• Published 11th Nov 2012
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Love and Tolerance - Final_Draft



The definition of tolerance is simple, so what happens when the world is flipped upside down?

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Tolerance

Love and Tolerance
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic © Hasbro & Lauren Faust
By: TOO S0BER

--***::: Chapter 6 :::***--
Tolerance

Awkward.

I stared at Dan and he stared back. Me on one couch with Marcus, Ashley and Shelby while he sat on the opposite, likely trying to be as far away as humanly possible while remaining in the house. Judging by the scowl on his face (which he almost always wore, he was what some parents might describe as one of them), I could tell that whatever Dan was thinking wasn't good.

I found myself thinking about our relationship as younger and older brother. Things were fine for a while, maybe even good, some several years ago; the three of us played and laughed, and shared a bond akin to what my friends and I had now. But as he aged and started into his teenage years, Dan simply became... unbearable. His cynicism grew, as did his obsession with darkness and angst, wallowing in a self-imposed depression. Why? I couldn't comprehend it. Often I pondered whether he thought it made him feel 'cool' or something; like he was too good for the world or maybe even the opposite. Everything he was, and liked, now reflected in everything Dan possessed. Music, clothing, art, just... everything reflected the most undesirable traits in a person.

Dan's lips curled into a half-sneering smile, “This is too rich...” my own frown deepening. “Sam watches girlie ass shows, and becomes one of the stupid characters. Amazing, truly.” Twitch.

I glanced at Shelby, sitting next to Marcus next to me. Her bright smile had disappeared and she stared at the tiled floor, twiddling her thumbs. Even though I didn't have to worry about her repeating our rude and thoughtless brother's language, I still deeply disapproved. But what could I do? I mean really do? I was older than him, yes, but I wasn't mom or dad; since Dan never listened to me before, he definitely wouldn't now. Before, whenever he got really out of hand (before I moved out), I could somewhat intimidate my younger brother into calming down with my size and muscular build. But now...

“It's not like I chose this Dan,” I deadpanned, keeping my gaze steady.

“Oh, I know that.” he replied, the insipid smile deepening. “It is just too funny that you're a freak now.” Dan explained as though he were demonstrating basic math to a retard.

On guard, I braced myself. I wasn't going to play his little game. Dan wanted a rise from me, to get me upset, angry, whatever. Unfortunately, that's how he got his kicks, making others feel like shit. Mentally I looked at Ashley and Marcus, thinking whether or not Dan had any friends at the high school he attended, with conflicting results. It made me feel sad, despite myself, that he likely didn't have any; or if Dan did, they'd be just as messed up as him.

Strength in numbers, I sighed aloud, letting the world disappear from my gaze for several moments. I felt Marcus' hand on my shoulder. Bless him. Then felt a warm shudder as Ashley's hoof joined it. I thanked them both with a smile. Opening my eyes I looked at each of them. The gray mare to my right wore an apologetic smile, like she wanted to say sorry for every cruel word that dripped from Dan's mouth. Marcus looked stern, grimacing at my little brother; if Marcus was a violent person, I'd think he would have wanted to deck Dan. Honestly, I kind of wanted to... just a little. Instead the man in shades appeared disappointed.

A contemptuous chuckle drew my attention, and gaze, back to the predominately black dressed teenager. “Oh that's so cute.” Dan spat, mocking a cute voice. “You even let her braid your hair. Adorable.” he noticed my mane, the majority that flowed off the back of my head braided into a ponytail.

I heard a sniff a short ways to my left, and my ear twisted towards it, followed by my head as a whole not too long after.

A shadow fell over my eyes as Shelby sniffled softly. Ever since I moved out she's had to deal with Dan. As he got worse and worse, the teasing grew and grew. Whenever I could, I would force him to stop. I'm ashamed to admit that I couldn't prevent a lot of Shelby's tears, instigated by Dan's cruelty. It was impossible to keep an eye on them twenty-four-seven, but I felt that was just a horribly lame excuse.

