Chapter 5 - Felicity
Chapter 5
- Felicity
We lay there at the zenith of a small hill, lush green meadows spanning as far as the eye can see. A willow tree above provides shade from the bright noon sun as its branches sway in the crisp breeze. Just me and the squirrels and the bunnies and the tiny sparrows with their sweet little song, relaxing on a breezy mid-September day. As I lay there feeding the critters from a saddleside satchel, the white clouds above paint pictures in the sapphire sky like an airborne art convention. The aroma of sweet cinnamon drifts by on a wind, whispering of fresh baked pastries.
My snout quivers slightly at the scent, stirring me from my dream. I sit up yawning, rubbing my sleepy eyes. As they adjust to the blurred surroundings, memory of the previous night begins to return; everything from the traumatic fall to the gentle caress of the kind human's hand. It's all so much to take in, like a nonsensical dream. Yet this can't be a dream... I know what a dream feels like. I was just dreaming a minute ago and that felt completely different. 'I still have no idea where I am,' I sigh thinking to myself, 'well at least I have somewhere to stay.'
He was sleeping now, the human, his chest rising and falling with his steady breathing. It had been so scary at first, when he was yelling at me. But then it was like he just melted, feeding me and dressing my injuries. I nuzzle up against his arm, just lying there for a few minutes, listening to the strange array of noises drifting in through the open window. But then the scent of cinnamon returns and my tummy begins to rumble. Whatever the neighbors are baking smells delicious.
Hungry, I trot up the bed and whimper softly next to his ear. But he just grumbles inaudibly and rolls over, pinning my wing under his arm. Luckily he's not very heavy, so I'm able to free my wing. With the human asleep, I decide to find my own food. I make a quick stop at the washroom to clean up and fix my mane, the morning routine somehow hardwired into my memory from repetition in a previous life.
The stairs look different in the sunlight, a large arching window allowing the wintery rays inside. I make my way downstairs, nose to the ground, sniffing for something to eat. Up on the counter, I spot a large bowl with yellowing bananas and fresh apples, out of reach. They're way too high to jump to, but then I see the trash can. If I could just leap from there onto the counter, I could get an apple. 'But it would be dangerous, Fluttershy,' I tell myself, 'Don't do it, you're going to get hurt.' My tummy grumbles again and I ignore the voice inside my head, cautiously hopping onto the lid of the trash can. It wobbles, and I quickly jump to the countertop, causing the can to fall over. A whimper escapes my lips as it hits the ground with a crash. Its contents pour out, shards of glass bottles and half-finished chip bags strewn across the floor. 'Oh no... I hope he won't get upset. I'll clean it up after,' I think to myself, hoping he didn't wake up from the noise.
On the bright side, at least I can get my apple now. I trot across the counter top, towards the bowl just past the sink. I walk slowly, against the wall as I cross the sink basin, trying my best not to fall in. As I sidle along the wall, my wing brushes the center handle and water begins to trickle from the faucet. The sudden dripping reminds me how thirsty I am and I lean over the edge, tongue extended to catch the drink. Reaching too far, I lose my balance, falling right into the basin with the water still on, causing my fur to get all wet. At first I enjoy the steady stream of crisp water, drinking until I'm satisfied. But when I try to escape the steep wet slope of the sink, the water turns from a welcome treat to a slippery hindrance as the faucet continues to drip. After a whole lot of effort, I manage to make my way out of the basin, shivering and soaking wet. I reach the bowl of fruit, leaving a slippery trail along the countertop. I pick the shiniest of all the apple and I try to bite into it, but my teeth just scratch the surface. Wrestling with the fruit, I slide along the counter as I try to sink my teeth inside from all angles. Too absorbed in my fight with the fruit, I lose track of where I am and I wind up sliding off the counter, still clutching the apple.
The fruit cushions my fall as I hold on for dear life, striking the ground with a hollow clack. I slip off the apple, unable to hold on as it bounces far too high to actually be a real apple. The fake fruit rolls to a stop at the wall, the shiny red paint somewhat chipped where it hit the floor.
