In The Land of The Fuzzy Wuzzies

by Regina Wright

Chapter Two

“Heya, Horsey Mount-Mount! Guess who!”

At the sound of that disgustingly chipper voice, my head hit the wall. Wincing at the pain, I turned to the source. There she was, a young unicorn scribe by the name of Winter Wheel. When all of the other book-types roaming the castle for its intensive library were nice enough to keep their hooves to themselves, she was the one who liked to be hands on. At first, she explained it off as the pure and just need to sate her curiosity but I knew better.

I knew all the ponies that I had to deal with on a daily basis better.

Winter grinned when our eyes met. Her bow-like lips on the verge of popping. In her big gleeful eyes, all I saw was my own sagging frown and the exhaustion caked to my face.

“Oh wait, don't guess who.” She said, crouching forward with her hindquarters perched in the air as if she was considering to pounce me. My eye twitched. I gripped my arm, recalling each and every one of her pounces I had to suffer through whenever she was in need for a 'pick-me-up'.

“We don't need Feather Fine knowing where I am. That overbearing monster has ears everywhere. Just saying his name might make him appear, yuck.” She shuddered, returning to a more neutral stance with her tail dropping to hang between her legs. I felt my eyebrow raise in apprehension. Then beads of sweat. Forming and fleeing one after the other as they ran down the side of my face, screaming that I should run. I swiped them away with the side of my hand while stopping myself from shifting pressure to the front of my feet.

“But I am happy to see you. Didn't. You. Miss. Me? Of course you did, we are the diction henchmares! Book buddies! Explorers lost on the written page, ka-pow. I missed you, Horsey but Finicky Fine wouldn't let up. You set one little containable and extremely reasonable house fire in the Plants and Patents section...” Winter blabbed, ending in a sour-looking pout that melted away into a chip-tooth smile. “What have you been up to, good boy?”

The tip of her tail wagged, warning me that the chance of her pouncing me wasn't out of play.

And so a useless thought came to me. Ponies were like cats. They liked rubbing on each other. Their moods could be determined by their tails. They got in fights over space and had pissing contests over nothing. And most annoyingly, they loved hearing their voices when it came to being around humans. I mean, human. What if I'm just a special case? I just don't give off an aura deserving of a personal bubble.

I forced my mouth to even out. Tried to remind myself that the ponies weren't doing it on purpose.

The whole Horsey Mount-Mount thing.

Wasn't I trying to get to my room a while ago? I need to get back to that.

I got up and stretched, bending left and right before switching to back and fro. The back of my head bumping a few times into the wall made things a little clearer. Simpler. I was in a land of ponies on a magical planet. There are just something you just have to take in perspective. And I've used up a shred of dignity today.

Winter seemed lost in her own world, scoping out both ends of the hallway. I guessed she must have skipped out on her supervisor. Around this hour, she was usually one of the ponies being sent out into the city to pick up lunch orders for the rest of the scribes. Mostly because she wasn't trusted to not snap an ancient tome in half when her attention wavered, the clueless dolt.

And by the way, ponies really like to gossip when they think- Honestly, I don't know what they think when they start talking their problems around me like I'm their... confessional teddy bear... Even the quiet, moody ones like said mentioned supervisor.

I blankly stared at her, watching the mare fiddle with her saddlebag. An awkward silence settling between us like a stale odor in a boxed room. The noise of her contents in her bag shuffling grew louder and louder as I didn't say anything.

I shifted my feet, resolving to stay quiet.

Winter stopped for a few seconds, glancing back at me as if she missed my reply and wanted me to repeat it. She would, wouldn't she? I liked pressing the button of my action figure when I was a kid, hearing the same lines over and over, too. Her eyes dropped to the translator and she made a innocuous-sounding “Hmm.”

She has made that sound around me before. It is the death rattle of betrayal.

To continue my cat-to-pony metaphor, talking to ponies was the equivalent of petting them. Without actually petting them. I'm sure if I held my ground long enough, I'd finally get somewhere with reaching them as a fellow person.

My eyes went to her tail. Entranced as the tip spun lazily in a wide circle before curling tightly. The air grew tense as Winter redrew from her bag. Returning her attention back to me.

I stiffened in response.