“I don't care how you talk to me, Dan,” I said, feeling my gaze turn more irritated. “but leave little Shelby alone.”

“And what are you gonna do about it?” Dan immediately replied, challenging me. The mirth that was in his voice disappeared. “What can you do about it?” that almost sounded like a threat, and I bristled.

“I can imagine that hooves hurt more than fists,” my rebuttal, eyes narrowing dangerously. Ashley's hoof applied a little bit more pressure to my right shoulder; but I hardly noticed. I wasn't going to let Dan intimidate me, or let him torture Shelby anymore.

“Oh that's a riot.” Dan pretended to be shocked, raising a pale palm to his forehead. “Would that mean you hit like a girl too?” Huh?

I cocked an eyebrow at him, something not quite clicking.

“If that's your failed girlfriend whats-her-name there,” Dan pointed at Ashley next to me. “you look similar enough for me to guess.” a shiver ran up my spine, he'd figured it out like Shelby had (well, sort of). I drew up a few mental images of the equinized Ash and me; come to think of it, our figures were very similar. “You're not even a guy anymore are you.” it wasn't a question.

I bristled from multiple wounds. The oldest one, Ashley rejecting me, being the more painful by far. I knew I thought I was over it, but was I really? Still, reminded every time we did anything together, anytime I saw her, every time we were together, those feelings would resurface; and the knowledge that they wouldn't be a reality. That old stone came to say hello from my stomach.

“Now see here,” Ashley finally joined the conversation. “that is quite enough.”

“You haven't changed one bit,” Marcus added sourly.

Dan seemed to waver, now that he was outnumbered.

I sighed, but still felt that support from my friends. “Yes, that much is true. I'm no longer a guy.” I finished, closing my eyes again. Perhaps this was a good thing. If I wasn't at terms with this yet, then it needed to happen sooner or later; and for this, sooner was better.

The uneasy frown became an annoyed grimace as mocking laughter reached my eardrums. Honestly, it was no surprise, but it brought that blush back to my face as my anger slowly grew. At some point my eyes had opened and I glowered intensely at my other family member. I found myself no longer caring how or why Dan turned out this way, and now all I wanted to do was buck his teeth in for it. Understanding why the misfortunes of others brought him such joy was beyond me; however that wasn't on my mind as I leaped off the couch and hovered just in front of him.

When it donned on Dan that I was now very close to clobbering him from above, the laughter stopped and he stared up at me, sinking a bit into the couch's cushions.

“Nothing to say now smart-mouth? Huh?” I loomed over him, using as threatening a voice as I could. Truth be told though, that was easy. I waited a few moments, and when it became clear that Dan really didn't have anything to say, I added, “Didn't think so...”

A few seconds more and I let myself drop onto the tiled floor with a loud clop.

The first apparent thing was the burning between my shoulder blades, feeling like someone was holding a red hot fireplace poker there, twisting it into me with malice; accompanied by those giant ant things in the fourth Indiana Jones movie. I'd once burned half my hand with hot grease, it hurt like hell, but this was far worse. So much so that it nearly brought tears to my eyes. And I felt immensely tired.

At some point Dan must have thought up something to say, probably misinterpreting my grimacing in physical pain as emotional, and said some snide remark. In truth I didn't hear specifically what he said, but subconsciously it must have been clearer than bells. Recalling the other's faces was the only clue I had to go on. Subconsciously it registered in my head and I reacted. I lashed out with a rear hoof, and connected. This time I was in enough control to intentionally aim low; and Dan's slouching posture gave me a clear target.

I turned back to see the effect.

Dan had closed his legs tight, palms squished between his thighs, clutching the assaulted jewels. His face squinted in a pained grimace, letting it be obvious that he was in intense anguish. With his limbs drawn taught, it didn't take long for him to lean over, and then fall, onto his side on the couch in a fetal position. He groaned softly, a sweat breaking across his brow.

