Of Hooves and History

by Ahmad J Charles

Hooved Encounters

Setting up camp felt weird. Any time you’d go camping, the process of setting up a site took place during the afternoon in preparation for the night that would follow. Here I was propping up a tent and arranging blocks of firewood as the rising sun’s rays pierced through the trees. While most people would be stretching awake, eating breakfast, and rushing off to work, I had to get some proper sleep. The little nap offshore had helped, along with the pills, but it wasn’t sufficient. I needed proper sleep if I was to do any exploring. I ate another granola bar and drank a bottle of juice. Canned soup or oatmeal would’ve been better, but I’d have to light a fire for that, and getting it up to temperature would take eons.

Three hours later, at the midpoint of daybreak and noon, I arose from my slumber, still groggy thanks to the calming birdsong in the trees up above and the lapping waves below. The sunlight was much stronger and knocked the senses back into me. I sat up, packed my food into a secure critter-proof container, and opened my bike bag.

While assembling my mountain bike, I began to formulate a plan. I didn’t know whom these town inhabitants were, but figured they’d at least be friendly people courteous enough to provide some clue as to where things are. Boy, was I going to be proven wrong on one level.

I changed into a fresh clothing, slipped on some grippy sneakers, and stuffed a coin pouch, wallet, and my keychain into my pockets. Then I clicked on a helmet, hopped onto my bike, and pedaled through the trees in the direction of the town. My hair was a little messy, but a quick finger combing did the trick.

The forest felt familiar yet peculiar at the same time. Likely it was something I couldn’t see, because all my eyes could focus on were noticing signs of human activity – footprints, rock formations, the like. Yet there wasn’t any, which was odd given how the town was literally adjacent to the forest.

“Seriously, has no one ventured through these trees before?” I asked myself, swerving to avoid a squirrel and hopping over a log. “I guess they’re too comfortable with urban life to enjoy nature on a higher level.”

Despite my soreness from the crash, my legs and the bike’s higher gears made mincemeat of the forest undergrowth, and by ten a.m., I made it out. The trees started being sparsely apart, and bumpy ground gave way to short grassland. The further I pedaled, the more scenic the landscape became. Butterflies danced amongst the grass as I ascended a hill. It felt like being in the English countryside, only abruptly cut off by the sea on the right.

My eyebrow twitched at the sight of a large building atop a larger hill. It was half-stone brick, half steel and glass, like a corporate business’s headquarters. Next to the small town up ahead, it felt rather out of place. Now two things were driving me down the hill and towards the next one: I needed to know who and what was a need for such a humongous building next to a little town, and more importantly, where this town was. While the coastline stretched down far out of sight, this could still be a large island like the Dominican Republic or Cuba.

“I wonder if there’s a nice restaurant to stop at before I can find…”

The words died in my mouth as I reached the top of the second hill. From up here, I could get a close look at the town and its inhabitants, walking about, entering and leaving stores, going about their day.

They weren’t people. Instead, they were covered in soft, bright colored fur, had large, expressive eyes, and four hooves.

Not even one human could be seen.

“Are you sure you’re not dreaming?” I asked myself sternly yet dumbly.

I pinched my cheek again until it hurt, then shook my head vigorously. Okay, I definitely woke up to reality in that tent. Taking out a scrap of paper and a pencil, I traced my route from the campsite and tried to figure out the coastline. I’d seen it at the start of my bike ride, but only briefly. If I was in a new world, I might as well try to map it before starting a history quest to discover how it came to be, and all the civilizations that existed throughout the past millennium. Such a prospect sounded very exciting, alongside needing to figure out why there were miniature, big-eyed, talking horses in a seaside town.

Whichever way I looked at it, I needed to meet these hooved creatures and get some answers. There were just a few things I didn’t consider.

Stuffing the pencil into my pocket, I pedaled down the slope until I came to a tree with a three-way branching – a good way to remember it. I securely locked the bike to it, and walked the rest of the way down. As I neared the road another reality check came: this town’s buildings were built to its inhabitant’s scale, or three-quarters of that of a human. No wonder it looked small from afar.

Setting foot on the stone road, I casually strode forward, trying not to internally freak out at all the furry hooved creatures around me. Externally, they clearly felt the same way. A mare grabbed her young colt and jumped behind a barrel. Groups of friends and couples made a beeline for the nearest doors. There was utter chaotic pandemonium.