I sniff the apple and it smells nothing like it should, confirming my suspicions that it's fake. The rumbling in my stomach returns and I whimper in defeat. I sit on the floor, hungry and wet with a huge mess on the floor. I start to trot slowly over to the pile of trash, deciding to clean it up. I pass the giant white box where the human pulled the apple from last night, and my nose begins to twitch again. I can almost smell the apple through the tall metal doors. Steely handles run from top to bottom and would be helpful if I had opposable thumbs. Instead, I resign to nudging the handles with my snout and eventually it gives way. As the doors open, a bright light shines from inside, followed by a wave of cold. I feel the refrigerated air over my still wet fur and chills run down my spine. 'Brrrr it's freezing,' I think to myself as I climb in, 'better grab the apple quick.' Shivering, I prod the fruit drawer open and spot one that looks good. After some coaxing, the apple rolls out of the fridge and onto the floor. But in my haste to escape the cold, my flank knocks into a jug of milk. The jug tips over, emptying its contents on the kitchen tile.
It's then, as I hear him coming down the stairs, that I utter my first words... "Uh oh"
--------------
It had been just like any other morning, the alarm blaring at the ungodly hour of 8:00. As usual I hit the snooze, wondering again why I would ever set it that early in the first place. I roll over and flip the pillow to the colder side, drifting back into sleep.
Exactly 5 minutes later, déjà vu would kick in, the alarm would go off again, I would hit the snooze, I would roll over, the pillow would be flipped to the colder side, and I would go back to sleep. Rinse and repeat five times and you have pretty much every morning in my life. Unless I'm with a girl. That's a completely different story for another time.
Like clockwork, probably because it was clockwork, the alarm went off five minutes later. I hit the snooze, roll over, and as I'm about to flip the pillow I hear a crash downstairs. That's when I remembered it wasn't just any other morning. I pick up the covers and when there's no sign of the pony, I throw on my clothes and hurry downstairs.
I'm greeted with two very big and very guilty eyes, her face blushing with a tear streaking down her left cheek. She's shivering too, wet from head to toe. As I take in the carnage, It's hard to believe such a small animal can make such a big mess. I want to scold her, I really do, but her eyes... they just... I can't. She casts her head down, ashamed of what she's done.
I sigh, gathering my lost sense of anger. "Bad girl," I manage in a rather pathetic attempt at yelling. I shake my head, pointing at the mess. Which is hard, because the mess is everywhere. The trash can has been tipped, its contents spread across the floor mixed with spilled milk from the open fridge. The sink is somehow running, countertop a slippery mess. A fake apple lies at the edge of the room, paint peeling from its plastic shell. And right at her feet, the reason for this all, an apple lies with a few bites taken from it. "If you were hungry you could've just asked."
She keeps her eyes towards the floor, scratching at the tile with her hoof, whimpering an apology.
I kneel down next to the pony and she recoils, "I'm not gonna hit you," I assure her, "it's ok." Her fur feels wet and she's shivering as I run my hand gently down her back. "Come on, let’s get you dried off." At least she didn't shake off the water like Skip would. The dog hated baths to begin with, but it was after the bath that was the worst. He could spray the whole bathroom with his shaking... but I still loved him no matter what. After a dip the ocean it was the cutest thing when he would be running, water flying off his body as he turned. Cute, but messy, so it's a good thing she's not a dog.
As I wrap her in a towel and dry her off, she cuddles against my neck, thankful that I didn't yell. She's just lucky that's she reminds me of Skip, otherwise, she'd be out on the street for this.
She just wanted some food, I tell myself, no need to get angry. And it could've been worse. I guess it's my fault for not leaving anything out. "We should clean this up, then I'll make you some breakfast."
10 minutes later, with a little help from an apologetic pony and with the exception of some cracked red paint, the kitchen is good as new.
As promised, I fix the pony an apple salad with her remaining fruit and pour myself a bowl of cereal. I lay the dish on the table and place the pony there too, so that I can see her as I eat. Her shy closed-mouth smile while she munches is more than enough thanks and it kinda reminds me of Cynder. Oh my god! Cynder! I totally forgot. Where's my phone?
