> The Grey Cloud
>  by LavaBubble
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Search
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Deep, dark, cold, and dull was the cloud that hovered above her. During the day, the cloud was grey and cool, causing an uncouth odor to drift through the air. And during the night, the cloud created a cruel, cold wind that would sweep across the land, creating a chill that would freeze its victims to their very soul. The cloud was always there, and the cloud had been there for a long time. She recalled, in her younger, easier days that the cloud had not existed yet, and the great blue open dome covered the world along with a great bright sphere that she figured might still be up there.

Of course it’s up there, her internal voice echoed in a biting way, You would have frozen to death by now if it wasn’t.

That was the scariest thought to her right now, and that was why she was making her way across a bleak short field to the dilapidated village that stood not far from where she slept at night. That place was safe, and so far, undiscovered. Unlike this town, that stood about eighty yards away. The town was not much different from the cloud, as it was a cold and merciless place. That had been another thing that she had forced to teach herself. Mother Nature was merciless; a cruel but beautiful maiden that took no prisoners and didn’t seem to understand the concept of mercy. Now, however, the mare had to admit that Mother Nature lacked in the young beauty that she once held. A grey, dark world was all that was left.

The color grey had never bothered the mare before. It had always been a color that she was used to. Oh, yes, she did enjoy the other brightly colored ponies that she had conversed and associated with, but her colors had always been much more subdued. Her mane and tail was yellow, but it had slowly faded grey from age in places. In a way, she figured, she was like the cloud in many ways. Her coat was grey, like the cloud, she was cool headed, like the cloud, and she was strong, like the cloud.

When she had left the Everfree, the daylight was dark and grey. After about what she guessed was forty five minutes of trotting, occasionally stopping to make sure that she was truly alone, she came upon the town. Walking forward, she ignored the sign that marked the town’s entry. Ponyville, the friendliest town in Equestria!

The grey mare trotted through the streets of the town, the muffled clopping of her hooves giving her an idea of what kind of pavement she was walking on. The ash rose up from the ground as she trotted, causing a raspy cough to erupt from within her. She adjusted the cloth wrapped around her nose and mouth, and trotted onward, unstopping. Deep grey ash covered the entirety of the town, with it rising up from its resting place with the slightest movement from the mare, or the natural wind itself. The wind, the mare noted, was not very strong today, and it seemed as though she might make it through the day without a dust storm stirring up.

Bleached bones rattled occasionally from the cold wind that would stir them so. A bright white color, cleaned entirely by the wind and what was left of the elements; some frequent, most others scattered. The clumped ones would form the sometimes tattered corpse of a pony, but most were completely clean. None of them contained hair, since the ash had burned away whatever hair or fur the unfortunate pony had once possessed. Some were locked in time at the agonizing moment of their deaths, their mouths wide open, once capable of creating laughter and misery, and their hooves, reaching up towards the cloud, hopelessly.  The mare ignored them to the best of her ability, her subconscious unable to ignore the true fact that she would join their bleached ranks.

Join them, she thought. Join them someday. Not today. Not soon.

The buildings that stood scattered across the town were almost as hopeless as the bodies were. Some stood skeletons of their formers selves, standing barely and holding rare necessities that the mare hoped that she would find today. Others had collapsed, and worn away from time and weather, becoming dust again like the bleached skeletons. She noted one cottage, not far away from her, that still stood, unlike the others surrounding it. Adjusting her constantly slipping saddlebags, she altered her steady course towards it.

A strong gust came in from behind her suddenly, stirring up the ashes that covered the ground. She closed her eyes quickly, hoping that this sudden wind wouldn’t sting her eyes badly, and held her breath. The wind only lasted for a short second, but the dust remained in the air for what seemed an eternity. When it finally settled again, she reopened her eyes. The cottage was still standing, and it didn’t look like the wind had stirred it any. She had not yet searched that building, and it looked promising, looking to be the remains of some old grocery store. As she neared it, however, a sight greeted her eyes at the doorway. A bleached skeleton lay at the doorway, its body angled in a way that seemed to imply that the pony had been walking out of the door, just as it had greeted death. The door had obviously collapsed on itself in the process, and the pony had writhed around for a bit, before it had fallen to the floor and succumbed to its painful death.

