Sands of Time

by Amaranthine Thought

Prologue 1

…What is this? This feeling…

Slight pain, confusion, a strange fading numbness. A faint, lingering… fear? What… what happened to me?

Nothing… I don’t know, and I feel dazed. What is this confusion?

I open my eyes, and am blinded by the bright sun above. Slowly, I feel the land around me, and feel grass under me. My vision adjusts, and I see green. Trees, bushes, grass, vibrant and strong. A gentle breeze makes the leaves shake, the sun above shining bright. Nothing I’ve seen before, and yet, I know of it all, as if told of them in great detail…

I push, lifting my head, and look down. I see paws.

…

They are mine. But…

The knowledge, the use, it is missing. As if I am newborn, new to a body and form. I don’t even know what I look like…

I shift one, and feel the leg under me. I have four I think, and they feel… stiff. As if I’ve been lying still for some time. It’s happened before…

Why do I know that? Never mind.

I flew a paw, and yell, seeing several black claws slide out with ease. I hear a roar, and yell louder in sudden fear before noticing.

It’s me. That my voice. My… roar.

I had shaken the trees near me. I feel powerful, prideful, but I need to move. And stand up. Noise is worth nothing to me, and might attract unwanted attention…

Like what? I don’t know, and yet, I know I might have done something wrong that will get me hurt or even killed…

But why? Why do I know these things, and yet fail to know why I know them?

It takes time for me to wobble upright, weakness combating confusion for which would cause me to fall back.
Nevertheless, I stand up, and the feelings fade away as I stand and support myself.

I wonder if I am newborn. It makes little sense, considering I know things and I do have a body that at least feels strong and large. The confusion and unfamiliarity I have of myself would be explained by it though…

Who am I? Where have I come from? Where am I? What am I? I know none of the answers, and wonder of them.

Then I shake the wonder from me. I need to learn to live first. Then I can wonder.

I look and see myself. A large pair of wings is on my back, the feathers a dark brown, complementing the sandy color of my fur. Beyond them is a tail, with a little tuft of brown hair on the end of it. I think I have a mane as well, but I’m not sure.

I watch the tail and note that while I can command it, it also acts on its own. Like it has a mind of its own. Interesting.

The wings are exciting. Can I fly? The prospect raises my spirits greatly, and I smile. I feel for their control, and then extend them, spreading them out with ease. They control very easily, and I feel the power behind the gentle motions I am making.

I ready myself and flap. I hurtle through the air, uncontrolled, and scream, not roar, as I go over the nearby trees before crashing back into them.

That hurt. I lie in a bush and groan, giving some thanks that I missed the trees. I need to be careful it seems.

My wings are very powerful and I have nothing to help guide me in their use. Or in the air for that matter. I need to learn, but then, how? Maybe if I watch birds perhaps.

Or maybe I can just walk on the air. Just as likely really. Best to save them for emergencies. Or when I want to again, which shall not be soon I think.

My torso keeps hurting even as the other pains fade. How have I injured myself..? I hear a grumble.

Ah. The pain is hunger. I should have known that, but then, I have just fallen from the sky after waking unknowing of anything. Some confusion is to be expected.

I get up and start walking, stumbling around and trying not to plant my head in some bush or tree. Balance is hard, and doing it in this forest is harder still. I learn fast, but one thing is not good still.

I am making a lot of noise. If my earlier roar hadn’t scared off the prey, then me stepping on every twig and rusting every leaf will be doing so. Hm.

I eat living animals then. I hadn’t really thought about it until I made noise. So, either more knowledge without explanation, or instinct perhaps? If the latter, I should be relying upon that heavily. It might be my best guide to myself, and should keep me fed and safe.

---

I am starving and I can’t find anything!

Trees and bushes are the only things present, and I cannot stomach them, I checked. Curse my inability to stalk! I am likely frightening off anything I can eat with all this noise, yet I can’t stop myself from making it!

I’m hungry! Really hungry and my patience is…

Those berries I see better not be poisonous.

To eat them without also eating the bush they grow on is very difficult. I am too hungry to care, and they are good, but they are nothing. I am still hungry, and they did almost nothing to ease that.

I’m angry and frustrated and covered in leaves and twigs. If only the food would just hold still for me! It would be so much easier! It’s very frustrating to be like this!

However, I do have a great way to relieve frustration, don’t I?

I sit back and roar as hard as I can. An angry, frustrated bellow to help relive my tension.

Something is happening. As I roar, I feel a strange kind of effort in me. I stop, and notice.

The wind has stopped, and everything near me seems unnaturally still. The world around me seems frozen in place…

I press the bush I have just mangled, and see it bend and fail to bend back when I let go.