Acutely aware of all the exits available to me and the fact that Winter was blocking my only way out. I had to concentrate. I was overreacting like I always do.

But the sight was too bizarre.

As if I was seeing through the bottom of a wine glass, she seemed to grow larger and strange. Her colors inverted. White fur becoming a faded eerie black spilling out onto the floor. Silver mane a lucid green. The unicorn's muzzle extended, mangled fangs gleaming through her tight-lipped maw. Her shadow loomed along the floor, revealing the form of an equine forked-tailed beast as Winter pawed at the ground. The dragging thud of each stroke from her massive paw, echoing against the shrunken walls, became a mad song. A prelude to her eventual charge.

I held my hands to my ears, shaking the crazy out of my skull.

The walls spun. My palms dripped with sweat as I took a step back. Everything seemed to go out of focus as my eyes burned. Without meaning to, I slammed my arm against the wall as a balance as my breath sped up. My legs quaked, eyes searching for a weapon. I shook my head. I have to stand my ground. This couldn't be real. 'Then I should run,' my mind quickly supplied. I shook my head again, forcing myself to stay calm.

Winter wasn't a threat.

My stomach gurgled. Roaring for me to pick an option. Attack before attacked. Flee before flayed. I grabbed at my waist and refused to budge. None of the ponies were a threat but I couldn't help but feel like they were constantly trying to attack me.

I forced my head to look up at her. The specter, that monster, was gone but yet I was still wary. Winter had changed her stance. Resting on her left forehoof as she held her right hoof in the air with her head tilted to the side. The positioning of her body and inquisitive gaze seemed to say, 'What's wrong? Is there anything I can do to help?' That's what that gesture meant to ponies. I've studied them, watching their reaction to each other.

Winter wasn't being aggressive.

She meant well.

She has to mean well.

Winter couldn't be winding up for an attack.

Her long gray tail flickered, winding and unwinding like a snake readying to strike. Silver-tipped ears perked as Winter squeezed her lips. I averted my gaze, gradually opening my mouth. Flushing, I felt embarrassed and ashamed... I couldn't even begin to imagine what this looked like on her end. She was a friend and here I was, becoming afraid of her.

But before I could get a single syllable out, Winter began crossing over. Casually invading my space. Unconsciously, I started backpedaling. Trying to limit the amount of space in the little crook by squeezing myself into the crack where the walls met.

My knees buckled.

I felt my body try to override my desire to face her head on. It kept on sending images of me dropping to the floor and laying still. Some sort of instinct that if I went motionless, she wouldn't be able to see me and leave. I've already tried that move without realizing it. It never works. My human ancestors weren't dealing with talking, well-meaning animals when they came up with it. If I squatted, she'd only ask why or worse, attempt to pick me up with her teeth.

As my body fought me, Winter made her move. She forced herself into the corner, her knees poking me in the backside as she corralled me out. “What are you doing here all by yourself?” She asked as if she didn't just herded me like a shepherd's dog. The feel of her white coat brushing against my legs sent shivers up and down my spine. Tentatively, I turned and touched Winter's snout as she kept moving me forward. Trying to gain a accurate feel of a pony's coat.

Maybe, this time it would be different.

For a moment, it felt short and fuzzy before it turned coarse and hard. Under my hand, clumps of hair radiated a foul smell as I tried to bear through it. Committing the touch to memory. My tongue went dry as I shuddered. The faint stench of matted fur and death waffling up to my nose as I pushed down my desire to vomit. I removed my hand and started at it, wondering why everything had to be like this. Why did the ponies have to be so... Strange...

“No reason.” I sighed, dignity gone. Whatever the translator came up with, I wouldn't let it raise my blood pressure. Inhale. Exhale. I am as cool as a cucumber. I am as idle as a mile. “What brings you here?”

“No reason, I wanted to be alone.” The translator said, hardly stopping when I smacked myself and groaned. “I didn't think I would see you. Why are you here? You're not supposed to be here.” I dragged my fingers down my face, nails clawing red angry marks.

“Buddy no,” She cooed, still nudging me into the middle of the hallway despite the fact I've now planted my feet to the ground and didn't want to be moved. “Nopony really wants to be alone.”

Oh my god, translator. Why would you do this to me?