Serves you right punk, I thought as I stared, pitiless at him.

That should be the last time he insults a pony when he's standing, or rather sitting, right behind them. I'd been hit in the balls before, and it's no fun. My anger clearing, I almost felt sorry for him, emphasis on almost. Even so, I never balked into a fetal position like he did now. Either he was a virgin to the experience, or hooves really did hurt that much more. It occurred to me only now that I might have injured him more than intended, but that thought quickly expelled; he was already recovering and I took what time was left to quickly trot to the other side of the room, rejoining Marcus and the others.

Over the next sixty seconds or so, Dan had regained his composure enough to sit almost upright. Occasionally, if indignantly, rubbing his crotch. The whole time since he was able to open his eyes, he glared at me and I glared back. Probably should be glad mind-reading wasn't one of the freaky additions of the ponification, because I likely would have been horrified at whatever Dan was thinking right now.

“I hope I'm not interrupting anything...” an older female voice drew a twist from my ear, as well as everyone's attention.

In the kitchen doorway that lead to the garage stood an older woman clad in standard black and gray gym clothing, decent in shape, said clothes drenched in sweat. Pink ear buds of an mp3 player in her ears. Long brown hair, matching mine, drawn up in a ponytail, eerily similar steel blue eyes gazing back at us. She surveyed the array of people, contemplating.

Shelby jumped off the couch, rushing by me so quickly that I nearly tipped over, and hugged the woman's legs.

“Mommy!” she shouted, that gleeful smile that I love returning to her face (at least I noticed it when the dizziness wore off). Mom had finally arrived.

__---***::: <o> :::***---__

She was finally home.

Introductions went by quickly. She recognized Marcus of course, but we had to explain that the gray and orange equines were Ashley and myself. Mom seemed not to believe it at first, Marcus and I tensed, ready to catch her if she started to faint. Luckily that didn't happen. Instead she went into generous host mode and offered everyone drinks while Marcus and I explained everything, starting with me waking up in the morning. Much to my relief, Dan stayed quiet the whole time, sinking into his own little world; even when we got to the part where he came home, omitting the argument that ensued only five minutes ago.

“Quite the interesting tale,” Mom sipped on some fresh coffee, digesting everything she'd been told. “well, it could be worse.” she finished, then her eyes widened as some thought occurred to her. “You didn't try to drive did you?”

“No!” I answered quickly, waving my forehooves. “No, of course not! I can't even see over the dash, much less work the pedals at the same time!

“Oh, thank the lord,” she sighed with relief. “I heard on the radio that there was a lot of car accidents happening around the whole city, and I worried that you may have been in one of them.” she downed the last of her coffee as though it were hard liquor, then headed into the living room. I hadn't moved from the floor since she entered the house, and craned my neck to look up at my mother as she stood right in front of me.

She knelt, coming almost to eye level with me.

Mom wore that grimacing worry that crossed her visage every time she thought something bad might happen. I stared into her eyes as they switched back and forth, peering into my own, searching. Was this it? Was this some sort of judgment or conclusion? My heart thumped faster at the thought, scared more now than I had been the whole day. More scared than when Marcus and I were dealing with those police officers. It's funny how parents can have that effect. It was only a few seconds, but it felt like it had dragged on for hours.

Then her gaze softened and became warm. I'd almost missed it when her bare arms wrapped around my neck and the breath I was holding was pushed from my lungs, her hug thrusting me to her chest. Inexplicably I felt my lower lip quivering, and I rested my head on her shoulder, staring down at the white tile with my ears plastered on my head. After a moment longer, I tentatively brought my forehooves around my mother – and winced. They were too short to wrap completely around like they used to be. Instead of being irritated at my shortness, like I had been the rest of the day, I just felt sad. So much had changed.

