7: Introductions
Lynne awoke shortly before the crack of dawn. She had been a pony for over two days now, but it still briefly disoriented her to feel her quadrupedal body push off the ground with the help of four hooves. By the early morning light, she was able to see the maroon mare sleeping with her muzzle resting on a book.
Perhaps that’s what she was talking about? Lynne thought.
But she couldn’t keep last night out of mind for long. Her friends at university had joked about morning-after regrets, and she felt she could now relate—despite it not being after much of anything. She didn’t know what to think about last night, or what to make of Storm’s hasty retreat. Perhaps she had done something to make him see her as just a child to be coddled?
She berated herself: How ironic—I try to step away from being that sheltered girl, and I come off even more childishly naive! She turned to the unicorn, who she really needed to get on better terms with. You were right—she felt a vaguely familiar sensation working its way through her back half—about everything.
Embarrassed, she pushed her way out of the tent using her muzzle and tiphoofed away. As the sun peeked over the horizon, the breathtaking natural wonder of the forest came into full view. Whereas, before it had been a veritable obstacle course to rush through, she could now marvel at the rows upon rows of ancient trees, some of which had trunks as thick as she was long. The cool morning air tasted wonderful, completing a picture of perfection.
But to the cyan pony, it reminded her of her mistake. Their situation was outwardly exciting, like something out of her favorite novels, but the reality was much less forgiving. It was as the other mare said: they knew almost nothing about the self-proclaimed champion of the Wonderbolts. Yet she was entrusting him with her safety, and in a way, with her life.
After all, Lynne thought, he’s our only hope of turning back. This is really bad, and all I could think about was being free and…
Lynne could almost feel her mother’s judging eyes trained on the back of her head, a familiar sensation that had thoroughly whipped proper decorum into her. Subconsciously she straightened her gait as she trotted back towards the tent.
She resolved herself to vainly try and get a bit more rest; then she then noticed Storm’s upturned bag. It was a mini-mountain of survival necessities, some oddly specific tools and empty containers. She could hardly believe she had failed to notice it on the way out. However, what interested her the most was what appeared to be an ancient tome of sorts. Its spine was a reddish-brown, with small-type cursive lettering that was too stylized to read without getting closer.
That’s strange. Then what is it that she’s sleeping on? Lynne thought.
Quickly winning a debate against the timid part of herself, she decided to take a peek—or at least she would have, because at that moment at short snout pushed its way out of the tent flap.
Blinking her exhausted eyes, the other mare slowly lowered a hoof that she was using to block the sudden early light. Lynne turned around just in time to block the book from view, but quickly realized the implications of the decreased width of her frame and decided to sit on the book to be safe.
The girl, unfazed by the mess, gave only a curt nod before walking past and quickly checking their surroundings, deliberately scanning the skies.
“Good morning,” Lynne said nervously.
“Good morning,” the pony parroted in her cute accent. Before waiting for a reply however, she closed the distance between them and whispered, “We have something to talk about.”
Lynne’s ears drooped as she mustered her sincerest apology: “Yes, I have to say I’m sorry I snapped at you last last evening.”
“That’s not—”
“No, I was entirely out of line. I—as I might have hinted at last night, my parents tend to be a tad overprotective. I never had too many friends, so I liked to read a lot. I liked adventure and fantasy, but later I dove headlong into romance. I read everything I could in that genre—old gothic novels, historical fiction, Pride and Prejudice, Twilight… though that one got really weird in the last book.”
Realizing she was getting off-topic, Lynne shook her head and focused her gaze back on the other mare.
“What I’m trying to say is… I thought I was truly in love—for the first time in my life. This will only sound foolish, but I thought that this was a once in a lifetime meeting with my own Prince Charming.”
Lynne sniffled. It sounded so stupid when she said it out loud. Did she actually think she was living one of the Fairly Tale Falls exhibits?
“But—” the cyan unicorn continued, “but all that excitement, the beating of my heart, that was just—just estrus.” Tears pooled in Lynne’s eyes as her hooves gave way under her. “I was a complete child!” she sniffled.
She felt a comforting hoof stroking her withers.
“It’s okay,” the mare said. “I understand. I—I went through it too…” She paused to collect her thoughts. “It is strong. Maybe I would have done the same perhaps.” The pony had a shell-shocked look in her eye as she said this. Lynne knew well when someone was just trying to comfort her, but somehow it made her feel a bit better.
