• Published 2nd Nov 2020
  • 5,596 Views, 265 Comments

Why Do You Speak My Language?! - Soaring

A human meets a horse. They both speak English... sort of.

  • ...

Do You Really Speak English?

Author's Note:

I am not sorry for this.

Here's a link to a Wingding's translator if you would like to follow along. It's the one that I use primarily for this story.

“So, what’s your name?”

I stood there, staring at the horse. It was talking. Talking to me. It was definitely a mare, if her voice was any indication. Her eyes were wide, like those plates that I used to eat off of. She had wings, was purple, and had this crown-thing on her head that made me wonder if she was just playing dress up, or if some poor owner of hers wanted to torture this horse. This mare.

That spoke English.


The winged-horse snorted. “I said, what’s your name?”

I blinked. My name? Out of all things this horse wanted to know was my name? What about the extras? Y’know, this talking mare probably hasn’t seen a pale looking hairless ape before, at least, that’s what science would probably describe me as if I was part of Darwin’s theories.

Wait, why am I thinking of evolution right now? Did David invite me to one of his academic drinking parties again?


I shook my head, flailing my vampire-colored hands in front of her muzzle. “Sorry, got stuck in my head. Y’know?”

Unfortunately, her muzzle scrunched up like my hopes and dreams. “I don’t think I do.”

“Oh,” I said as images of my dignity flew off into the sunset, before they burnt up into a crisp. I took a closer look at the horse. Yet again, she had wings, which was totally different from the horses back home. Was she considered a pegasus? Well, she might not be, as that horn could probably skewer me if I tried flopping on it.

I internally groaned, but externally smacked myself. My forehead probably glowed like Rudolph’s nose, but I couldn’t muster up enough to care about it. I cared way more about why this horse existed, let alone how it talked in English.

Speaking of…

“So, why do you want to know my name?”

She just tilted her head. “Well, isn’t that what you ask anypony when you first meet them?”

My brow had a spasm attack, one that threatened to prepare for liftoff off my face. “I don’t think you ask that to a completely alien species, horsey.”

Suddenly, I heard her neigh. She had snorted just like before, except it sounded like she was angry. Extremely angry.

“That’s not very nice of you to say,” she growled, her voice full of grit and disappointment.

Just like my mother—

“Sorry about that.”

And suddenly, she perked up a bit, her ear twitching. She slowly walked up towards me, talking all the while, “Okay. Just know that I’m a mare, not a whorse.”

“A whore...se?”

“Yeah, isn’t that what you said?”

That head tilted again. I wonder if that crown was super glued to her skull? “No, I said horse. You know, with an h as a starter?”

“An h? What’s that?”

I blinked hard and fast, my mind racing of all the possibilities. She spoke my language, but didn’t know what the alphabet was? What the absolute—

“What? Don’t you speak English?”

“Of course,” she replied, nodding like she totally just said she spoke English. “It’s the most common language in Equestria!”

“Well the letter h is in the alphabet and—”

“What? No it’s not!”

This horse thing stared at me with a face so confident in her words that she thought she’d have to declare war on me to settle it. Little does she know, I studied Political Science and Photography at Turbo Virgin University. That in total should give me a career path with an estimated gross income of like… 21,000 dollars a year. Unless I get lucky and score in as a campaign head…

Y’know, if she asks about that, I’ll just tell her I studied in Astrophysics. I don’t want her knowing about my Only Fans. Then again, it’s not like she’d even know what feet are.

I gave her a smile that I hoped didn’t look like my bottom lip was having an aneurysm, because it sure felt like I was having one. “Then what is it? What does your alphabet look like?”

Her wings sprung out of nowhere, like a glock being unloaded by a crazy crackhead. Each shot was another indicator: her eyes lit up, her mouth frothing like the crackhead she probably is—wait, why she frothing at the mouth?

“Uh… are you okay?”

She sat down in front of me. Her horn charged up in a purple light, before suddenly a book blinked right in front of us, unopened. She gestured a hoof towards it, as if she was telling me to open it, which I totally took the opportunity, my hand gripping onto the corner of the book and flicking it open. The execution wasn’t as cool as I was hoping, the pages flipping around like a terrible catch I got at the pond back home.

Fishing sucked for me.

I blinked away my train of thought and derailed right into the book, which stared at me with the text of…

“Uhh, what is this…?”

“Twilight.” She said it like it was matter-of-fact.


“You still haven’t told me your name,” she droned.

I rolled my eyes. “Just call me Rick.”

“Okay, Rick,” she began, giving me a smile. It was kinda… odd to see her smile like that. Horses don’t smile like that— “So, what is what?”

I pointed right at the text in front of me. “This.”

She looked like a deer-in-headlights, blinking ever-so slowly to make sure she heard me right. “What do you mean?”

Her hoof stomped on the book gently, meeting my hand. “Well look at it! That’s totally not the English alphabet!”

I removed my hand from the book, much to Twilight’s chagrin, her muzzle scrunched up once again. “I don’t get what you mean! Isn’t ✌︎ the first letter in the alphabet?”

I stared at the book. What the heck did “☼︎☜︎✌︎👎︎ 👌︎☹︎⚐︎☠︎👎︎☜︎ 💣︎⚐︎💣︎☜︎☠︎❄︎💧︎” mean?

My voice anchored what little hope I had in her hopes and dreams. “There’s no way you’re serious.”

“Of course I am! Language construction and theory was a sub-minor that I studied in and—”

“A sub minor?”

Her eyes boggled, threatening to roll right out of her skull. “Didn’t you have sub-minors in your world? A minor for your minor?”

I blinked. “I don’t know, Twilight. Astrophysics was way too hard to care about other degrees.”

She gigglesnorted her wings into a twist. “Oh, Rick, my sweet summer foal, that’s something I can do in my sleep. However, language construction is always changing. Just like Friendship!”


“Don’t you know the Magic of Friendship?”

I nodded… slowly. “Yeah.”

She blinked like a broken strobe light at a club. “I don’t think you do.”

“Twilight, we just met,” I began, throwing my hands in the air. “You know that anything that is part of this world is completely foreign to me and—”

“I didn’t know that! I thought you looked like a malnourished Diamond Dog,” she said with a slight tinge of excitement lingering in her words. “I originally thought I’d have to get you some diamonds to eat from Spike’s stash, but I don’t think he’d be too happy that his aquamarine gems were gone.”

I shook my head, not even wanting to comprehend what the hell she just said. Unfortunately for me, my brain wanted to try it, causing a sudden surge of pain to course through my skull. The pounding made me hold my head, hoping that I could get past it by just propping my head up a tad. I wish I went into the medical field.

My brain disagreed, which made me wince. “I don’t even want to know about that yet.”

“Good, Spike will never need to know that I compared him to a starving Diamond Dog. However, if you’re not one of them, then you’re right. You are foreign to us, which means it's my responsibility to document your species. Care to share who and what you are?”

I sighed. I hate Wingdings.