• Published 4th Apr 2013
  • 1,259 Views, 32 Comments

Foal - thelittlestpony

History can tell us many things, but what if the truth is not always one of them?

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Chapter 1: Alone


The feeling the foal harboured in his very soul. Alone. Cold. Wet. The night was not kind to him, rain followed soon after his father had vanished in to the dark.

It was a word his foalish mind was too young to comprehend and understand in its entirety. But he felt it nonetheless.
The Sun had risen moments before, and true to his fathers command he struggled against the rotten tree which had been his shelter. Flailing his limbs without any real plan other than to break free he struggled. He had sunk in his slumber deeper in to the husk of a tree becoming trapped, ever so slightly. After a short while his front limbs broke free and rose to the hole his father had fashioned so violently. He kicked his hind legs deeper in to the rotten body of the tree and propelled himself higher so that his head could see outside.
He could not hear any sounds of the forest. Expecting his father to be nearby he kicked again pushing himself up and up again until his torso straddled the crooked maw of the tree. One more kick and he was free.



The foal was hungry, nothing new to him, food was not high on his priorities at the moment. Looking in the direction his father had pointed he remembered his last command. 'that way'. This was the first time he had awakened and his father not been here. An ever present taken for granted. A reluctant guardian, but a guardian nonetheless.
The foal tuned in the direction his father had galloped. Not understanding the true weight of what his father had told him he moved forward, deeper in to the Everfree forest.


The sun was rising higher in the sky and woodland animals were beginning to stir. A family of squirrels perched on a branch looked down surveying the scene in front of them. Birds fluttered through the trees at a lightning pace halting sporadically to glance from branches towards the forests latest inhabitant.
The foal ventured further while a solitary squirrel left its home and ran in the direction of the forests edge.


The foal walked deeper into the forest, not stopping his search, he did not wish to be alone when his father was just up ahead. Of course he could catch him! He just needed to go faster!
The foal quickened his pace. Damp saddlebags roughly clung to his sides as the forest grew darker around him as the day outside grew brighter. Patches of light caught his eyes and caused him to blink his violet irises in defence. His warm brown coat freshly drenched in sweat covering his frail frame glistened in the fleeting flashes of light like dew refracting the multi coloured light of the sun at dawn.
The foal stopped.




Birds in the distance took flight at the sudden intrusive sound. The foal spun looking in every direction hoping to pick up a sign as to where his father was.

He cast his mind to the night before. He may have been young but his memory was something that never failed him. 'this..thing...is the reason she is not here'
The foal lifted a hoof to the horn piercing the air in front of him. Tapped it three times and then lay on a bed of fallen leaves staring blankly at the gloom ahead.

At the edge of the Everfree forest an adult Squirrel bounded towards the home of a pony engaged in a flurry of chores. All kinds of animal feed were being hastily placed into bowls, troughs and trays on the outside of the small cottage. The pale yellow and pink flurry of activity bathing her charges in a melodic song as the woodland creature jumped on her back.

The pony popped a nervous head up from behind the rock she had jumped and looked to her back.
“Oh.. hello, Mr Squirrel”
The animal ran a circle on her back, jumped off and ran a short distance to the forest ahead, spun around and then waited for the pony to follow.
“What is it Mr Squirrel?” The pony intoned “I simply cant go in to the forest today, I have too much to do before Applejack gets here!” Her eyes flashed to the forest before shuddering slightly as the cool morning breeze crept around her. That was not a place in which she wished to travel.
The animal approached again and stopped a few paces ahead of the pony, turned once more and bounded back off to the forest.
“Something has spooked my little friend” she said as the animal leapt into the tree-line.

The little foal had resumed his march through the forest. Passing a tree for the second time today. His search floundering. Walking in a long circle not paying attention to the forest around him but simply avoiding going up hills, he was too tired to do that anyway, but the consequence of which was tracing his own hoof-steps around a small hill.
The squirrel sat upon the branch of a tree at the top of this small hill silently watching the foal circling around him. Head tilted at an angle and eyes opening suggesting the slightest hint of sentience.
The day had passed quickly and soon it would be evening. The foal paid no heed to the Suns slow movement across the sky and continued on his path passing the same trees again and again. Eyes not moving from the path he was taking until he saw a little ball of fur sitting in front of him.
“Hewwo mister” the little foal said in a high pitched squeak that only a pony of his immature age could muster, sounding as if his tongue was a little too large for his mouth.

The squirrel looked up at the foal, tiny in many respects but towering over the smaller adult animal. The foal lowered his head looking at the animal as if waiting for a response that would never come.
“My daddy that way!” The foal rose again and raised a hoof ahead of himself. The squirrel stared blankly at the hoof before him before turning and leading in a different direction entirely.
“Bye bye mister”
Continuing on his circular path the foal trotted away from the squirrel as the night time continued to creep over the forest. The squirrel, bared his teeth, a hint of ire accented by the swish of its tail and the raising of its head in an haughty manner, as it turned again and headed back along the path the foal would surely follow, to head him off.
The foal was tired now and his gait became punctuated by ever increasing pauses. The tightly tied saddlebags on his back were empty of anything useful to him, only containing a few shiny objects he liked the look and feel of that he had collected over his short life, and an old blanket given to him by his father.



Following his circular path like the turning of the hour hand on a clock the pony marched onwards, paying little attention to his surroundings as he approached the creature he had so obstinately ignored.
The foal startled jumped and looked up again to find the same squirrel looking up at him, this was a different part of the path and his foalish mind did not recognise the animal before him.


The animal turned to lead through the forest the young pony to break his consistent circling of the hillock. The pony unknowingly obliged. Darkness was creeping ever faster now and long shadows cast from the setting of the sun crossed their path. His eyes looking forward to the little animal before him leading the way.
The foal was stopping with much greater frequency now, a day of walking without any food causing him to tire on his quivering limbs.

The squirrel waited, keeping his vigil.
Then led again.

Just as the night was about to swallow the day a dilapidated shack revealed itself to the weary traveller, without a sound the squirrel bounded for its open door hopping and jumping to an open window at the other side of the shack and turned to look to the little unicorn silently following. The pony quickened his pace, a glimmer of hope etched upon his face as he too headed for the open door.


His eyes leapt around the worn shack, eyes glistening surveying the dusty hovel he would unwittingly call home for the evening, there was no sign of his father.. Or the squirrel which had led him here.
Turning back to the door with a solemn face a squirrel stared back at him as the crooked door swung closed on creaking rusted hinges. A log landed on the handle as the foal jumped forward to escape his imprisonment, not realising the mercy being gifted to him. There was no escape this night.

Giving up finally on trying to breach the door the little foal turned and crept to the corner of the shack, a table with an axe on top was the only furnishing afforded him here. His eyes moved to the underneath of the table and his body slowly did the same dropping to his empty stomach.
His eyes moved to the axe blade, his thoughts swimming with his fathers words the evening before.

for now.