“I just thought it would be—you know, similar, but I guess not. I mean, it’s pushed me to the edge. This should have sunk in hours ago, but this whole situation is—I’m starting to freak out.”
The unicorn nodded slowly, hesitantly voicing, “Yes, I understand too. I miss my spouse and my children. Because I am like this, maybe I will never see them again. I don’t like it, but I can’t go back.”
It took Lynne a moment for the implications of the mare’s words to sink in. As soon as it did, she couldn’t help but blurt out, “Wait: you’re married? With kids?”
“Yes, I have a eight year-old son son and a sixteen year-old daughter. But I’m not married anymore.”
Eight and Sixteen!? She could quite well be my mother’s age. And here I was treating her like I would a friend or classmate! No wonder she snapped at me.
She lowered her head in deference. “I’m terribly sorry. All this time, I just assumed you were my age for some reason. If I had known I would have been much more respectful.
“It’s all right. I never told you. It’s strange how we look the same, because I’m forty-four, and you’re?”
“Nineteen.”
“I didn’t say, so don’t occupy yourself.”
“We never did quite get around to introducing ourselves,” Lynne said with a forced giggle. “As you probably already know, my name is Lynne.”
There was a pregnant pause. It was clear the mare picked up on her queue, but she was strangely nervous, looking away and at the ground before whispering, “Xavier.”
“Pardon? I didn’t get that?”
“It’s Xavier.”
“Shuh-vee-aye?” Lynee hazarded, mouthing the unfamiliar word. Thankfully she didn’t have to spell it. Was it French: Chavier?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Lynne would certainly need practice with the unusual name.
Why couldn’t she be called something more pedestrian? like Maria?
She couldn’t follow up on that thought, as a tension erupted below her stomach.
“I don’t suppose you have any medicine to deal with the symptoms?” Lynne asked.
“No, I don’t have any,” Chavier said. “I tried to distract myself by reading. It worked because I wasn’t thinking on it.”
“Thanks for the tip.” Lynne looked up and around their surroundings. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen Storm? When do you think we should wake him up?”
In a quick motion, Chavier trotted to her side, whispering directly into her ear, “Actually, there’s something you must see.”
“What’s that?”
“You’ll see,” she said, gesturing towards the tent.
Lynne followed her inside and noticed a hardcover book on the floor. Noting the title, she exclaimed, “Incredible! He has a book about him. They call him a legend.”
She turned to Chavier only to see her shake her head. “Read it.”
Lynne awkwardly tried pressing her muzzle against the book’s side, knocking it open to a dense section of small-font notes. She then briefly fumbled at the pages with the sides of her hooves and succeeded only in closing the book again. She let out a nervous snicker and glanced briefly at Chavier. To her surprise, she wasn’t having a laugh at her expense. It made sense, since they were probably in the same position. Barriers of embarrassment removed, she finally resorted to using her horn to pry the book open. It took a couple of attempts, but the book finally opened to a page in the middle.
King Tempest was known for his stubbornness, exceeded only by his short wick, which could ignite without warning. After Storm returned the Princess Ocean Breeze to her father, he found himself in a position of vulnerability. On one hand, he felt compelled to reward the former wonderbolt, which he couldn’t do with the state of his treasury. On the other, it was odious to him to give up his daughter to an outsider; to him, an Equestrian pegasus was no more desirable than an earth pony or unicorn. However, all of these factors just made Storm want the princess all the more; he had known she was perfect for his herd the moment she and Cloudy Puff laid eyes on each other.
Surprise overtook Lynne, though it soon melted away to reveal fear. “It can’t be… according to this book, Storm has already met Ocean Breeze… but how could he mistake me for her.” She racked her brain for an explanation. “I suppose it is possible to mistake me for someone else, but not if he loved Ocean! He hasn’t said a single word about a shared history together.”
I wonder what it means by herd, she wondered briefly.
“That isn’t the only thing,” Chavier said. “It seems that he is a historic pony, who lived centuries before that book. It’s not possible that he’s Storm Chaser in truth.”
Lynne felt suddenly lightheaded and very scared. Her mind and heart were racing as she tried to make sense of it all.
“I think he was a person before, like us,” she continued.
“By why would he lie to us?” Lynne asked.
In truth, she could think of a dozen malicious reasons to do so, but they all seemed at odds with how the stallion had treated them thus far.
“I think that he is crazy,” Chavier said. “Listen to how he talks. He believes that he is that pony.”