“Wait!” I called out, but my extended hand only served to frighten them even more. Most just took off down the street, pushing and jumping. Amidst the chaos, two worrying things caught both corners of my eyes. A bold stallion with a badge – likely the town sheriff – had just rushed out of a building and triggered an alarm… and near a lookout balcony, another group of townsfolk were dispersing. One filly was lagging in the panic. I tried to calmly wave at her, but she just screamed and ran off in another direction… straight towards the sea.

No, no no! I cried out. Nope. No way an innocent kid is gonna die on my watch. And that sheriff was much further away than I was.

I rushed as fast as my legs could carry me to the railing. At the last moment, I threw my whole body forward and swung my arms around the little filly, cradling her as I fell to the ground with a thump, my legs precariously swinging over the edge.

For a brief moment, the filly’s eyes met mine, and I gave the most endearing smile I could pull, and whispered softly.

“It’s okay. No fear. Just misunderstanding.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the sheriff stallion’s jaw literally hit the floor. He stood like a statue, shell-shocked at the scene. I rose to my feet, wincing from the extra injury I’d likely inflicted from the leap and fall.

“This body can’t catch a damn break…” I muttered, slowly shaking my head. “Gonna need some more Advil when I got back to the sub.”

At this point, several of the townsfolk had now gathered – including the little filly’s mother, who was in tears at her reunion with her child.

I held my hands out and up, before giving a message that hopefully would be effective.

“Please. Be calm. There’s nothing to fear.”

Some of the colts and fillies cowered a little, so I gently lowered my hands and leaned back slightly with open legs, hoping to look less threatening.

“I know. I understand your fears. I am nothing like you. Two legs, versus four. Very tall and muscular, compared to short and thin. But it’s within here that makes you and I the same.”

I pressed a finger firmly to my chest, giving the softest smile I could form. Before any of them could respond, I continued, keeping my voice clear and assertive.

“It’s perfectly okay to be scared of things you don’t understand. I’ve travelled hundreds of miles across the sea and encountered things that did scare me. But how did I survive? Controlling my mind and heart. I had a feeling inside – a feeling of wanting to understand and investigate. And that feeling overpowered the panicked emotion within. Through listening and communicating, my fears were subsided.”

I gave a long pause to let them all soak in my speech, letting my vision drift gently over the crowd of ponies like a soft breeze. Most still wore faces of concern and suspicion, but one stood out. She had an apricot-orange coat, an off-shoulder braid, and wore a satchel bag with a star symbol on it.

“Where did you come from?” she asked.

“The sea. My name is Aiden, and I’m a human – that’s the term for my species – of many types. Historian, archaeologist, explorer, engineer. How I got here is a long story, and a big question I’m trying to figure out. In fact, that’s why I’m here in the first place.”

The orange mare’s eyes glowed with fascination, and I cocked an eyebrow. “And I’d be glad to share my story. Perhaps it might shed some light on the quest for answers.”

Already geeking out, the orange mare stepped forward. “I’m Sunny Starscout. Welcome to Maretime Bay, where there's a surprise around every corner! Would you like a smoothie?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I love fruit.”

The crowd dispersed, and Sunny and I headed off to a nearby food trailer. Now the town ponies looked in awe or concern rather than fright. It was glad to see. Hopefully they’d all come to understand me in due time. With such a small population, word was bound to spread like wildfire. Still, I knew I needed to work more on building trust – and Sunny would be a great start.

Author's Note:

Rewrote the second half just before midnight. Hope it's better.

Here's a quick size chart for my story's fanon (not 100% accurate):

Comments

[StarzGecko]

So far its been nice I like the scale you got

[Viatorem]

I pinched my cheek again until it hurt, then shook my head vigorously. Okay, I definitely woke up to reality in that tent. Taking out a scrap of paper and a pencil, I traced my route from the campsite and tried to figure out the coastline. I’d seen it at the start of my bike ride, but only briefly. If I was in a new world, I might as well try to map it before starting a history quest to discover how it came to be, and all the civilizations that existed throughout the past millennium. Such a prospect sounded very exciting, alongside needing to figure out why there were miniature, big-eyed, talking horses in a seaside town.

Well, he got over the shock quite fast

Then again, the last chapters had stabling the main character as someone’s with experience. So it does make sense that he can keep a cold head.