She pulled away from me, and I immediately felt a sense of abandonment. Until it dawned on me that Mom was still holding me by the shoulders. I sniffled – wait, when did I start crying? I hurriedly tried to wipe the tears away, but she beat me to it, feeling her slender hands on my cheeks. I lacked the strength to look back into her eyes. I was too afraid of what I'd see. Would it be fear of what had happened to her son? Would it be judgment of the fact I wasn't even her son anymore? As odd as it sounded, would she be angry about what happened? I just didn't know – not sure if I even wanted to know. I feared that if I did find out, that it would destroy me. After all, if one couldn't find solace in the love and comfort of their parents, then what was the point of even going on?

Involuntarily I shivered, thinking about the potential of that dark path of thought.

Against my will, a warm hand gently forced my muzzle up from the floor, drawing my eyes. I thought about clenching my eyes shut, not feeling ready for this at all, afraid of what I would see. Curiosity got the better of me, keeping the eyes open. I stared back at Mom's face.

All uncertainty and fear washed away like so much dirt down the shower drain. Mom's kind eyes showed no hint of apprehension, anger, or resentment. In fact, they looked... unchanged; still holding that soul warming kindness that had quieted a crying Shelby so often, years ago. Her smile eased my heart in such a way that only one other had ever done. A hand ran through my mane, eyes still glued to hers, and then Mom spoke.

“This doesn't change anything Samuel,” her voice soothing. And then I caught the subtle word play on my name (I swear, was everyone able to pick out the gender change!?). Mom used the male connotation, and that reinforced everything, making all the difference in the world to me. “you're still my son, and I still love you,” my heart melted, and she finished with. “and I always will.”

I smiled, having the forewarning of tears, “Thanks,” I choked. “I love you too.”

Mom smiled a little more, and then pulled away for good this time. “Now,” she said, standing up, still staring at me. “do I want to know what Dan said to deserve a kick in the you-know-where?”

Thud.

Nothing gets by her. I hate mother radar.

___---***::: <o> :::***---__

A few minutes later Ashley and I were in the spacious master bedroom that mom and dad both shared. Both of us laid down, side by side with our hooves curled underneath, on the California King sized bed. The room was fairly standard. A pair of dressers, one for each of them, with vanity mirrors propped against the far wall opposite the bed. All along the walls were painted leaves and grape vines; an online purchased decoration that Mom was keen on decorating the house with. The only room that didn't have similar decor was my old room, although I bet that's changed since I moved out some ten months ago. Oak end tables flanked massive bed. An executive desk junked up with a computer and office papers, folders and paper clips sat in the corner. The only thing that really felt out of place was the pair of locked and secured filing cabinets in a corner; holding things related to dad's work. For a little bit, I found my eyes holding over the metal cabinets... and the high tech electronic locks and number pads on them, curious as to what was contained within – and wondering if any of it was relevant to what was happening.

“Ooohh!” a distressed moan dragged my thoughts back to my frantic mother, running this way and that in the master bath and walk in closet. “What did I do with it!?” I almost asked what she was looking for, but stopped myself when I realized I likely wouldn't know where it was... whatever it was.

She paused in the doorway, staring at Ashley and I on the bed, and proclaimed for maybe the tenth time, “You two are so adorable!” Ash smiled and nodded with her eyes closed, I blushed and looked at something in the corner – oh look, a dust bunny. As Mom hurriedly continued to scurry this way and that, gathering the materials she needed.

After 'explaining' about the argument between Dan and I, we added in the original reason why we even came here: to see if mother could use her sewing skills to modify the clothing that Marcus used to smuggle us both to the car the first time. She eagerly agreed, and ushered us both to her room. Initially, as I was being shoved through the door, I looked back at Marcus as though to say 'help me!', this was going to be a fashion bore-fest. He just smiled and wave, mouthing the words 'have fun' at me. Curse him. Dan retreated to his 'lair' as we referred to his room.

“A-ha!” Mom exclaimed, coming back with a large, plastic box with latches and handles opening it on the floor. She pulled out a small notepad and tape measure.