I drop everything, (which is basically just my cereal spoon) and run towards my room. Half way up the stairs, I abruptly turn around and head back to the kitchen, peering around the bend. The pony, a bit confused, still sits on the counter happily, nom-noming on her salad. "Don't get it into any trouble," I warn her, running upstairs to look for my phone. I search my night table and rifle through my drawers with no luck. Ugh!, where is it?! It's been almost 12 hours since my last text, she probably thinks I'm blowing her off by now. I try to recollect what happened last night, but everything before my encounter with the pony is blurred behind a wall of alcoholic amnesia. I search a little more but there isn't much more to search in my room. Under the bed, behind the dresser... no luck. I better go downstairs before that little girl makes another mess.
To my relief, she's just sitting quietly on the counter, licking the plate clean with her tiny pink tongue. She spots me and blushes, pushing the plate towards me with her snout. Her legs stretch in front of her and she extends her wings as she yawns.
"You're a tired little pony, aren't you? Now where is my phone." As I begin emptying the kitchen drawers, a buzzing catches my ear. "Oh... right..." I say facepalming, it's right where I left it, charging on the table next to the keys. I let the call go to voicemail, it's a client and he's probably just a checking up on my work, and I can deal with that later. Right now, I need to make sure I'm good with Cynder.
"2 tell u the truth" her message begins "I don't usually get out too often :/ But my sister's been worried about me and she says I have to be more outgoing, so I've been trying. I just kinda freaked out last night and I'm really sorry :$ Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow night though :)"
I release a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding, "I totally get it. No hard feelings :) see U 2nite."
I hit send, relieved that I still have another chance at Cynder. Why do I care so much though? She's just another girl, right? If I was being honest with myself though, she wasn't just another girl. Everything about her whispered beautiful, from her downcast sparkling blue eyes to her shy smile and perfectly pink-tinged brown hair. As much as I don't want to fall for this girl, the truth is that I'm starting to really like her....
A different pair of sparkling blue eyes disturbs me from my thoughts as the pony looks at me, her head tilted as if to ask, 'what's wrong?'
I scratch her gently behind the ears, "oh, you wouldn't understand."
She hangs her head and whimpers an apology, rubbing her head against my hand.
How does she know I... "Maybe you do understand..." I wonder aloud, surprised by the animal's display of solace. "Do you? Do you... understand... when I talk to you?" G-d, I must crazy. I'm asking a pony if it understands English.
But to my complete surprise, she nods her head, blushing slightly. Ok, not only do I have a tiny winged horse with pink hair in my kitchen, it also understands English? What drugs am I on?! "So you... you... understand me?" I repeat, still not convinced.
Again she nods, backing away from me slowly, worry evident on her expression.
"No no, it's ok. I'm not gonna hurt you," I soothe, "but... you sure you're not just nodding?"
She shakes her head no, looking up at me with her cute little eyes. There's a definitive intelligence behind them as they sparkle.
A thousand questions swarm my thoughts, and without thinking, I practically interrogate the pony "What are you? Where are you from? How can you understand me?"
Bombarded by questions, she hides her face in her wings, whimpering.
Realizing I'd been voicing my thoughts aloud, I quickly stop asking. "Sorry," I say softly, caressing her peachyellow fur, "I'll go slower. Can you tell me where you're from?" She peeks above her wing, sobbing and teary eyed in a sight that could melt any heart.
"Oh... you don't know..." I say quietly, the truth dawning over me. She was all alone before she found me. Lost from... wherever she came from. "Don't worry, you're safe here with me."
The pony brings a hoof up to her face, wiping away her tears. She gives the tiniest of cute little smiles and nuzzles against my arm. That's another wall I'm going to have to punch some time to feel masculine.
"but you can't talk, right?" I ask, recognizing that the equine's responses were all nonverbal.
She shakes her head no and lets out a few whines, whinnies, and whimpers to prove her point.