“I didn't abandoned you or anything. I was just busy doing boring old filing work in the Canterlot Archives. You wouldn't like it there. It's boring and dusty and the head scribe has a hoof stuck up his as- I mean, his ears with a candlestick.” She paused in her words, snickering to herself before she- “Wanna learn some swears? Can't have the whole Equestrian experience without learning some colorful words?”

“I can curse, fine.”

“I know a lot of naughty words.” The translator said in my stead.

“Oh, do you?” She said, clearly not believing me even without the translator making everything worse. “Then let's start off with something easy. Butt.”

“That's not a curse word.”

“That's not a naughty word.”

“Than what is a naughty word to you, good boy?”

Why do I even bother? “Ass.”

“Buttcheeks! Buttcheeks! Butt-CHEEKS!”

She laughed, her voice reaching a glass-shattering pitch as she guffawed herself blue. I crossed my arms and groaned. I can't get upset. I have to ration my acts of irrational hysteria. If I did it too often, I'd lose my voice despite how unhelpful my voice has been so far.

All I could imagine is that in some distant future if I kept this pattern up, I would turn into a drooling man-child. Shrieking in an animal preserve in a good scenario. Shrieking in a petting zoo in the worse.

Maybe even the Princesses would say a speech over the attending crowd as I tried to chew my leg off, “Man was not fit for our civilization of magical wonders and knowledge even a three year old foal could understand. He deserves to be among his brethren in the wild. The bidding for the very last cuddle shall begin at two thousand and fifty bits which shall go into our newest charity, 'Mental Safety And Rehabilitation Tips For Our Otherworldly And Long-Lost Guests'.”

As Winter kept pushing me along and making me walk, I allowed my mind to wander.

About a week ago, I'd got hit by sudden wave of homesickness. It's not like I hadn't been experiencing it before but it never felt so overpowering before. I used to be so more antsy. I used to count days and actually not care about what I sounded like to the ponies. I'd let them move me whenever they pleased because I knew that it was soon. I'd be gone. Returned. So sure that I would be heading back home any day now with so many stories to tell my friends, my family, anyone who would listen.

The silly tales of trying to communicate with the short horses and their neighing and whinnys. The weird food. The weird creatures and their whole weird world.

I was so full of myself.

To anyone at home, it would sound like a drug-induced dream but it wouldn't matter. All they would have to do is listen. Comprehend. Then speak back to me as a human. As a living, comprehending, smart when necessary, person. As Horace Mount, college kid and regular guy... Regular-ish guy.

I tapped the translator. A blue collar with a silver gem fastened in the middle. It sat securely around my neck, plush and soft. Moving along with me as I turned my neck as I rolled my shoulders.

Officially, the translator was called the UFC, the Universal Friendship Communication device. It served the dual purpose of teaching me the Equestrian language while translating my words back to the listeners. In theory, really. Despite the initial bugs of the translator, the trouble with it mainly being that it only took a word for the translator to start rambling for hours at a time. And the words translated on my end were long, repeating lines of nonsensical words.

It made the whole experience of arriving here feel so surreal. So safe.

Whatever came out on their end engraved itself in the minds of the ponies that watched over me. It made them think of me as adorable. For weeks, I thought ponies typically greeted each other by patting the other heads. Rubbing their bellies whenever the mood struck them. Impromptu snuggling fests in the park were common. Snacks came and went. And kidnappings went unnoticed for the most part. It was awkward for me at first but as they say, 'when in rome, why am I wearing a top hat?'

Twilight Sparkle tinkered with it upon noticing that I did have the mental processing power prowess of maybe three squirrels. I'm being generous here. It was probably only two squirrels.

Okay, maybe one-and-a-half squirrels.

It was around the time I started learning the pattern in the nonsensical string of lines, the particles and hang-on words used to open and close a sentence. What I learned had nothing to do with the modern Equestrian language. Possibly it was a old variant that died out of use but it proved I was capable of using my head. If I could understand a fraction of a sentence, there was no way I couldn't understand the actual sentence.

I imagined that the thought process fueling this upgrade to the translator was, 'Ooh, what if he finally responds to his name? It will be so cute.' Using a gem from a place she called The Tree of Harmony as the conductor of the translating spell to refine it. The UFC was sent to new heights, quickly mastering and determining with accuracy of the words and tone from the ponies.