Then she asked Ashley and I to stand side by side on the floor, we obliged. Staring hard, her fingers to her chin in thought, Mom began muttering seamstress lingo to herself as her mind processed what needed to be done; likely adding possibility this or idea that. I glanced over at Ashley, and she seemed to be waiting for an opening to express her own ideas. Inwardly I sighed, was it possible to die of boredom? I was certain that would be the case here, as I didn't even like sitting still for haircuts at the barber shop. Ugh.

Minutes went by as mother ran the tape measure over almost every square inch of our equine bodies; she even took measure around my wings and Ashley's horn, sparking conversation that would blessedly pass the time.

“Well I'd say that officer was definitely out of line,” Mom agreed as I flexed my left wing back and forth slowly for her. She mentioned something about it being important for the vests and... blouses? Please tell me I heard that wrong. Mother went on to mutter about flexible material for stretching, pushing her reading glasses on her nose, jotting down notes.

“Yes he was,” I deadpanned, grimacing at the wall.

“And magic!” at some point she'd made her way to Ashley, briefly staring at the horn on her gray head. “I can hardly believe it.”

“I am still not sure I do,” Ashley said, again making her eyes go cross from trying to stare at the bony appendage. I struggled and failed to stifle a laugh – then winced as mother thwacked my forehead. Now Ash laughed. No fair!

“Hold still you,” was her excuse as she stretched out my foreleg, taking measurements.

Another few minutes and dozens of measurements and notes later, Mom appeared to finally be done as she stood back up to her full height. Tapping the pencil against her lip, she then began scribbling who-knows-what, again muttering fashioner nonsense to herself.

“Well that ought to do it ladies...” mom paused and looked at me apologetically. “sorry...”

I just rolled my eyes and shrugged, giving her a wan smile. Which she returned warmly.

“All right then,” she continued as though it didn't even happen. “I have your measurements, and at least a little bit of both of your clothing. I'm certain I can create something smashing; or at the very least convert the old rags in a few days.”

A few days!? Wow, that would be great! I voiced as much and she smiled. I turned to leave, satisfied. “Thank you so much!” I reared and hugged her as high as my tiny body allowed. Stupid short shortness!

“I also have many ideas for some new outfits for you...” she said with a mirthful grin. Should I be worried? I think I should, since I can't read minds.

Ashley now chimed in, “Oh, I have some too! We must discuss!” I playfully gagged and they both practically shoved me out of the room.

“Well,” I said, faking indignity as the door slammed behind me. “I never.” It was a good laugh, I could hear them both snickering through the door, and totally worth it.

I trotted my way back over to Marcus, whom had been busy braiding Shelby's hair into a ponytail matching mine. I cocked an eyebrow at him, mildly surprised; he just shrugged, made what I guess was supposed to be a puppy dog face, and rolled his eyes. Oh, I see, works on you too huh. Must be cheating little sister powers, it has to be.

My ear twisted towards the other end of the house to the steady beats of rock. Dan was playing his music loud again. I certainly didn't miss that little detail when I moved out. It was always annoying, and I had no doubt he would get hearing damage; I liked mine loud too, but not that loud, and with headphones so as to respect other people's tranquility. Unfortunately not everyone has the same taste in music. I briefly thought about jumping on him about it, then working my way towards an apology for that low blow. However, something in my head said that would be a bad idea. Likely he was still fuming over it, and only seemed calm because mother was now home and he'd have to watch himself. It's a shame that it took the presence of one of our two parents to make him do that, instead of doing it automatically himself.

Even the rambunctious little sister was more mature than the emotional teenager. It was still a ways off, but I hoped that Shelby wouldn't turn into another Dan. I doubt anyone could take two of them. With that thought, my gaze turned back to the little blond headed girl. She smiled and waved playfully at me, which I returned.

“Aaaand, done,” Marcus proclaimed, finishing that last braid of the ponytail.

“Thank you!” Shelby squealed, already playing with it. She ran away, launching herself into dad's big easy chair that was way too over sized for her, and continued watching the cartoon show.