“But he does know a lot about Equestria.”
“It is probable that he read the book. He’s pretending all of it.”
The explanation did make sense. The shock of what she had read still had not worn off entirely, but it was a bit of a relief to be able to believe that the pegasus had no bad intentions towards them. However, it was very frightening to think that their pegasus protector could be mentally ill.
“It doesn’t make sense though. We can’t use magic at all, yet he can fly brilliantly and make lightning with clouds.”
Chavier looked puzzled at this, rubbing her chin with a hoof. “I don’t know. Maybe he learned. It would be great that we learn magic too. Strange things have happened with the books already. Maybe the knowledge will just come into our heads?”
“Does that mean Equestria is real, then? If it’s not, then where did this magic that turned us into ponies come from?”
“I also don’t know, but I think it is too dangerous here. I think we should take the supplies and run. It’s the only way.”
The proposal made sense, though Lynne would feel bad about stealing. Even more so, leaving the stallion seemed regrettable; she felt so safe and at ease around him. Granted, this could have been her body talking, but him saving them from being sold as livestock had to count for something. For some reason it felt wrong to go off on their own, and she was strangely attached to their nascent group.
“I—I think we should stay.”
“Què t’emptatolles! He’s crazy! We can’t trust in him!”
“Hear me out,” Lynne said, hoping the older woman wouldn’t see her as out-of-line. “With what we now know, he has abilities we can’t explain. It’s possible that we will suddenly be able to use magic in the same way he can use his powers, but it’d be absurd to rely on such a far-fetched possibility. So if it doesn’t work out like that, he may know something that can help us learn magic.” She glanced at Chavier for approval; the mare was listening intently. “And if we can learn magic, we might be able to change back. It’s a longshot, but he can also protect us in the meantime. I don’t know about you, but I’d feel helpless out here on our own.”
Chavier seemed torn. “But we don’t know where he is taking us. He’s nuts! This Equestria maybe doesn’t exist!”
Lynne nodded. “That concerns me too, which is why I’m going to talk to him.”
“But what if he—what if he attacks us.”
The cyan pony sighed. “I don’t like that he lied to us, but I feel like this is the right way. I want to believe in him—for all the good he’s done for us.”
“Fine…” Chavier finally said after a long pause. “But I’m coming with you.”
They locked eyes and after an exchange of glances signaling understanding, the two of them trotted out of the tent together. They split up and circled the perimeter of the clearing, glancing at the sky every so often. Finding nothing, they resorted to waiting by the tent after calling out for him a couple of times. They didn’t have to wait long, as the pegasus arrived a minute later, accompanied by the tantalizing scent of freshly cooked fish.
“A good morning to you fine ladies. I hope you will welcome a hearty breakfast. Caught them myself and cooked them a ways away, to avoid attracting any ursa to our camp with its delectable odor. Back in the academy, we used to have contests to see who could catch the most fish with their bare hooves, but I suppose you’d be eager to eat. I can regale you as we do so.”
I wonder which chapter that’s from, Lynne thought. But she maintained outward interest.
“Storm?” she asked. “I couldn’t help but notice the book about yourself in the backpack. Its contents were spilled all over; I don’t know how that happened.”
“I emptied it when I looked for a flashlight,” Chavier supplied, retreating a few paces towards the tent.
The pegasus knocked himself gently on the head with his hoof. “Quite an oversight on my part. I should have left you one. Excuse my lack of consideration.” He took the emptied backpack in his mouth and made a makeshift table, placing the two fish on it for them. “The smell could still attract wild animals, so I’d advise you to eat quickly. We should leave shortly thereafter, lest our pursuers find us.”
“Wait a minute! We—” Lynne turned her head to Chavier and silently pleaded to her to calm down.
“That’s sounds like a plan. However, I’m rather interested in that book. Do you mind telling us about that instead while we eat.”
The stallion cocked his head and stared off into space for a moment. “Oh, yes of course! I can see how that would prove confusing. Quite embarrassing now that I think of it. It was rather indulgent of me to fantasize about herding with the two of you.”
Lynne was thrown for a loop, wondering how possibly to respond to that. Chavier on the other hand was more verbal:
“What?! Fantasize!?”
“I know this looks bad, but let me explain. There’s quite a bizarre fad sweeping through the wealthy in Canterlot right now: a sort of self-aggrandizing autobiography if you would. Basically the pony writes what their future dreams and ambitions as if it were fact. It’s an exercise that is supposed to make one’s goals more concrete and help one life their best life. Of course, once Baron Bagatelle got in on it, it became an exercise in one-upmanship, everyone attempting to write the most preposterous, self-aggrandizing future for themselves.”