I do not know what has happened, but I am delighted! I walk through the forest, snapping branches that make no sound, and take no small amount of cheer in moving everything near me and snickering at their inability to reform.

I nearly trip on something, and I look to spot a rabbit, frozen like everything else. Mid run in fact.

It is in my mouth in an instant and I am very happy. It is both satisfying and delicious, the crunch of small bones a delightful sensation in my jaws, its blood and flesh delicious, if not very satisfying. There should be more nearby.

I find a few more, and after eating them as well, my hunger is calmed and I am satisfied.

I start when the wind resumes suddenly, and then wince at the sudden chorus of snaps and whipping sounds. So, the stillness only lasts for a short time, and when it’s over, events held still do occur, all at once.

Thinking about it, that vague feeling of exertion hasn’t faded either. Perhaps it is some kind of side effect, one to warn me that I cannot do so often without harming myself? Not something I would test.

I won’t ever need to overexert that ability anyway.

I want to explore, and see what there is. Curiosity takes hold, and I happily accept its given quest. Besides; daylight won’t stay and I should find some kind of shelter. I should find rocks to den within… Because… something.

Another odd piece of unexplained knowledge, but the want is there. Rocks it is.

I go in a mostly straight line for some time, until I grow bored of seeing nothing new. I glance at my wings, and decide to try flying again. Maybe I could spot something from above, and head that way. And who knows? Maybe I’ll get lucky and figure out how to use my wings better through use.

I find a clearing, and extend my wings, feeling the rush of delight. Flying seems a passion of mine. And yes, even if I only had one flight, made of only one flap, and that had me crash painfully. I have visions of soaring high, perfectly in control of my flight, and want to live them.

I try a few gentle motions, feeling the air rushing around me, trying to tell how my wings work. Then I flap.

I hurtle into the air, and manage to find some vague description of balance. More accurately, enough so I don’t fall, at least not always. I keep flapping, sending me through the air in somewhat random directions.

The forest stretches below me, when it isn’t above me, and I hold my breath as I try to resist the nausea the whirling sights cause. I can just barely keep myself in the air, jerking up and down and everywhere with each flap.

I spot something colorful. It looks like a field of flowers, or possibly tall grass. A final flap has me hurtling towards it, by chance or skill I am not quite sure. With luck, it is soft and not painful to ‘land’ there.

I hit something hard, and feel it shatter under me, dropping me down onto what is also hard and now covered in shattered pieces of the first thing that now jab into me. That also shatters and breaks, dropping me one more time onto yet more hard with yet more sharp things to stick me. The impacts take my breath away, and a sudden rush of dust and debris blind me as pain fills me. I choke on the dust.

As I recover, I give some thanks that whatever I hit broke instead of breaking me, though I am in agony. Definitely not a field of flowers then. Nor grass.

I blink and right myself, standing up and trying to see what I have hit. Most of the pain fades as I lift from the broken… wood. Lots of shattered wood.

In fact, I seem to be in a… cave made of wood? The ground is wood, there are wooden walls, and looking up, a wooden top that now has a huge hole within it. Square holes are present in the walls, glinting for some reason, and many… shapes are nearby. I have no name for any of them, but not everything is wood. Merely most things, and in shapes I have never seen before, nor know the name of.

I look around and spot two small and colorful horses, maybe not as they are rather small, trying to force themselves out of a particularly large hole, currently stuck in... Never mind. They are free now.

They are… ponies, and yet, I know that they should not look like that. Ponies do not come in bright pink and blue coats with extra colors in their manes and tails. They also seemed far too… soft. I saw them squishing when they were stuck, as if they lacked muscles or any toughness. Like one would have the same firmness of overripe fruit.

I am drooling. The pain seems to bring out my hunger, and the idea of biting into one of the colorful ponies is incredibly tempting. Even if they are so strange. I can imagine the tenderness already, and even one is so much larger than the tiny rabbits…

I head to the hole, and force myself free, breaking it a little more open, and look around me, shaking the wooden shards from me. I see a number of colorful ponies, darting into yet more of the wooden caves, and blocking the entries with yet more wood.

There are several of the caves, and each one is oddly square. They seem to have no reason, jutting up from the ground with brown grass covering the tops. I wonder what they are as I head to the nearest and try to force my way inside.

The wood is harder than it looks. I only hurt my head and paws trying to break it, and my claws get stuck.

I see others nearby, and brighten. Then I hesitate, seeing them better.

Two more colorful ponies, each one wearing… armor. Leather armor, another piece of knowledge that denies me how I know of it. And they seem to have spears with them.