They remind me of Skip again, and I'm brought to a sprawling white sand beach, the sun setting as the puppy chases the gulls across the frothing ocean front. The sound of his cute yips and tiny barks ring in my ears as if the dog were right here... but he's not. He's a thousand miles away with my stupid ex.
As my thoughts wander, I absent mindedly scratch behind the pony's little ears. I guess she's pretty cute though. She could never truly replace Skip, but at least for now she can cover the gap in my heart where Crystal tore out my puppy. I miss Skip so badly... as I pet the filly, I imagine that it's his soft Skippy colored fur that's beneath my hand (smooth not chunky). That's why we had named him Skip, because he had this gorgeous coat of dark gold fur the color of peanut butter. Crystal had wanted "Peanut", but she agreed "Skippy" sounded nicer. Eventually it became just Skip. I sigh as the nostalgia washes over me.
It dawns on me that she needs a name too. Her fur is kinda like the color of the yellow part of a peach, so maybe "Peaches" or just "Peach"? Neither sound right though. "Do you have a name" I ask her, causing her ears to perk up in an adorable alert position.
She looks up at me and nods smiling at first. But then she realizes she can't say it and blushes, frowning.
"Peaches?" I guess hopefully, but she shakes her head. "It'll take forever if try to guess. Can you spell it if I gave you letters?" I scrawl the abcs on a paper lying around. I hand her the paper but she doesn't seem to recognize the letters. "No, huh... Don't worry, we'll find your name."
After going through a list of over 100 "common pony names" supplied by google, the closest I could get to a nod was "Felicity". "Flash" had also gotten a bit of recognition, but I didn't think it suited her. "So we're going with Felicity?" I ask, not wanting to search through another list.
She pauses, thinking the name over and gives a reluctant nod.
I can tell it's not really her name, yet I can't sit here guessing all day either. But seeing that look of defeat on her sad face changes my mind, "Ok ok, just one more list can't hurt." A google search of "pony names" yields a Wikipedia page and I click before even looking at the description. I mean, it's Wikipedia; probably the best site to learn anything about everything and pony names should be no exception.
As the page loads, I turn to the pony and scratch behind her ears, "Felicity isn't so bad, is it?" She doesn't really give a straight answer, just whimpers and looks at me with those puppy dog eyes that beg for me to find the right name. "I'm trying, ok?"
When I look back at the screen, I almost drop my phone. There, on the "mlp wiki", a huge list of colorful ponies from some girls' TV show are displayed, all with striking similarities to the one standing right next to me. I look from the screen to the pony, then from the pony to the screen, too overwhelmed to say anything. Scrolling down the page, I start looking for one with peachyellow fur and pink mane. The one named "Fluttershy" bares the most resemblance. She looks a bit older in the picture, and she's feeding a white bunny. A closer look reveals three butterflies colored on her flank, like some sort of tattoo. Whatever they are, my pony doesn't seem to have them, but she's getting a little curious.
I can't just guess "Fluttershy" though... If that's really her name it would look suspicious and she would have questions. Instead I lie offhandedly, feigning disappointment, “sorry Felicity," I sigh for added effect, "it just stopped working"
She cringes a bit at the name, but accepts the excuse without question.
Does she know she's from a TV show? It isn't even real... How is that even possible? I realize I'm going to need to learn more about this before making any conclusions, but I can't do that with Felicity, or actually, Fluttershy, looking over my shoulder. If she saw pictures of herself, I don't know how she would handle it. How am I going to keep her occupied though? I don't have any dog toys left over from Skip... I threw them all out. Too many memories I can't bear to remember.
I try a few different ideas with little success. She hardly touches the pinwheel, only spinning it once or twice before leaving if alone. I try playing fetch but she ignores the blue ball too. (I should've known ponies aren't prime candidates for fetch). She doesn't seem to care for the shiny coins I jangle in front of her either, she just wants to be pet.
But that changes when I find a spool of string. Like a kitten, she unravels the yarn squeeing in delight as she rolls around, tangling her tiny hoofs. She looks at me beaming from ear to eat and I smile back, "don't worry about the mess, you have fun." I think that counts for 2 more towards the walls I need to punch.