Incredibly fishy! Though consistent with his story, Lynne didn’t buy a word of it. At her side, Chavier was starting to quiver with rage. She had to admit only the most naive could possibly take this at face value.
“But why does it say you’ve been dead for hundreds of years!” Chavier challenged.
The emerald pony nodded with a smile. “That’s the other half of it: the pony thinks about how she wants to be remembered as a form of self-reflection.”
Chavier’s ears drooped. Her anger seemed to turn to shyness before her expression tightened again.
“We’ll talk later,” Lynne whispered.
The maroon mare let out a sigh and nodded.
“Now that that’s cleared up, you fillies have hardly touched your food. You wouldn’t want it to get cold.”
They put their muzzles down and bit down on their meal at the same time. They had to use a hoof to hold down the tail in order to bite a piece off. It seemed unsanitary, but otherwise they were liable to drag the fish straight off the plate and onto the dirt. Chewing the first bite, Lynne found the taste familiar, with a subtle twist. It might have just been the freshness of it, but it seemed to have a certain richness. It reminded her somehow of fresh vegetables, though this didn’t do much to make her like the taste any more.
Chavier seemed to be enjoying it a bit more than she, but if the look in her eyes was anything to go by, this peace offering did very little to take the edge off of her suspicion. Storm, meanwhile was watching intently, doing his best to avoid outright staring. He opened his mouth to speak a couple of times but seemed to think better of it.
Finally, he cleared his throat inconspicuously and said, “I recognize losing your magic must have been hard on the both of you. As a pegasus pony, I know I can’t possibly understand what it’s been like, especially not the cultural part of it. I can understand if you don’t want to resort to using your hooves, but just know that I will not find this a breach of etiquette in the slightest, nor will I speak of it to any other unicorn.
“What do you mean?” Lynne asked.
“It’s just a suggestion. Feel free to do as you wish. I only wished to emphasize that there are no judging eyes here, one of many benefits of the wilderness.” Storm then lifted an autumn leaf to his nose, smelled it and then twirled it by its stem.
His comments reminded Lynne to stay in character for the time being. Fortunately, her real status in life wasn’t all that different. However, his comments did make her curious. Slowly, she inched a hoof towards her food and ran it over the fish. For the first time, the unexpected sensitivity of the appendage entered the forefront of her mind. Feeling silly she, poked the food and felt for adhesion before taking a bite to disguise what she was doing. After all, Ocean Breeze should know how to do this.
She wondered if unicorn ponies were even capable of the type of unreal dexterity Storm had displayed with digitless feet. Judging by the magazine and Storm’s comments, it appeared magical levitation was the ubiquitous substitute. Truthfully, she felt silly even attempting it, like a gullible falling for a sibling’s fib. If he was right, though, it was too useful to ignore.
Chewing through a tough piece of flesh, Lynne thought, What if I try picking it up normally?
In a moment of strange faith, she closed her eyes and imagined her human hand enclosing her food. Amazingly, it worked, as the fish seemed to snap to her hoof. Disbelieving, she tried shifting it around mid-air. She was somewhat successful, but hooves had their limits. It felt like she had her fingers again, only they felt numb and stubby. Still, any dexterity greatly exceeded her expectations, and she took a big, triumphant, bite.
Chavier looked at her, mystified as she dropped her breakfast in a failed imitation. “Collons,” she cursed. It took quite a bit of willpower for Lynne not to laugh at the high-pitched angry squeak.
After breakfast, they followed the foolhardy stallion further into the woods, waiting until they had a moment to themselves.
“He’s crazy; I told you!” Chavier whispered, when she was sure the pegasus was out of earshot.
“It does seem like that. Whenever we question his implausible story, he merely piles on more implausibilities,” Lynne replied. “I still think we should follow him, though. Honestly, I don’t know what else to do…”
Chavier scowled. “You’re… right. I don’t like it, but you’re right. Though what if he attacks us!”
“He’s looney, but he hardly seems violent. Catching fish, surviving in the wilderness, and even saving us—clearly he’s got some things figured out. Maybe his taking us to ‘Equestria’ could be something great. Who knows? Maybe he’ll take us to the source of all of this.”
Chavier sighed and nodded.
