What's a Dodo to do?

“Hey buddy.” My bunkmate called out to me from above. “Whatcha reading?” Sighing, I put my finger onto the page, closed the book, with my finger inside, and rotated it so that Rob could read the title.

Rob was the same age as me, 17 years of age, slightly shorter, and a bit more portly. His biggest beef with the camp was that they chopped his black dreadlocks off, leaving behind, naught but a buzzed dome. Whenever he passed by the Camp’s barber, he glared at the poor worker with venom in his green eyes.

“The Evolution of Homo Sapiens to Homo Avis” Rob made a disgusted face as he read the title and went back to whatever he was doing. probably reading his “books” again, if you could call his obsession of Homo Sapiens and their attempts to fly with wax wings and such to ‘fly’, books.

With a groan of complaint from the bunk’s wooden frame, Rob leaned down again, and posed another question, thankfully, before I had opened the historical text again. “What do you think that BW will have us do for practice today?” this was actually a good question. Ben Winger, was the head coach of the camp that we were in, Camp FEATHER. We’ve only seen the man one time, at the beginning of Camp, for a speech he made to the entirety of campers and faculty. He was not easy on the eyes, let's just say that...

“Rob, I have no idea. Yesterday was ‘Endurance’, ‘Speed’, and ‘Technical’ flying. those are the basic types of flight for Homo Avis, so, I can say in all honesty, I have no idea what the Angel of Death has planned for us.” I replied to my energetic and somewhat impatient roommate.

Before I could say anything more, a bell rang out loud and clear to the campgrounds. the bells were life here at camp FEATHER. one bell meant ‘time to check the schedule and go to class’ two bells meant ‘emergency, get to a safe zone as quick as you could’. Rob and I tucked our books into our leg bags, and left our cramped, drab, ‘apartment style’ dorm room. As we headed toward the first floor of the building, we passed by a few of our year-mates, and joined them as we all headed toward the announcement board to find out what torture we were in for.

“Ugh! I got ‘Target Practice’. What a pain. I’ll never get that paint off my feathers... What d’ you got, buddy?” Rob complained, unfurling his left wing and pulling it in front of him, hugging his primary feathers protectively for a moment before releasing his wing and folding it back behind himself. Scanning the scrolling board, I spot my name on the screen, and wait for my exercise.

Dillon Flyght-PHYSICAL

I had a physical for my afternoon session, which could be a good thing or a bad thing, depending on how well you maintained your wings at camp. If you maintained your wings well, you got a short exam ,and got the rest of the session to yourself, as a sort of reward for diligence to maintaining your health. if not, well, you spent the rest of the session going over how to properly maintain and fix your feathers, which was not very fun. Thankfully I had kept up with my “preening” as I jokingly called it, and I was a shoo in for a little bit of R&R.

Walking outside into the fresh, crisp, afternoon air was a relief. I had always enjoyed a book as much as the next person, but traveling as a passion of mine, and whenever I traveled anywhere I made a point to try and stay in contact with whomever I net on my journeys. (Which is the reason I am keeping this log in a story form, gotta keep this interesting)

As I took off from the dorm rooms, I unfurled my wings and lifted off the ground with a few strokes of my wings, gaining enough altitude to fly above the building's rooftops safely.After a few minutes, I reached the administrative building on camp that also housed the Med labs, and infirmary. Landing in the designated area, I made my way on foot to the registration desk to check into my allotted time with doctor Moltz, the on duty physician.

Dr. Moltz, was a nice man, he was in his early 50s, and was lucky enough to avoid male pattern baldness, and was good at his job. He was a kind soul, told through his grey eyes. We actually lived next door to each other away from Camp, so when I was little, he was always the one to patch me up after I hurt myself in some way, shape, or form, trying to get my wings to work.

"Hey! How's my favorite Dodo fairing?" He joked. He knew that the phrase ruffled my feathers, and that's why he insisted on calling me that ridiculous name. I responded by looking over his shoulder and pulling one of his wings out and examining his wing for a moment. It wasn't in any shape to fly, all mangled and misaligned, and he was calling ME a dodo?

"Pretty good, Moltz, pretty good." I responded before I undid my button down shirt, starting with the back wing slots, and then the front buttons. I wanted to get back to my book soon.

After unfurling my right wing at his request, and letting Dr. Moltz search the white feathers that adorned the newest addition to the human body, he made a few marks on his papers before tugging the other wing, unfolding it and repeating the process.

A while after the exam, the doc released my wing, and after allowing me to put my shirt back on, and sat me down.

"Dodo, you know I care about you right?" Moltz asked. Something was wrong, and I knew it. So I nodded and asked the doctor to go on. Moltz sighed, before continuing. "I have a favor to ask of you, Dodo. I have a new invention that I think could give a flightless like me the ability to fly again." This got my attention. Flightlessness was the greatest loss in today's society, next to being blind, deaf, or the like. Flight was integral in all aspects of everyday life, from gym class to the Olympics. From a delivery job to office work as a go-fer.

"Dodo, you need to know. I care about you like the son I never had." He put his hand on my shoulder. "Seeing you smile is important to me, but if you want to help me, you have to know. This is dangerous." He finished and gave me a small backpack that would fit in between my wings.

"If you want to help, after this session, meet me at the dorms after dinner. I'll write you a pass to skip roll call." He called to me as I left, pack on back, book on leg, and pass to a session of reading in the dorm’s comfortable lounge on the roof of the building.

After returning to the dorm's lounge, I sat my seat on a sofa, and tried to continue reading my book, but by this point, it went into some mumbo jumbo about political ramifications of new laws regarding Homo Avis. Politics has never interested me, so I placed the book back in my pocket and placed the pack in my lap.

