The Kind Heart and the Liar

by xara

The Letter, pt. 2

I think she would have run off if I hadn't been in the condition I was. She appeared so radiant to me that a new sob choked its way up my throat, my eyes shut and I lay my face on my hooves. I despaired, because I knew that I could never, ever speak to her, whoever she was. I wanted to tell her how wonderful her singing had been, making me forget my troubles.

I heard the soft fall of hoofsteps as she flew across the stream and landed next to me; suddenly, she was there at my side. She lay down, her coat pressing against mine, one hoof crossing the back of my neck. Her pegasus wing stretched out and gently touched my back. I didn't know at the time if such comforting came naturally to her, or through experience, or if it was totally out of character, but she gave it to me.

"There, there," were her quiet words. "It'll be okay." She repeated these phrases as sorrow wracked my body.

My first encounter here and I was an emotional wreck. I hope you'd understand, given my experiences.

My sniffling subsided and the two of us broke contact. She stood first, backing away when she sensed I meant to move. I got to my hooves, catching a glimpse of her soft blueish eyes. I could see that her face was tinged with concern, but that came as no surprise. I imagine most ponies in Equestria don't have their first meetings with strangers by seeing them in ragged, tear-filled misery. Embarrassed, I stared off to the side, trying to wipe my face clear with one of my hooves. I hoped my own expression would at least convey a semblance of gratitude, for I could not come out and say as much.

"I... I don't think I've seen you before... " she seemed unsure of where to begin a conversation (not that I could provide one, but she didn't know) after that tender moment. I looked into her eyes again; this time she broke the gaze, shying away. The movement served to focus her on my dropped possessions; she noted the pack I'd let fall to the ground earlier. "Are you traveling? Did you get lost?"

I couldn't say yes. I couldn't nod. I just looked. Most ponies, by this point, would start to get quite unnerved at the lack of response. She was rather attractive for a pegasus; I didn't want to see her face contorted by anger or anything that would ruin what she had done. So I... breathed in the scene, I guess. Her wings, with the feathers still partially opened; her pink mane, flowing down in front of her until it almost obscured an eye; the kindness showing on her face; her graceful body framed by the grass and babbling brook. I made it a picture to file away in my memory, to use later if sorrow overtook me again. Then I resigned myself to leaving before it was spoiled. I turned and grabbed the strap of my pack in my teeth, flinging it up and over until it rested in place. I started to walk, following the water downstream as I had been before.

"W...wait!" she called in an excited tone.

I should have kept walking, I knew it. I should have ignored her voice and galloped out of sight. But something made me pause. My shoulders drooped a little, but I turned back to look at her. The concern was still plastered on her face.

"Maybe you... have to go right now, but... if you wanted a little more company, I could... fix you a hot meal, first?"

I looked at the ground, but having already stopped, I knew my will was breaking. Just a meal, I thought. I'd had the same from other ponies across the land, sometimes with good results, sometimes not, but the prospect of eating something not stolen from a field was appealing. So I lifted my head again, carefully blank in my own expression, and trotted back her way.

The concern melted slightly to reveal a shy smile. She looked towards the stream, and I thought I heard her mutter something like "skip, jump" under her breath. She half-fluttered, half-hopped across the stream, then looked my way again. "I have a cottage down this path," she said by way of explanation, "but the first hoof-bridge is a ways up..." She sounded as if this bit of information might personally affront me.

Well, I had no wings like hers, so that narrowed the options. The stream wasn't particularly deep, it looked only knee-deep, but it flowed briskly and was too wide to jump unaided. I took a tentative step down the bank; thankfully, the water was not frigid, so I had only to advance with care to avoid slipping on the stones that littered the passage. I made it to the other bank without incident, shaking the water off my legs after I emerged.

"It's this way," the mare said, starting to walk, but turning to see if I would follow. I did so obediently, falling into step with her pace.

I watched the path; I could feel her glancing my way. "They call me shy... Fluttershy, that is. I mean... that's my name." She swallowed. "You haven't said... anything... " I still didn't. Believe me, it was difficult to refrain.

Either she grew quiet in confusion or seemed to accept my need for silence, but as we continued down the path she didn't ask any questions. The stream had a few twists; we crossed a small stone bridge layered with mossy turf, drawing closer to the nearby forest. I could easily have followed my side of the stream until I had reached this point, but, well, I wasn't about to speak up on that point. Quite a number of hoots, whistles, and other animal calls came from the trees on either side of us, but the only sounds we made were the little thumps of hooves touching the ground.

We came into view of her home. It was certainly... unique. The path crossed the stream once more over a similar bridge, then wound up a hillside back and forth until it reached the door. Trimmed grass sprouted bunches of flowers all alongside it; puffy little bushes poked out from the ground. Several types of trees grew around the place, but they all shared one thing in common: nearly every branch housed either a nest or served as the hanging point for a wooden birdhouse. The residents were in full view, hopping in and out of both, many of them flying between points on the trees or sitting on a branch, warbling. The cottage itself looked sturdy; it had several windows and other features, but the one that stood out was the roof coated entirely in grass. I raised a mental eyebrow.