And so, they regrouped and continued traveling into the night, passing through the autumn tinted wilderness. Occasionally, they would cross a lonely road, or even hide with bated breath when the sounds of nature proved a bit too intimidating. They did encounter docile creatures and other herbivores, but such animals seemed to prefer keeping their distance.
They stopped only for a meal—canned peaches—and to occasionally catch their breath. After a day of acclimation to her new body, Lynne found her endurance slowly improving, though she was nowhere near a match for the athletic stallion. Running was still enjoyable to her, but the novelty of walking on four hooves was wearing off fast—even more so was the constant clip-clop of their hooves on the terrain.
Just before dusk, they agreed to set-up camp once more. They now were at the foot of a mountain range, so they used a steep incline as a shield from behind. Storm flew off to forage, while the two mares erected the tent. Chavier had picked up “hoofing” things pretty quickly with a few tips from Lynne. Still, they lacked coordination, and their newfound ability didn’t make it as easy as they would have hoped.
After half an hour of making good use of their mouths and hooves, they finally finished and dragged the hefty backpack inside to get out the sleeping bags. Even though both they and the tent were sized for children, there was distressingly little room for essential supplies.
Her companion took her mysterious book in hoof and opened it before Lynne could manage to see the title, hoping to make use of the remaining daylight. Lynne followed suit, hoping to read up on magic. She opened the section on levitation once more and started reading it from the beginning, hoping for a hint. However, she was soon interrupted.
“Umm… excuse me,” Chavier murmured.
Lynne slowly turned around to face him.
“Well you know… maybe you made a mistake last night, but maybe we can avoid a bigger mistake.”
“What do you mean?” Lynne asked.
Chavier blushed—impressive considering the color of her coat. “My book”—she closed it and pushed it towards Lynne with her muzzle. “well, it’s about families.”
You and Your Herd: A Practical Guide for Stallions and Mares.
The maroon pony opened it to a dog-eared page. “This is a spell to stop pregnancy. We can’t use magic yet, but maybe we can figure it out, before it’s too late.”
Lynne sighed and stretched her neck, touching the roof of the tent. She wanted to shrink away, but Chavier’s earnestness helped her guilt win out.
“The truth is that Storm turned me down last night.” It hurt to say it, as it hammered home that she was a naive little girl whose attempt at intimacy was waved away.
“I figured as much,” Chavier said.
“What do you mean?” Lynne asked, flustered. Was she spying on her?
“Well, pony noses are very good. I think that I would smell him on you, but I don’t.”
It was now Lynne’s turn to blush.
“That’s cheating! That’s entirely unfair! It’s an invasion of privacy.”
The other pony slowly nodded with sympathy. “To me it seems that it goes both ways. No secrets in that aspect. That way, you don’t need to worry about him cheating with me.” She slowly smiled the smallest bit, wary.
Lynne laughed, setting aside her slight offense at the good-natured jab. “True, I suppose that is an advantage, since even hugging will get another pony’s scent all over you. With that at their disposal, ponies ought to be champion gossips.”
Chavier looked like she didn’t fully understand, but she smiled anyway.
“Thank you, by the way,” Lynne said softly. “At first, you reminded me a bit too much like my mother, and that may have rubbed me the wrong way. Now realize, that like her, you’re also looking out for me, so thank you. Being a mother yourself, it must be second-nature to you.”
The Spanish pony’s face contorted; then she looked away bashfully.
“In truth”—she sighed— “I was a man; my sex changed.”
Lynne’s fur nearly went as red as Xavier’s. “What! How could you not tell me?! If I had known I wouldn’t have said half....”
“I’m sorry. I thought you would because my name.”
“I’m a Brit. How am I supposed to know Shuh-vee-aye’s a man’s name?”
“Don’t you have the name in English. Spanish is Javier.”
“Javier? In English that would be… Xavier?”
“Yes! That’s it; I forgot how to say in English.”
After a brief moment of silence, Lynne asked, in disbelief, “This whole time you were a man?”
Xavier nodded apologetically.
It felt wrong. She had poured her heart out to what she thought had been a kind older woman. Finding out she was a man had pulled the rug out from under her. She wanted to snap out. This was something too important not to clarify.
Lynne huffed. “I… I need a minute.” And she stormed outside to see a different sort of Storm alighting. She wasn’t too excited to see him either.
“Hello, fairest Ocean! I return with the bounty of the wilderness.” He set down a blanket full of berries and mushrooms.