On my end, it floundered.

While I'm able to understand Equestrians more or less perfectly, the translator can't do the same for me because of how it was made. It has something to do with its obsession with harmonizing everything. Beyond all things, beyond who it was invented for i.e. ME, it wants a harmonious bond to occur between me and the pony I am talking to.

In other words, it got spoiled.

Soaking in the rays of good will and naivety from me hanging around ponies before I became aware of what they actually thought of me. The UFC can and will do anything to make that pony or griffon or dragon to like me enough to form a bond... But it also wants it to come from my end like the good old days and I'll never give it to it. Never. The UFC can read my internal mood and say things I never meant to say aloud or horribly misconstruct but it can never have my spirit.

Winter kept on talking, switching to walking by my side while her tail kept me close. I caught bits and pieces. She chatted about her fellow scribes, the current laws being passed in the courts, and of course her supervisor, Feather Fine. The few members of the castle staff on this floor milled about, hardly sparing a glance. I think I have an idea where she's taking me and seeing my free time dry up before my eyes, I resumed my destiny.

"Horace."

"Horsey."

"Horace."

"Horsey."

Comments

[Xenomorpher]

Oh boy, a translator that enforces harmony chats. I can imagine that being annoying for discord!

[The Dead Account]

"My translator is broken."
"I don't speak words good."
"Goddammit."
"Gosh darn."

[ConsciousCode]

This is kind of heart breaking...

[Apocryphal Frost]

So...has he even tried to work around it? Maybe draw pictures. Or point at the translator and shake his head. Anything? Try and give some clue that the translator isn't working other than saying it?

They know he's speaking through a translator, right?

[Seether00]

Why can't he draw pics or write?

[Regina Wright]

5889873
How so?

5890130
5890467
My very long response to both of your questions was lost when I accidentally refreshed the wrong page. I guess it comes with the territory with having too many tabs open. But I'm going to take it as a sign to sum it all up. There are two reasons why he doesn't bother with it. (But this will come up in the third chapter.)

One: The translator has its own agenda and works fine on his end (translating sounds into words, words into words that he can understand coming from an english-speaking background and so on). But on their end, it only does it vocally. Not going into the specifics of the great divide that comes in with being a equine species, the translator has more to work with on their side than to his. Among themselves, the ponies have a hard time learning symbols between the tribes because of how the other writes. But when in doubt, they can always talk to each other.

Horace has lucked out for now but he's been sabotaging himself more than he thinks.

Two: Have you ever watched a video where a cat opens a door by jumping on the door handle? A dog howling 'I love you'? A hamster that can sneak into a bowl of cheese curls with the Mission Impossible theme song play? Imagine those animals could talk but for the longest time, they sounded like the dog I mentioned? You respond to them as you always do, pet and call them cute. The pet might make more sounds at you but the translator says, "Pet me! I need love and affection."

Sigh, I should just make a blog post. BRB.

[ConsciousCode]

5890662
It's nothing to do with disappointment or anything. Anon's situation just gives me feels. If that wasn't your intent, it might just be for personal reasons.

[Regina Wright]

5890694
I'm happy that you feel feels. Let me know that I'm heading in the right direction!

[The Well Dressed Ninja]

I'm sorta dissapointed you didn't work out something similar to this into the story...

Translator: "I WUV YOU!!!"

[lord baron]

5889245 honestly, imagine if you had that and tried to talk to other humans.

all trapped, intellectually, only able to signal for attention, not able to transmit ideas, and if you try to communicate ideas, the translator gets it wrong, it'd be like your every other sentence is replaced by something a 3-year old would say.

jeezus christ, how horrifying

[HIEfan]

A utterly hillarious fic so far, well done!

[wlam]

“My name is Horsey.” The translator bleated.

This story is utter nonsense, but I can't stop laughing.

[Keve1227]

I'm so worked up right now. I don't know why I got so angry reading this nor at whom I should direct that anger, the ponies who put him in that situation, or him for his lack of effort/drive to get out of it. I can't help but to keep imagining myself in his situation, not being able to express myself properly nor the fact of that inability...

That being said, I really liked reading this short story and it's ability to inflict such a strong emotional response in me. That attests to something.