Millennial Heartstrings

by The Apologetic Pony

Chapter 6: Carrot

Still deliberating, I began feeling out the nub of my still outstretched left wing, looking for a suitably minor feather. I kept an eye on Charlie the whole time: he was unblinking. I found one, but still feigned searching, hoping there’d be a lapse in the brown Equines resolve, but there was none.

‘Give, me, a feather.’

His request now a heavily emphasised demand, his look became fairly disturbing. What was determination: transformed into killing intent; the usually wholesome wind, hollowed, driving one to relentless compliance. I shivered, swearing he was able to see the feather-coloured liquid with me, the one I’d meticulously spilt from its innocent container. Oh, by Luna, he could! For he was gawping at it now, watching it fall as droplets onto lush ground. And for an instant, I saw his pained eyes again, but, no. They were cold, unwavering, housing unstoppable resolve, nor pain anymore. His senses were not my own, they could not see what I saw, because, it wasn’t there. It wasn’t there. Just, here. He wanted a feather --- right. I could do that. I don’t know why he did, but reason was abandoning me too.

Acting on mechanical instructions alone, I picked off a feather I’d located long ago at the base of my tiring wing, (it had been outstretched for quite some time). The cogs of my brain evidently whirring, so as to cope with the, (allegedly) nonexistent blood. As such, I only release my beak’s grip where I perched, letting the feather float to the ground. Well, I assumed it floated down, I daren’t not tilt any unnecessary senses within the range of illusionary, lest it become more than illusionary. I desperately sought any sound from Charlie, he’d give justification, my effective saviour, from this self-constructed torture machine of mine.

Peculiarly, he remained silent for a lengthy amount of time, even though I sensed he was below me; it wasn’t not like Charlie to do so. I was utterly bamboozled by the whole situation; left wondering what in all Equestria was going on.

‘I’ve seen one of these before.’

With that, my head could snap down to see him, no longer holding the fear of what only existed in one pair of eyes, because, by focusing on somepony as lovely as he, all else was belittled. It drew a line between what was and what wasn’t. He appeared to be eyeing me again, fortunately the terrifying intentions were gone and I finally allowed my wing to go limp. But I wasn’t out of the woods yet, (I have to point out the irony here) my emotions were very much subject to vast fluctuations. In fact, they tended to carry more influence upon me when I was around Charlie in general. Like he-- I'm not sure how to phrase this... It were as if, he stole, my rationality from me, altogether. But the statement itself hit like a really big, brick, whatever it meaning was to be.

‘Those feathers, they were a phoenix's, weren’t they?’

What feathers? What gain was there to be stating what was clearly mine, as mine? Unless... Oh wow. Incredible if he was referring to, those feathers -- how unbelievably sharp of him.

Seeing my gradual realisation, he said ‘Yeah, those are the ones I mean, alright. I didn’t know what to make of my kind of recognition of them, from ever since I first saw you. To think, they were from those dusty old records of unsolved cases... amazing. What a bizarre case that must have been! Important enough for such a majestic creature like you to get involved, but not important enough to have an explanation found.’

Muttering to himself, Charlie briefly glanced at the fluffy object in his hoof once more, not entirely succeeding in the foundation of belief in the truly remarkable coincidence.

‘Maybe, they were yours!’ He made a loud snort, which quickly turned into another eruption of full blown laughter. Unfortunately, I could only awkwardly chuckle at his paranoidly accurate statement, yet, he didn’t notice my absolute perturbedness. I thought for a moment if I’d get the chance to learn the name of the enigmatic mare I’d saved, but cast the hope aside quickly. Still, my view of Charlie swelled ever more, so much so, it verged on pure admiration. More than I’d ever given any member of my species. More than any I’d given to any other species. More than, ever? An inexorably naive thought crossed through me. Ah, who the hell was I kidding -- idiot. Like all those other ridiculous things, I put it at the back of my mind, somehow finding space in the crowded place.

I only acknowledged, that he wore no earmuffs, likely having refused their comfort many times to have gotten so far. He was smarter than anypony I’d ever met, heralded empathy in the highest of regards and was gleefully communicative with an ageless bird, who didn’t talk back. Forgiving the one who nearly killed him in an instant; instinctively. On the run from the sharks whose ocean was civilisation; acting like he was free. The source of my guilt, but also the remover of it, forcing some of my haunting memories into temporary lapse, as well. Charlie was an alcoholic, brown and possessed wisdom beyond his years, beyond any mortal’s years, in truth.

When he’d silenced his sweet laughter; his ruffled mane stopped bouncing, he took it upon himself to thank me for the feather, before stowing it in that plain rucksack he’d purchased at Dodge. It looked pretty good on his back, the cerulean blue complemented his brown coat and like-hued mane handsomely.

Abruptly sitting on his rump, he told me, ‘I don’t think I can walk another step, long day getting out of the town, and all.’ He paused, turning his head to remove his rucksack ‘It should be easy to set up camp though,’ Charlie laid the handy pack on the ground, which landed with an alarmingly loud thud, considering it wasn’t on hard ground. ‘Managed to get my hooves on some fancy stuff’ That grin returned for a bit, as he revealed the rucksacks contents. Out of it came: a tinderbox, a rugged hatchet, a large blue water bottle (filled) and a few carrots. I flew down, just for the sake of having the new experience of nudging a carrot with my beak, watching its uneven roll along the ground. So, he looked at me, and said rather defensively, ‘What? I like carrots!’

Comments

[Ceraph]

"Out of it came: a tinderbox, a rugged hatchet, a large blue water bottle (filled) and a few carrots."

*Cough* RPG *COUGH*