She tried her best not to show disappointment at their prospective dinner. “What if they’re poisonous?”
“Not to worry! My nose and eyes are trained for survival, and I can assure you these are not only edible, but highly nutritious.
Xavier stepped out of the tent asking, “What’s that strange smell?”
“Why hello again, Milady Warm!”
Xavier winced.
“I have squeezed water out of the stone of the wild for this meal. The finest champignons around! A pretty safe bet considering ‘around’ is the middle of nowhere, but they are scrumptious I assure you.”
Lynne’s nose didn’t believe him. As he turned to her with eyes and a smile that seemed out to make a sale, she flinched a little. It was hard to look him in the eye after the previous night. For that reason, she was grateful for Xavier’s presence.
“Would you prefer raw or cooked? If you are as eager as I am, I wouldn’t oblige you to wait. I brought plenty.”
The young mare turned to Xavier for help. Surprisingly, he stepped forward. “Actually, I would like to handling the cooking. I saw some things in the bag that could improve it.”
Storm gave an exaggerated look of horror. “Oh, no, I couldn’t ask you to further lower yourself to such a menial task. You have already braved the forces nature without complaint and with such resilience; I couldn’t possibly ask you to do more.”
Xavier gave an annoyed scowl.
“I insist,” he said, beginning to move before the pegasus could broker an argument.
Storm started a fire, while Xavier dragged out some salt, pepper and simple seasoning. Using the empty jar of nuts from the previous day as a cutting board, she sliced the mushrooms with a shaky hoof. His cuts were uneven, but still impressively close for doing it via hoof.
He smelled each variety of mushroom and sorted them into two categories. He put pepper on one type, salt on the other. Then, he sandwiched groups of three mushrooms together and ran through each of them with a toothpick. As they were cooked, the strong, funky scent started to give way to one far more alluring.
When Xavier finally said, “they’re ready,” Lynne practically glided close to the fire; Storm was close behind. She had never had wild mushrooms before, but she didn’t care. She said a brief thank you and bit off the entirety of the first mini shish-kebab.
It was impossibly good. Somehow it had been cooked perfectly. The flavors of the different types of mushrooms blended perfectly, and the seasoning added an extra punch that was brought out to the fullest by texture of the fungi. She didn’t know how much of her appreciation came from her new set of taste buds, but she didn’t want to take away from Xavier’s efforts.
“This is excellent,” Lynne said. “I didn’t think it was possible for us to eat food this good way out here. And for what you had to work with—just incredible.”
If he can cook this well, I may just be able to forgive him for earlier, Lynne thought.
Storm took his first bite and sprang up from his sitting position on a stump.
“I must agree! This is divine. Surely you have been trained by a master.”
Xavier shook his head deliberately.
“No, it’s no big deal; I’m no chef. I just run a tapas bar. I had to learn something about cooking for appetizers.”
“This is still very good. Thank you!” Lynne said.
“No problem,” Xavier said following him dropping his fourth used toothpick to the ground.
In light of their recent conversation, Lynne couldn’t find much to talk about with the Spaniard and was happy to let Storm fill the silence with another tall-tale. After half an hour of his regaling, she tried to sneak in a question about the specifics of his planned route to Equestria, but he only cryptically commented that its territory was fast approaching.
Though it was too dark to read after they had finished, it was too early to sleep. Lynne occupied herself with further attempts to figure out magic. She invited Xavier to join her, but the reluctant mare declined. For a brief moment she thought she had seen a brief flash above her head, but she ultimately chalked it up to a trick of the dying fire’s flickering embers. At this point, she noticed that Xavier had turned in early, snoring in the cutest way possible. It was something of a muffled whimper mixed with a whinny. It was a sort of metronome that she could easily fall asleep to.
Just thinking this made the spot next to Xavier look so inviting. It would be so easy to curl up against him and feel his warm fur on her again. She remembered it well: it was thin like a fuzzy blanket and tickled her if she moved. But though it was less than a foot away from her, she couldn’t bring herself to close the distance. Thinking of the human he was before made it seem too weird.
But seeing only an adorable pony, she couldn’t muster much revulsion to the idea. Even so, Lynne was determined; she had to make the fact that he was really a middle-aged man matter. It was a weird situation no matter how she looked at it. Cold despite her fur, Lynne eventually drifted to sleep.
