Independence Eternal

by Leafdoggy

Missing

Fluttershy is always grateful for how close she lives to Rarity. They visit each other quite a bit, and the proximity means she can take the back roads to avoid the crowds. On some days, like today, she can even get lucky and have the whole street to herself. She skips excitedly down the empty road, her mane flowing gently in the soft breeze as silent homes stare down at her.

I hope she doesn’t mind the intrusion, Fluttershy thinks as she walks up and knocks on Rarity’s door. The sound echoes out and back to her, hollow and empty. She stands patiently, the wind whipping past her as she waits. She waits, and she waits, and she waits. She waits far longer than any pony ever should. Eventually though, politeness loses its grip, and Fluttershy gives the door another sharp rap. Well, hopefully she’s at least awake, she thinks. I would feel just awful if I woke her up.

After another egregious wait, Fluttershy purses her lips. She must not be home. I should let her know I stopped by. Digging through her bag, she pulls out a notepad and a pencil, and writes a note for her friend.

Dear Rarity,

I’m so sorry I missed you. I had stopped by to visit, and maybe borrow some tea, but it seems you’re either away or busy with something else. If I interrupted you, please accept my sincerest apologies. Either way, feel free to come visit today if you would like to, I’m free all day. Don’t feel obligated to bring the tea, I can always get my own, you don’t need to worry.

With Love,
Fluttershy

After quickly double checking the letter, Fluttershy pulls out a tac and pins it to Rarity’s door. There we go, she thinks. That should be good enough. Oh, but now I have to clean… Fluttershy sighs and trudges back home to prepare for the potential visit.

---

“Angel?”

Fluttershy presses herself against the floor to look under her bed, finding nothing but dust and cobwebs. Where is that bunny, she thinks. It’s not like him to not eat his food.

Back downstairs, Fluttershy stares into Angel’s untouched food bowl. She first noticed it after she finished cleaning. Picking up her various clutter had taken until well after noon, and she had seen no trace of the little rabbit. It’s not generally that worrisome if he stays outside, Fluttershy trusts him to stay safe, but it’s strange that he wouldn’t come back for his lunch. Worried, she steps outside and calls out again.

“Angel! Please come back home!”

A few minutes of impatient hoof tapping later, Fluttershy decides she can’t sit still any longer. What if he’s hurt, or stuck, or scared? She can’t just leave him all alone out in the wild. So, she grabs some supplies and sets off into the nearby forest to search.

Dry leaves crack under her hooves as Fluttershy pushes through the underbrush. The forest is, as always, overgrown with all manner of grasses and vines, but Fluttershy has never been especially keen on the idea of clearing out a more defined pathway. She prefers to move as the winds take her, rarely ever taking the same route through the forest more than once. A pathway would only get in the way of that.

Today, though, she ignores the urging of the winds. She moves with purpose through the foliage, pushing aside branches and digging through bushes, searching for any trace of Angel. She does her best to put herself in the mind of a rabbit, moving methodically along from berry bushes to wild vegetables, searching out valleys in the mountains of green, the natural pathways that a small creature would be attracted to follow. Any small hope or clue to follow.

The silent woods engulf Fluttershy as she delves deeper in. Towering, dominant trees forming walls in every direction, delicate flowers unhindered by wildlife forming massive pools of color in the distance. Eventually not even then wind can penetrate the thicket, and Fluttershy is left utterly alone. The occasional crunch of a twig snapped under careless hooves echoes away and back again, the only sound to disturb the stillness. The slow creak of wood resounds throughout the world as a tree far, far away bends in the wind and shows its age, a sound normally masked by the chitter of animals. Despite being wholly devoted to her search, the utter quiet slowly begins to dawn on Fluttershy.

She stops in a small clearing and takes a look around, absorbing the setting for the first time. She peers between trees, but sees no movement from stags or boars. She gazes towards the canopy and finds no trace of the busy traffic of birds. She pushes aside a log, sunken into the earth, and finds only mud, devoid of its usual microscopic ecosystem.

Fluttershy purses her lips. This seems to have gone past just Angel. She sets off again, a new destination in mind. As she walks, she looks around somewhat frantically, searching for any sign of wildlife. No signs present themselves. She walks alone, stuck with only her thoughts, her steadily growing anxiety.

Subconsciously, she picks up the pace, and before long the world around her changes. The dense forest floor becomes clear, the trees more uniform, the canopy carefully trimmed. Aside from the occasional flowers or weeds, all that marks the ground here are fallen apples, left for any wandering animals that may pass by. The most notable change, however, is the sudden shift in color as dots of red fill the leaves stretching off to the horizon, marking the entrance into Sweet Apple Acres.

The shift in scenery calms Fluttershy enough that she realizes how worked up she’s gotten. She stops, breathes, works through her thoughts. Calm down, Fluttershy, she tells herself. Panic doesn’t help. Just be calm, you can do it. Slowly, methodically, she gathers herself. She lets out a sigh of relief as her heart rate drops and she can focus again.

Once she’s ready, Fluttershy sets off towards her friend’s home. She cocks her head, listening for the rhythmic thunk, thunk, thunk of Applejack gathering a harvest, but nothing meets her ear. Nothing but the wind, finally returned but hollow, empty. She frowns and sets her eyes straight ahead, choosing to focus on her destination.

