The Forest of the Golden Abalone

by Unwhole Hole

Chapter 11: The Needs of the Snails

It had begun to rain. The fire had died down and gone out, although some parts of it still burned with strange reddish light. The parts where the mucous Snails had found continued to burn in spite of the rain. Around the camp, the magic circle glowed with crystalline blue light. Beyond it, the snailwalkers waited, babbling and gibbering—but their sounds were overwhelmed with the distant and haunting sound of a singing snail. A sound Fluttershy found equally disturbing and beautiful. Even if it was, in fact, singing badly.

She sighed, staring out into the darkness.

“You can’t sleep either?” she said.

Snails shifted in the small lean-to. “No,” he admitted. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” She looked up at him. Although he was next to her, he seemed to be cowering in the snail-nibbled blanket that he had stored in one of his backup camps. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head. Fluttershy nodded, allowing him his silence—but after a few moments, he spoke.

“I’m scared.”

“It’s okay to be scared.”

“No. Not like this.” He looked down at the book he had been trying to read, its surface kept dry by a tiny, weak shield spell of his magic over it. He closed it and filed it back with the others.

“I’ve been scared most of my life.”

“And I never have been.” He let out a long sigh. “That’s why I came out here. It’s so easy, with the snails. It all makes sense. It...never really made sense there, you know?”

Fluttershy nodded. Of course she understood.

“You have friends.”

“And I have my work. But I’ve been out here for so long.” He looked at her. She did her best to smile.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, everything is going to turn out all right. It always does.”

“Except when it doesn’t. Snips was in the hospital, and I didn’t even know...and now things are getting bad here.” He sighed. “Don’t even know what I’m complaining about. I can’t do anything about it ‘cept the things I can. I guess…”

“What?”

“I haven’t had anypony to talk to for a while.”

“I know I’m not the best pony to talk to, but...I know how you feel.”

Snails smiled, if only slightly. “Do you still live in Ponyville?”

“Sometimes.”

“Still with Discord?”

Fluttershy stiffened. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said. “Please.”

“Sure, sure.” He paused, then sighed, lowering his face into the moss. “Sometimes I wonder if I should have married Silver Spoon when I had the chance.”

Flutershy’s eyes widened. “Wait, wha—”

Lighning flashed across the sky. Fluttershy squealed, both from the thunder and from the sudden illumination of seemingly hundreds of snailwalkers doing vigerous, silent squats around the camp.

“You’re afraid of lightning?”

“And also the thunder!”

“Doesn’t your dad work at a weather factory?”

“And I always hated the lightning room! The only one worse was the place where they make the rainbows…” Fluttershy shivered.

“I’ve been stuck by lightning...six times? Probably?” He shrugged. “Sometimes it erases a few memories. The problem with a horn, don’tchaknow. That’s where it aims.”

“And you're still scared of ancient ruins?”

“Aren’t you?”

“I’m scared of almost everything. You know that.”

“Except the god of chaos.”

“Like I said. Not talking about that. We’re on a break and I’m leaving it at that. He knows what he did. And I’m not about to forget.” Fluttershy sighed. “It’s weird.”

“Discord? Yeah, I knew that. I think we all did.”

“No, not him. us. You and I. We lived in the same town for almost our whole lives in hardly even talked once. It's just so...strange.”

“Not really. You were twenty something by the time I was ten. Now you’re forty-something and I’m...well...your age? But backward? Huh…” He trailed off. “Math is hard…”

“Don’t you have a PhD?”

“Yeah, sure. Not in math though.” He contemplated for a moment. “I dunno. It’s weird. How does it get smaller when it gets bigger? Time, I mean.”

Fluttershy did not find his musings especially profound. She did not, however, think he was trying to be profound. Rather, he seemed to just be voicing what he probably would have said anyway, either to himself or to the snails of the swamp-forest. Which Fluttershy herself had done, although not just to snails, for so long. Before she had met so many friends. The animals were good listeners, and some could talk back—but there were limits. Snails were beautiful creatures, but Fluttershy doubted they gave good advice. Or at the very least their advice did not come quickly.

She, though, had no better advice to give. But she could listen. And she liked to. It made her less afraid—because she needed to be the big one now. Like when she had been a foal, with her brother. Sometimes, even she had to be the strong one. The snails were counting on her—and so was Snails.

Comments

[FanOfMostEverything]

How does it get smaller when it gets bigger? Time, I mean.

Because it keeps coming at the same rate, but you always have more of it behind you, making the input seem that much smaller.

Fascinating glimpses of where various players are between acts. Especially the Flimflams and whatever's watching them. Looking forward to more.

[Opium4TmassS]

I would like to know what Discord did.