The next few days continued similarly with improvised meals and long treks dodging civilization. Eventually, the three ponies found themselves tiptoeing towards the edges of their tree cover, watching for any people inside the border checkpoint. To the unicorns, it proved a fruitless task, but Storm claimed to see half a dozen agents from above.
Sandwiched in between two overwhelming mountains, the border checkpoint was certainly unimpressive in comparison. It consisted of four long, slender buildings with barricades for just as many cars.. Nonetheless it had its own formidability to be braved. The only way they could think to successfully cross was Storm grabbing onto the “mares” one at a time and ferrying them through the sky.
After a brief debate, Lynne agreed to go first. With apologies, Storm flapped his wings, gently, hovered above Lynne and wrapped all four hooves around her barrel. Her ascent made her feel almost weightless as the pair of them took to the air. His strong grip was compromised only by her need to breathe, but as they gained more and more altitude it began to feel inadequate. How could she do this—it was such an enormous amount of trust she had put into a sketchy stranger. If he dropped her, it would all be over.
On the other hand, she should be reveling in the thrill of flight, as it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Her nerves starting to build, she pried open her eyes and took in the panoramic view in front of her and marveled at how tiny the checkpoint below them seemed. Then, her bravery exhausted in a brief moment of whimsy, she closed her eyes tight and braced herself. Every second was an hour. With her sight cut off and her hearing muffled by wind, she could feel only his heart beat as he carried her along.
She felt hot, even stifled in her fur. What would normally have been borderline intimate, seemed downright lewd with her in heat. Though she no longer weighed as much, she had to marvel at the strength needed to be able to carry her across the sky like she was a stuffed animal. Though still fearful, she felt strangely secure in his arms.
As they landed, she simultaneously felt relief and a pang of disappointment.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said nervously. She tried her best not to stare at his toned body, but eye contact was even more embarrassing, and she just looked away.
“You should probably hide. I’ll be back in a flash with Lady Warm.”
Lynne nodded, and he took off. From her hiding spot behind a large bush, she could still see the checkpoint, led her to wonder what would happen if the others were spotted. She felt tense, but she preferred to worry over being distracted by her symptoms. Ten minutes seemed to pass. Then fifteen.
It was to her great relief to spot a red speck in the sky that gradually formed into two distinct, growing shapes.
“Was there a problem?” Lynne asked.
“No, not at all,” the stallion said.
Xavier looked rattled.
“Are you okay?” she asked the maroon pony.
“Yes, it was a little scary, but…” She stole a glance at Storm before quickly looking away. “Nevermind. Where are we going next?”
“We go to the north!” the pony declared in the most grandiose way possible, not caring that the vapid answer did nothing to correct his foolhardy image.
Lynne and Xavier traded a look of mutual understanding and took off behind the stallion—towards the unknown.
I’m back in France again. Lynne thought.
Though more than distance kept her from the life she had known, but she still felt a little closer to home. Looking to the ponies on her left and right, she took in the calming rhythm of three sets of hooves hitting the ground.
It certainly could be worse.
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Lynn don't tempt fate!
6931963
I wish I had thought of that connection at the time!
6935250
Glad you enjoyed it. Like most things I write, I was convinced it was genius when I wrote it, and now I'm just hoping I didn't embarrass myself.
6939047
I just caught up with this story. Strange, I was pretty sure I saw it update more recently than five weeks ago... I guess I've been putting it on the backburner too much
I'm interesting to follow more of the adventures of these characters, and when they will finally meet. Right now there are several seemingly disjointed threads that, while interesting, I feel could use a bit more focus in breaking it together, in getting character development, much like the original story focused almost entirely on the royal herd.
I do think that the going back and forth has helped keep the perspective from going stale. It also has kept a wider view of what is going on active too, but focusing downwards can only help. Also, there is quite a bit of time left to traverse, to get it to the point where humans and ponies can work together freely, and being stuck in the hiding away phase or inhuman conditions is rather depressing over the long-term for a story.
7059129
I'm actually going to limit the number of plot threads quickly if I can. Although, I do have another one in the works; it has to do with what the majority of the prologue foreshadowed. Hopefully I can weight them accordingly.
And thanks for the comment and the feedback. It makes me happy seeing any response to this little story of mine
7061812
Ahh, it's the fear of any author: running into someone who has direct experience in an area she's going out on a limb to write about. I'm glad I passed the test instead of embarrassing myself.
I've never been to Spain; it's just that I've done an embarrassing amount of research. I read two textbooks on the Catalan language just to try and get a little bit of dialogue right. I'm quite into Romance linguistics. I knew of Galician through study of Portuguese, and this started my fascination with minority languages.