As the trees break, the familiar sight of her friend’s home reveals itself. A humble, rustic home, large but unassuming. The sort of house that was clearly once much smaller, but the steady growth of a family necessitated the steady growth of a home, and constant extensions and add-ons gave it the cobbled together look it has today. It’s cohesive, and not unattractive, but it makes it clear that its architects were more interested in function than form.

Seeing no movement in the many ramshackle sheds and barns that litter the property, Fluttershy makes her way up to the Apple Family home. She steels herself, tries to shake out her worries, and knocks on the door, but as her hoof meets the wood the door gives way, sliding open with a groan. Nervously, she peeks inside, but sees nothing out of the ordinary.

“Hello?” she calls out. “Applejack? It’s um, it’s Fluttershy. Is anypony home?”

She waits on the porch for a few minutes, anxiously biting her lip, but when she gets no response she reluctantly pushes the door open and walks inside. The home that greets her is dark and dusty. It does look lived in, clutter scattered around, imprints in the furniture, but it doesn’t quite look presently lived in. Fine particles float through the air as Fluttershy moves, and her steps leave a trail of prints in the dust behind her.

Pushing the state of the home out of her mind, Fluttershy moves on. She passes through the living room, which looks utterly alien without a crowd of ponies in it, and into the dining room. This room is much of the same, darkness and dust, except that on the long table sits a half eaten plate of food. Fluttershy frowns as she eyes it. Well, um… they should really clean up after themselves better, she tells herself.

She closes the gaping door of the refrigerator as she passes through the kitchen and stops at the base of a staircase. “Hello?” she calls up it. “I’m really awfully sorry to intrude like this. Is anypony up there? Please?”

With somewhat shaky legs, she makes her way up to the second floor. She hasn’t been up here very much before. In the Apple home visits are always a group ordeal. Seeing one Apple means seeing them all. Fluttershy is okay with that, she’s happy to spend time how her friends would like to, but it does mean that there’s rarely reason to see the various bedrooms.

Walking onward, Fluttershy peers into the rooms as she passes them. First Applebloom’s room, messy but empty. Then Big Mac’s, as organized as Applebloom’s is unorganized, but similarly vacant. Finally, Applejack, her door closed. Fluttershy knocks, just in case, and waits.

When she finally walks inside, she does so with unease. Sorry, Applejack, she thinks. She looks around her friend’s cluttered room. The walls are completely covered with memorabilia, hung with no rhyme or reason to their placement. Well used farm equipment hangs overlapping framed pictures, crooked shelves sit filled to bursting with all manner of knick-knacks. Fluttershy is able to find every birthday present she’s ever given Applejack in some crowded corner or another. It makes her smile, seeing the haphazard care put into it all.

The floor sits covered with various tools, dirty clothes, and pet projects. Muddy boots, tangled rope, a barrel mid-repair. Fluttershy has to step carefully over it all to make her way around. She tries to look in the closet, but its contents threaten to come spilling out as she starts to open the door, so she decides against it. She looks over a small desk in the corner, covered with paperwork for the farm. She checks the bed, unmade, sheet shifting around in the breeze from the window.

Nothing, she thinks, plopping down onto Applejack’s bed. Where in the world has everypony gone? Did I miss hearing about some sort of trip? Hmm… Oh, shoot. She hops up off the bed, an embarrassed blush filling her cheeks. I can’t believe I was just sitting on her bed like that. I should really know better. Being in a weird situation is no excuse for rudeness.

With a nervous hum, she gingerly closes Applejack’s door as she leaves. She walks outside into a late evening sun, the warm light giving the farm an earthy glow. Wind whistles through the trees, beckoning her back into the realm of nature.

She thinks things through. Maybe she already knows about the animals? I should go check Twilight’s house next. If they’re meeting to talk about it, it will probably be there. She walks away down the main path towards Ponyville, then doubles back. Oops, almost forgot to leave a note. We can’t have Applejack wondering who was here while she was gone.

Comments

[WorkNLurk]

This story intrigues me. I'll keep track of it! Good work so far!

[Leafdoggy]

9744828
Thanks! ^w^ Hopefully it doesn't disappoint.

[Replica Knight]

Love these types of stories so I'll read this

[Replica Knight]

Empty farms is a big nope to me

[Cyonix]

Interesting start! I'll put this on my watchlist

As a side note though, the first chapter seems a little too long. Like, there's a lot of unimportant stuff that could be cut from it, and it drags the story out longer than it should be in the introduction.

Also, when did your descriptions get so good? Those parts in the beginning were fricking beautiful!

[Leafdoggy]

9745602
Yea I can see where you're comin from about the length. One of my biggest weaknesses has always been and will always be how long-winded I am.

& thanks for the compliment! ^w^ I've been puttin a lotta work into this story (I wanted to finish the rough draft before publishing any chapters so I wouldn't feel pressured into writing faster than I should) and as it turns out, writing a story with almost no dialogue ends up giving you a lot of practice with describing things. Whoda thunk it.

It's helped, though. I honestly feel really good about this story. Here's hopin other people end up agreeing.