She couldn't have gotten 'back to nature' any more unless, well, she had been sleeping in fields and forests as I did, under the stars with nothing but a blanket. We crossed over the bridge and came to the door; it was built in two sections, with both the top and bottom half able to swing out, which the top already was, perhaps for fresh air.

Or maybe to let animals fly in and out. The inside, as we entered, was as remarkable as the outside. The whole place was perforated with what looked like mouse holes or entrances to more avian dwellings. Tiny staircases, ramps, and pathways lined the walls, like a labyrinth affixed sideways. It looked like an adventurous cat's idea of heaven.

No cats awaited us inside, but a rather stern-looking rabbit sat in the middle of the floor, looking at us as we approached, thumping a leg against the floor and holding his little arms crossed.

"Hi, Angel Bunny," said Fluttershy. "This is... a guest, he's going to share supper with us." The little creature pantomimed looking at a watch and huffing. "Yes, I'll start it right away."

"Please, make yourself comfortable," she addressed me. "I'll gather some vegetables and make a nice filling stew." She had a small wood-burning stove; she undid the latch and opened the fuel door, picking out a match from a bowl and lighting it to ignite the wood. As the tinder caught, she spread her left wing and used it to fan the flames until it spread to her satisfaction.

I shrugged off my pack once more, nestling it against the leg of a cushioned couch which I sat down on. She hummed a little tune, picking up a handled pot and filling it with water, then placing it on a stove burner. She started rummaging through one of the cupboards, looking for ingredients.

I must have been more worn out than I thought; I guess I dozed off, sitting on the plush cushions. I startled a bit when I felt a hoof tapping my side; my sudden movement startled her in return. We looked at each other and both let out a little grin and a chuckle.

"Stew's ready," she smiled.

Fluttershy had placed three bowls on the table next to the steaming pot of stew, but only two cloth napkins. I looked at her, then to the bowl; she took my meaning. "It's for Angel," she said.

With a soup ladle, she served a small portion of the meal in one of the bowls, then lifted it up and placed it on the floor a short distance away. The rabbit pet actually looked grateful for a moment. "It's very hot, Angel, be careful you don't burn yourself." She ladled another portion into a second bowl, then pushed it across the table towards me. "You too," she nodded her head before serving herself.

I sniffed the cooking. Smelled wonderful; I could see fresh carrots and celery stalks floating in the orangeish-looking broth, and the stark smell of onion tickled my nose. I lowered my head, blowing steam away from the bowl, and stuck out a tongue to taste the concoction with the tip of it. Ouch. Still too hot. The two of us ponies regarded each other as the stew cooled.

"So... you either can't or won't talk... " she began. I did nothing but watch, and she continued. "But I can tell you understand what I'm saying. I hope this helps before you... you keep going." She blushed a bit, the last part trailing off. I smiled, praying this wouldn't be misconstrued, and the ruddy marks on her cheeks spread a little further.

After another minute or two of quiet, the stew was cool enough to eat. I happily chewed the softened vegetables and drank down the broth. She ate a bit daintily, trying not to splash, but I made liberal use of the napkin and she didn't appear to mind my hunger.

When we finished, the sun was pouring in through an open window, announcing that dusk, like it or not, would soon be here. I stood, motioning as if to clear the table and wash the bowls.

"Oh, no, please, I'll clean them... " Instead of doing so, however, she returned to the cupboards and pulled out a variety of fresh vegetables. I understood the incoming offer, so I moved to my pack, sliding it away from the couch and opening the cover flap. She brought the vegetables (and a small loaf of bread) and placed them inside, after which I clasped it shut again before hoisting it up.

I had no way to thank her, and she had declined my aid in cleaning up...

I raised a hoof, keeping my expression clear. She looked at it, a brief spark of worry passing across her, so I paused. She raised her eyes from it and met my gaze. I was going to give her a pat on the shoulder or something, but... to hell with it, I thought, and instead raised my hoof all the way to the top of her mane. Her eyelids lowered just a bit as I followed the first touch with a stroke down the back of her mane, ending with a little squeeze at her coat.

I don't know if she would nod, purr, strike at me, or angrily object. She didn't end up doing any of those things, but just stood there as if in shock.

Feeling as awkward as I had before on the riverbank, I backed off and made the semblance of a front-legged bow, then swiftly exited out the door. I crossed the stone bridge, looking back over my shoulder. She hadn't come to the door or any of the windows.

As night fell, I sat just inside whatever forest this was, thinking and thinking.

I should have taken off. I should have abandoned Ponyville and continued on. But I didn't.

Comments

[chaorock]

this is great so far.

[xara]

2002374
Thank you :)