After looking over the pack, which was little more than a cylinder. Hardly suitable for flight, when I noticed a small latch holding a cover closed. Releasing the clasp, a panel opened, and a small LCD display read 'charging- 0% of safe levels' paying no heed to the display, I continued making notes in my head to the appearance and fit of the pack on my back while the panel was open on my back. The open panel caused no impairment to my wings, and seeing no better alternative to using my free time, I decided to find a chair nearby a window and fall asleep in the sun.

A while later, I was not woken by a bell, but by a whine. Looking to the panel next to me, what I saw scared me featherless.

'Charging-178% of safe levels'

Instantly awake, I grabbed the cylinder, flew outside and before I had the chance to throw it away from the dorms, it suddenly stopped whining, before exploding my face. Well, I guess I'll have enough time to read that section of political nonsense in my history book if I live through this.

------

Light assaulted my face, and I began to wake up against my will.

"This isn't the dorms..." I muttered to myself before realizing that this wasn't any building on camp. None of the buildings were whitewashed at camp. They were all this sickly grey color, if not moldy. Looking around the room, I saw my shirt sitting on a chair next to my bed. Looking down to my chest, I saw bandages covering my body mainly my right arm, which was holding the pack, coincidentally, and my chest. Whoever wrapped these bandages was an expert. On the chair was my history book and my shoes.

Stretching my wings was a good way to wake myself up. After sitting on the bed, and retrieving my shirt and shoes, I stood up and walked to the door connecting the room to the hallway. Peeking my head out the door and finding no-one, I walked down the hallway to the right. After a bit of wandering, I happened to see a small, lilac horse with a pink mane (in a ponytail. Huh) exiting a room. On the horse's head was a small nurse's cap, and on her flank was a cross with four red hearts adorning it.

"What?" I said aloud, which, apparently was loud enough for nurse horse to hear. Turning around, she saw me and grinned a pleased smile and started yammering in some language. After a few moments, she beckoned for me to follow her with a hoof somehow, and whilst confused, the best course of action was to follow the nurse. Nodding, I took a step toward the nurse. When she saw me following, she faced forward and led me to a new room while continuing to yammer on, where another horse was waiting.

This horse... no these guys were too small. They were ponies. Their ears came to to my chest, and I was 5' 11". This orange pony had a brown mane, and seemed to have seen my wings and stretched out her own.

"A pegasus?" I murmured to myself before attempting to stretch my wings out. The room was small and after a few moments, I folded my wings and the mare, who I am calling Dr. Flight, led me into a deserted hallway and extended her wings again before pointing to me with her hoof. I spread my wings, and sat down, allowing Doc. Flight access to my wings. She searched my wings, apparently seeing if they were damaged, or the feathers were out of sorts, or something.

A few moments later, after being allowed to sit up, Nurse Lily (what? I had to call them SOMETHING) led me to a set of devices, and the ponies were kind enough to demonstrate what each machine did before I was asked to get upon it myself. I guessed that my weight was recorded and my height as well. Then I was taken to a large fan inside a long room. Dr. Flight had apparently followed us and caught my attention before she took off from the ground. She whizzed by the fan, the air that was distorted causing the fan blades to turn. The machine buzzed before a small dial on the bottom turned. It seemed to be some sort of machine that recorded the strength of the wind distorted by wings... The Pegasus brought me over and pointed to where she placed. She then pointed to me and gestured to where she had roughly been. After waiting for a signal of some kind, Nurse Lily raised her hoof up and brought it back down. A starting signal if I ever saw one.

I took off and buzzed by the machine. I landed nearby and walked over to the machine. Doc. Flight seemed surprised. My 'wing strength' was nothing compared to the her wing strength, apparently. If the doc had rated 40%, I rated 10%. She was holding back a chuckle. And I rolled my eyes. Why do you think I was at Camp FLIGHT? for the Accelerated Flight Program?

To my embarrassment, a gurgle of hunger escaped from my stomach and caught the ponies’ attentions. They folded back their ears, a surprising gesture, and led me to a cafeteria of some kind. They led me to the back of the kitchens to a meat locker, and took out two different things, a a fish, and a salad. seeing my options, and considering what had happened to me in the past few minutes, I assumed that the ponies had no idea what I ate, and after grabbing the salad, their ears instantly perked up and hastily put the meat away, to return with two more salads for themselves.

After sitting down at a table Flight yammered to Lily and Flight left the Cafeteria. A doctor’s work is never done, huh?, Lily sat down next to me and hoofed me a glass of water. Nodding my head in thanks, I took the water and placed it next to my salad. The salad itself was simple greens, with carrots, apples, and a few candied walnuts, along with what I thought were petunias. Placing the petunias to the side of the dish, I dug into the salad with gusto, eating the apples first, then the carrots, then the greens itself, saving the walnuts for last. Grabbing the sugar coated nuts in my hand, I pushed the bowl away from myself and took a look at Lily, whose bowl was empty, including the petunias. Her eyes were closed, and she was leaning back in her seat in contentment.

I didn’t want these petunias to go to waste so after putting two and two together to get fish, I poked her, which got a surprising reaction out of the mare,(she opened her eyes and looked around), before I prodded her once again with my index finger, which she stared at, and waved my hand in her face. I pointed to the petunias in my bowl, and made a disgusted face, to which she seemed confused, before I switched her bowl with mine, and nodded to her. Lily seemed
to be ecstatic to see more petunias in front of her. I just smiled as I watched her munch away at the flowers, while I just picked at the nuts that were in my palm. If today’s lunch was anything to gauge the day’s events, I was off to a decent start.

Author's Note:

Woo! Story No.2! Hopefully this pulls me out of my funk of ideas, for Blind Blind, my other story. I wanted to try a different take on the "Human in Equestria" genre, so, here it is! Bye!

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