“Hey Marcus,” I whispered, turning towards the human now. “got a sec?”

“What's up bud?” he leaned down in his seat, coming close to me, peering over the rim of his shades giving his full attention.

“You still want to go to the movies, right?” I asked.

He blinked a couple times, considering the suggestion he had made before learning either of his friends were transformed into ponies. Marcus scrunched his lips and brow into a frown, mulling this over before asking, “Are you sure you and Ash would want to?”

I nodded. Really, I couldn't just go hide under a rock. Sure, the immediate introductions were done. Friends know I'm a pony? Check. Family knows I'm a pony? Partial check (dad still doesn't know). And work would come soon enough. After those few days were up, everyone would already know about the, apparently worldwide, event. Who knows, maybe a number of my co-workers were transformed too. Besides, those carrots were starting to wear off and I owed Shelby an ice cream; the last thing I wanted to do was incur her wrath, remembering that tackle from earlier!

“I'm sure I want to,” I emphasized. “I'll ask Ashley when she gets done. But what I wanted to ask you...” I paused, and stared over at Shelby as she kicked her feet, watching the cartoon obliviously. “... is if we can take Shelby with us.”

Marcus cocked an eyebrow, unsure what to think of this. He asked simply, “Why?”

“Because,” I explained. “she needs some time away from Dan. Did you see how she got all quiet when he came home? And how she was upset? Also I'm worried that when we leave, he'll take out that crotch shot on her.” giving him my concerned face, glancing over my shoulder again at Shelby. “It wouldn't be the first time...” I added darkly.

It didn't take long for Marcus to deliberate, as he almost immediately said, “Sure. But I guess that means we can't see that R-rated movie you've been waiting for...”

R-rated what? What was he... oh.

That blush returned and felt like it extended down to my wings! That, and I'm sure my pupils shrank. “S-Shut up!” glowering at my trouble maker friend. There was no R-rated movie I was interested in, he was pulling my leg.

I know of I've said this before, but I swear he is evil.

___---***::: <o> :::***---__

It took longer than expected, but Ashley finally got everything sorted out with mother on the ideas she would like to see done. Mom must have been happy about it too, since she looked eager to get started as the four of us departed in Marcus's SUV, heading for the mall and the movies. Despite feeling rather confident, I still had some apprehension about going into public. If Ashley hadn't been equinized like me, I probably would have said outright no, too terrified to set hoof out the door. But since that wasn't the case, everything felt pretty good.

Getting there was quite the challenge though. Just like Mom had mentioned earlier, there was practically a car crash at every intersection. Detours here, detour there, reroute here and everywhere! It was starting to wear on Marcus, the frustration building by granules in the usually calm African American. Fairly soon, we were a little lost, all three of us trying to figure out where the hell we were and which direction we needed to go. I nearly facehooved when I remembered that my smart phone had GPS, so we pulled over and I handed (would that be hoofed?) over the phone to him, describing where the program was.

With the automated voice of the GPS guiding us back to the light, everything calmed down significantly. The constantly updating traffic watch kept us clear of all the crash sites. I counted them as we passed. Before too long the number jumped into the double digits, quickly becoming dozens and scores. Most were just minor fender benders, unlikely to so much as break a nail; but others looked exceedingly bad. Cars so indented that they looked like some monster had taken a massive chomp out of the side, other cars were squished almost in half by the forces at play, and there was even one multi-car pile up. I grimaced at the possible number of dead and/or injured. And this was all over the country? Or even better, the world? Needless to say, I stopped counting.

I decided we needed more information, and switched on the radio. There was no way this wasn't going to be top line news for days at least.

“... and now for some updates!” the radio broadcaster announced. Good, if I heard him say 'music' I probably would have screamed. “It seems like these freaky pony things have popped up everywhere. From Las Angeles to New York, Seattle to Tallahassee, they are everywhere.” I didn't like this guy's tone on how he was presenting the situation. He was making it out like it was our fault. “Initial estimates place the transformed at twelve percent... minimum. Some sources claim that it's as high as twenty five, but honestly I find that hard to believe.

