to be seen for miles. From a hilltop he searched hoping desperately to see a place to sleep, an inn, a barn, hay at this point in time he’d even settle for a sufficiently dry rock to pitch his tent under, bits didn’t grow on trees after all, and he had no plans to throw any more away. Intentionally or not he had just lost a chunk of his travelling budget that would have been better spent on shelter for the night.

Maybe he should have been paying closer attention to the slippery road ahead, if he had maybe he wouldn’t have learned the hard way that if he thought the road was slippery then he really didn’t want to step off the path. 
He scrabbled desperately to regain his hoofing as he slid faster and faster down the muddy banks, but he was going too fast, the saddlebags and tent really didn’t help there either as the banks disappeared under him into a sheer drop. 

Next thing he knew there was a gigantic splash, and everything was cold, the saddlebags were hauling him down as he struggled to tread water and make for the shore. But the packs were heavy and the banks were steep and slippery, he simply couldn't get a grip. The current really wasn’t helping him much either, pushing him under every time he surfaced. In desperation he kicked off the tent, and his saddlebags as the current dragged him along.

Then just as he gave up hope something landed in the water right beside him, it looked like a lifering. Fervently thanking lady luck for being so forgiving of his earlier rudeness he grabbed a hold and clung on desperately. As he got hauled in he noticed a strange looking riverboat , then a massive hoof reached from the deck and hauled him free of the water. He suddenly found himself confronted by a giant of a stallion with a fiery handlebar moustache that was practically a work of art.

"Well Brica m'dear" the apparition boomed with a hearty chuckle. "This has to be the strangest looking fish I've ever caught"

"Now you pack that in Brac" came a kindly voice from behind Crankys rescuer. "The poor dear looks arf drowned as 'tis wi'out being subjected to yer terrible jokes ter top it off. Yew just get 'im below decks an' dried off, I'll pop the kettle on and get a proper fire going on the stove." 

The last thing Cranky remembered that night was being lifted, not unkindly over the huge Stallions shoulders and carried downstairs, after that he was too exhausted to remember much or even care.