I could almost imagine that they are holding them, but they have to have it strapped to them somehow. Maybe with those little leather bindings on their legs perhaps. They hold them pointed at me, and seem to be trying to appear intimidating. It’s almost amusing.

However, I know iron when I see it, and the spears are a threat, even attached to the pony. I must take them as seriously as I can. After all, I might stick myself with one by accident.

This will be very satisfying.

---

My leg hurts. A lot. If you wish to know why, it is because colorful ponies are faster than they look. One of them dodged the first swing. And I do not know how, but it managed to impale my leg. Great pain lances through me with each step, and I am bleeding fairly badly.

It even diminished the heavenly pleasure of the ponies themselves. They are… nothing will ever taste as good. Their taste transcends mere meat, and holds tastes that defy reason. I might grow addicted to them, and I would hazard that the females might be even better meals than the males. However, if the males tend to have spears, I shouldn’t go near them so quickly.

But the sun sets, and more might be coming. I am in no condition to fight more darting, spear holding ponies. I limp onward, and eventually spot another wooden cave, that one more natural.

It slumps, and plants cover it. A large hole in the side allow me access and it is a good size for me. I discover a natural sanctum within it, a place cleared of shattered wood, and lie down there. This place shall be perfect.

I carefully settle myself, and attempt to relax.

---

Pain fills my mind and form as I lay, panting heavily. A burning, horrible pain is in my leg, the spear making it impossible to rest.

I am unable to remove it, futilely attempting to grasp its shaft with my jaws and pull, but I cannot. It is too small, and with every motion, the pain becomes somehow worse. Every moment, it grows worse.

Am I… am I to die like this? Lying in agony in some wooden cave, all because of something that should be prey, and not foe? My thoughts grow weaker, and my strength is failing me… I feel cold…

I hear motion, and look to see a tiny thing come from the fallen wood cautiously. It is another pony, one very small. The others had stood tall enough to meet my lower chest, but that one is less than half that. It is brown, covered in dirt and mud. It seems… oddly weak as well, as if it has not been able to eat for some time. Thin, too thin.

It comes near me and I growl, making it squeak and freeze, but it does not go away. Is it trying to finish me? It reeks of fear, but I see a glint of strength in its eyes…

It comes near again, and I lack the strength to truly growl again. I am helpless as it approaches.

It makes… soothing sounds, and I wonder, what little part of me is able to wonder in this agony. It reaches me, and looks at the spear in my leg. It gently bites the shaft.

I fear, but I can do nothing… What does it intend..?

---

I… I can think again. The agony fades. I am… very hurt, but the pain is lessoning!

The tiny pony has removed the spear from my leg, and even now, tries to stop the flow of blood with its tiny body. It emits little sounds, sounds that sooth, sounds that tell me that it is slightly upset.

I only wait and watch until it gets off, its brown now stained red, and feel much better.

I shift, making it start and retreat, off into a tiny den of its own. It peers out at me, large eyes watching as I lie on my belly. The position feels natural and comforting, and I can keep an eye on my front leg like this.

“I,” I begin, my voice deep, unknown to me, but I press on. “I thank you.”

It makes no motion nor sound. It doesn’t understand. It is just an animal after all.

I won’t eat it. It is covered in dirt, and now my blood, and would make less a meal than a rabbit, but first and foremost, it had helped me. Perhaps I know almost nothing about myself, but a sense of honor is within me. It helped, and likely saved me. I should repay that.

I wonder about it though.

Its size suggests immaturity, and seeing it better, it is thin, worn, and ill cared for. Did it have parents? Why was it here, alone? Ponies are pack animals, and yet this one is apart. Why? I feel pity for the tiny creature. It was obviously suffering alone, hungry and dirty, unable to properly care for itself.

“I won’t hurt you.” I tell it, and see it slip a bit farther into its tiny den. No matter. It is only an animal, and perhaps it knows what it needs and wants. It at least seems to have lived on its own for some time. Surely, it can care for itself.

As night continues, it grows cold. Very cold, and I see the tiny form shivering. I mimic it, finding the cold near unbearable, even through my own coat and wings. Perhaps I am sensitive to it?

It seems to see this, and comes from its den again, cautiously, nervously. I purr suddenly, surprising myself and it; I didn’t know I could make those sounds. It is calming, to both myself and it, and it comes near me to rub a hoof against my side.

I am… not truly sure how it is now nestled against my belly, a wing draped over it, but that is what is. I can feel its tiny warmth against me, and the lingering pain of my wound fades with its presence.

And even so cold as I am, one tiny part of me is warm, and something within me is warmer still. I find rest soon.