“And if that's not food for thought, what about the economy?” that was a good point. I perked my ears to listen, and Ashley poked her head between the seats to listen further. “Many of the ponified, yes that's right, they're ponies, like from that little girl's show...” facehoof. “... have been let go from their jobs as they are unable to perform. As a result, everything everywhere is understaffed. Many are protesting the actions, feeling like they weren't even given a chance to try and keep their jobs, calling it 'discriminatory' and other such nonsense...” I bristled, how is that 'nonsense'? I really didn't like this guy. For a moment I wondered if CNN had forced that pony anchor – mare – to quit. Somehow I doubted they would fire her. Being transformed like that didn't seem to impair her ability to speak, and that's all broadcasters do is talk, occasionally shuffling papers.

“Although I cannot imagine why,” the radioman continued. “there are some employers whom are giving the freaks a chance.” okay, so some people aren't being completely heartless. That's good. Now if only this guy would stop being such a prick. I contemplated retrieving my phone and calling the station, demanding to know how this guy could be so negative about this, but decided to ultimately let it drop. He wasn't worth the effort.

“And most aren't even normal ponies, as if that were a plus,” that tone was eating at me, I could feel it. “there seems to be three, even four, different kinds. Some of them have wings, called 'pegasi', and others have, get this, horns on their heads.” Ashley shied away from the radio, sitting back in her seat. “They're called 'unicorns'. Good luck fitting in freaks.” I could have sworn smoke was exiting my ears as I willed the radio to explode in his face.

“That's it!” I fumed, punching the power on/off button a little harder than I should have. “There's got to be a regulation or law or something against talking like that over national radio!” my chest heaved, snorting through my nostrils.

“That guy is just a big meanie pants,” Shelby added in, pouting in her seat. “he shouldn't be so mean.” I smiled at her, completely agreeing.

I glanced over at Ashley, whom was just staring absent-mindedly outside the car window. I thought about saying something to try and comfort her, but what could I say that would help? The damned radio had just announced to the world that she was a freak! Literally! Actually, me too matter of fact, but right now I was too mad to care. But poor Ash looked like she might break down in tears.

Marcus focused on driving, trying his best to keep us out of the casualty listing, but even so his face for an intense grimace. Hopefully, the radioman's words wouldn't poison people's minds too much. The world had enough racism and problems before this, it didn't need anymore.

Of course, the hell did I know? People flock to idiots like him on the radio, as though they were allowing themselves to get poisoned. I gritted my teeth, thinking about the future while staring at the anomalous lightning-bolt shaped thing in the sky. Things couldn't possibly get worse, right? But even as I thought that thought, I must have contracted some of Dan's cynicism. For as I sat in my seat, still fuming over the recent announcements, I thought: people are stupid.

Arrugh! Suddenly I felt like I needed a drink.

The car trip didn't last much longer, but it went on in silence. We got lucky and managed to get a parking spot near the front entrance to the food court. Already I could smell the plethora of food coming from the doors and the nearby pub restaurant. And now my stomach decided to speak up, demanding sustenance. Marcus helped Ashley and Shelby out of the SUV, while I had a little practice and confidence at just jumping out; again successfully landing on all four hooves, even if it was a little jarring. I bet I could use my wings as a form of parachute to soften the landing. Have to remember that for next time.

We were maybe in the parking lot for possibly two minutes before we saw another soul in the sea of cars parked in the sun, their owners clustered somewhere inside the mall doing who knows what. A couple of teenagers looked in our direction, and just stared. They were too far away to pick out the features specifically, but I had a feeling it wasn't anything good.

Great, I thought, rolling my eyes. Here for less than five minutes, and already garnering stares. Absolutely wonderful.

I'm sure this trip will go swimmingly.