I've actually created one OC pony with a Catalan name. Let's see if I get to use her.
i'll try to minimize the POV changes in the future.
7067448
You're on the right track with the Don Quixote observation. Half of Storm's inspiration is Dox Quixote. The other is hinted in his cutie mark. And no, it's not Buzz Lightyear, though I'm only now realizing how much that one applies.
As far as Dolors goes, the dictionary I used says that is the Catalan spelling. You are probably right about the diminutive. I'm probably just being too showy with the name meaning pain. It reminds me of Inuyasha, where they had to change the protagonist's name because Kagome was rather unfortunate in most romance languages.
Probably should have looked that one up
7069241
It's hard to predict something like this; though on paper, it looks like you guys probably would react better. Maybe the government would react better than the common people, of which a vocal minority would seriously object. Hard to say.
7070405
She's fun to write to boot.
7064275
Damn I was not notified of any of your answers! Lucky me i was reading the comments here to give my last feedback. You did really well, as you know this is a touchy topic, but I think you approached it very well. Here I see Xavi as a regular and good guy, that happen to guilt part of his misfortune to politic. In my experience the few hiper nationalist that I have found are like that. Rare is the case that they will get aggressive if you speak Spanish to them.
Oh yeah the little languages are quite interesting, I use to mix some words from catalan or basquian with my Spanish :p
I mentioned the catalan names because those already sound funny in spanish, in catalan have to be even more amusing :p
Well i am not catalan, i am canarian in fact, but i have been living in Barcelona the last 5 years. So if you need more feedback or advice i will be glad to help :)
7067927 now you only need a Sancho Panza and you have the full set xD I still surprised when I see people from abroad that knows spanish culture
I just checked and you are right, the catalan version of Dolores is Dolors xD
Here they use to dont translate the names. But then again, there are some japanese names that sounds bad in spanish. Like Laputa Castle (studio Ghibli movie, it means Whore xD) or a car called Pajero(masturbator)
The change of POV are good, in fact i like it. Keeps the story more dynamic and you never got bored of any character. This reminds me a bit to R R Martin.
I was more confused of why or how they traveled so much. Maybe i am missing more descriptions. :)
7069485 dunno where you come from so its hard to give a comparative point of view. So I will take USA(as it is picture in the movies, i am not an expert in politics xD) as example. Here the government is not that powerful. Someone dissappearing because the government intelligence agency is unheard. The most you can find is corruption(a lot of money dissapears). Also here people is quite close: i suppose that if someone turns into a pony most likely ther family and friends would close ranks around them. And they would try to get a health permit to stop working and take siestas all day xD
Heck! For sure all the political parties would try to take them under their wing to gain popularity
7071860 become the equivalent to a talking flying and troll cat sure has to be fun xD
7071909
I may take you up on that; you could be a great resource.
7071979
I may be able to make that work...
7071988
My ideal reincarnation.
7073714 yay finally so much beer and so maby tapas will be useful for something xD
Ah! You tease us so! Is Storm a man driven insane by his transformation into a pegasus, or is he a genuine pegasus from Equestria, who happens to be completely insane? Does he know a way to Equestria, when it's so far separate from Earth that even Discord's great power strains to reach us? Did they just cross the English channel on
footwing? And how do you derive something so fine quality, so intriguing and captivating as this story, from such a tawdry cheap story like The Chaotic Touch of Harmony? Your characterization is amazing!7097214
Hearing you enjoy this little story of mine so much really made my day. It's high praise, so thank you.
My strategy for writing this was to explore the gaps left by the original story. It was most interesting in exploring the macro-scale conflict and the broader developments. What interested me most about the premise was how the ponification would affect individuals caught in the middle of the conflict.
Another departure from the original is the reversal of the main character aura. Alexia's cutie mark gives her the chosen one vibe, so I wanted to see what happens when a villain is the one blessed with such power instead. It's a development I had to negotiate long and hard to get the original author's consent for. I look forward to writing it.
7104571
Oh right, that head Mion guy. He's totally Princess Mion.
Glad to hear I've made your day. It's so much easier to write when people actually tell you what they think about it. What I like about this story isn't so much what the original author thinks of it, but the interesting characters, and their complex relationships and personalities. They are all very different people, and it's fascinating to see them interact, and get hints at the history that brought them to be that way.