While she's enjoying herself, I pull out my phone and look back at the picture, still amazed at the similarity. This is freaking crazy.
In the character description section there's a hyperlinked "see Fluttershy", and I open it. If I wasn't sure before, I was sure now, because under the first picture there's a second one titled "filly Fluttershy". The image is a definite match with the little pony tangled in string at my feet. Every detail, from the color of her eyes to the curl in her hair parallels perfectly. I have no clue how it's possible but... there she is... A pony from a childrens' TV show just playing on my floor like any domestic kitten would.
I read further into the page, learning more about her. Apparently, she loves animals and is the "element" of kindness. She's described as shy and often scared, which further confirms that my pony is actually her. I try to think of a logical explanation, maybe some advanced genetic manipulation or surgical artistry. but she's too good of a match, too perfect for any lab or breeding program to have created. Technology isn't that far along yet.
Well whatever she is and wherever she's from, one thing is clear; She's beyond adorable. Like Reddit r/awww front page adorable. Right now she's on her back, batting at a string hanging from the tangle at her legs with a mix of determination and pure happiness on her face. "You ok there Flu- Felicity?" I correct myself quickly, hoping she doesn't notice. But she's too engrossed in her own little tangled world to recognize the slip and just gives a red cheeked smile accompanied by a pleasure filled squee.
I believe that's another 2 walls on the list. How many is that already? Six?
Eventually she tires herself out, her heavy eyelids drifting downwards as she slips slowly into sleep. She tries to stretch on the floor as she yawns but her tangled legs can hardly move. It doesn't seem to bother her though and she closes her eyes, curling on the floor.
Melting a little inside, I gently untangle her and carry her upstairs on my shoulder. The little pony nuzzles my neck sleepily as I bring her into my room and lay her down softly on the bed. It's hardly been 2 hours since morning and she's already all tuckered out. I wonder how old she is.
She adjust herself on the bed and whimpers a bit before nestling in. I sigh smiling; I should really get her a puppy bed. And a couple of toys... and more apples.
"I'm gonna be out for a little," I whisper in her ear, "you stay outta trouble while I'm gone, ok?"
She cracks open one of her sapphire eyes, cocks her head, and whines questioningly, "Hmm?"
I run my hand over her smooth fur, "Don't worry, I'll be back soon enough. I'm just going to the pet shop for you so it shouldn't be long."
That wasn't completely true. I was first going to do a little research on my little pony to get toys best suited for her. If I've got inside information, why not use it.
"I'll leave some food out for when you wake up, so you be a good girl and don't make any messes"
She nods and licks my hand affectionately, hovering on the boundary of sleep. When I leave the house, a tear rolls down my cheek from memories of Skip's wet tongue against my hand. That makes the wall total at least nine... Oh well, bloody knuckles are the least of my cares at the moment.
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3155280 Perhaps I'm the writer in question? My fanfic has the same picture but it is named 'My Dear Shy' instead of following the 'My Little' trend.
3155280 I found the other 'My Little Fluttershy' you were possibly referring. Nevermind.
3190173 I didn't mean to copy anyone. I probably should've looked for any others before starting my own. Sorry
I hope you don't mind
3190282 I really don't mind at all! In fact, you really have outdone yourself with this piece here.
3190297 Thank you
I'm glad that u liked it and I'm happy u don't mind. Hopefully with classes getting underway, I'll still have time to write. most of my longer projects usually end up not being completed 
but I'll try to stay on top of this one.
Cynder? Have you been playing Spyro recently?
Also, he's gonna have to punch a dumptruck by the time this is over
3191091 lol I've played that game a while ago, but I've always loved the name. You'll notice Drake has a dragony connotation as well. I don't know why, but I just like the names. (Spryo isn't that great of a name imo, but Cynder defenitly is one of my favorite girl's names to use in writing.)
And am I using that too much? (The wall punching) I just felt it would be more interesting than using "my heart melted" every time
3191254 No, it's fine, keep on doing what you're doing