The grey mare stared at the corpse for a bit, contemplating these own dark thoughts to herself. The day was young, and she would have plenty of time to search the store.

What if it had everything in it? What if it had nothing in it?

It looked safe, what was the problem? Looks can be deceiving…

Though she felt she would regret it, her now impulsive nature prompted her to turn around, and search for food elsewhere. Pulling her gaze away from the pile of bones, she turned around, and continued her journey through the town, the familiar muffled sound of hooves against pavement greeting her ears once again. She did not look back.

This had been her process for the last few days. The grey mare would leave her base, and walk into town. She would search the town, and would search the remains of any building she would find. At first, her searches had been somewhat successful, sometimes finding jars or cans of food, and in some cases even finding packages. Now though, after being here for weeks, she was turning up on less food. She would be lucky if she managed to find a single can today. She would break at noon, and then she would return to the base before the sun began to set. 

One of her first days of searching, she had been so successful in finding food that she had neglected to check the time. By the time she remembered, night had fallen, and the strong, cold wind had been created. She had almost been trapped in town, and the next morning when she had revisited, a lot of the buildings that had been standing fine had collapsed. From then on, she had been careful, if not obsessed, with checking the time. If she had taken shelter in a building that night instead of forcing herself back to her base, she would’ve most likely been crushed and killed in one of those buildings. She shook her head vigorously; an old habit that she kept from her younger days when she had thought that would clear her mind.

Searching though the remains of another building that had collapsed, she felt her hoof brush against what felt like a smooth can. Pulling it up from the rubble, she was disappointed and somewhat revolted to find that it was a jaw bone instead. Placing it back on the ground, she continued her rummaging, careful to avoid any nails that she might poke or stab herself with by accident. Reaching underneath a large brown beam, she felt something that felt like plastic.

By the looks of what she had found in these remains, mostly steel pots and pans, this building had once been a bakery of some sort. Maybe in one of her younger days, she would’ve known which specific bakery, as there was a rather great one in town that she stopped regularly at, but at the way this building was now, it was too old and worn to tell. The mare’s curiosity for the plastic feeling object got the best of her, and she decided to check again. She pushed the rubble out from underneath her, and flattened on her stomach to look. The edge of something stuck out from underneath the large beam. 

Probably some stupid random thing, her mind told her. Her body did otherwise. Finding a long board, she shoved it under the beam and used it as leverage, pushing down on it to lift the beam up. The beam was much heavier than she had initially thought, however, and she pushed on it for quite a while, slowly getting it to move until she realized that the beam had been dragging the object along with it. She let out a grunt of frustration, and pushed down harder on the leverage. All this work for some measly object, she told herself, but her body ignored her.

When she heard the creaking sound that told her the beam had been moved, the grey mare collapsed upon the ground, coughing and breathing in random intervals. The work would not have been so exhausting if it had not stirred up so much dust. Besides that, as she checked the time, she could see that she had been working on this job for an hour and a half. She was shocked, and she shot her head up from the rubble. Nothing but buildings and dust from what she could see. The wind, and breathing and coughing were the only noises.
The grey mare composed herself, and she trotted over to where the beam had been. The plastic object, though flattened, was still in good shape, and as she looked at it closer in her hooves, her yellow eyes read the words. Uncle Jam Jar’s Blueberry Muffin Mix. A little bit of happiness in every bite!

She could barely contain herself, and hugged the package close. All that work was worth it for this tiny package. The mare sat there a moment, her emotions running wildly with the small package pressed against her chest. When she composed herself again, she slipped the plastic bag into her saddlebags, and stepped out of the rubble, making sure to avoid nails and splinters to the best of her ability. She left the once colorful building behind, not looking back, and walking to another rubble pile. Rinse and repeat.

The mare had continued this process for another hour, until she was on the opposite edge of town. A vast, and somewhat empty looking pasture spread across her, forming into hills in the distance, and what she knew were mountains even farther back. The hills in the distance were covered in dead trees, skeleton and leafless, as she could tell that they had been for years now. She knew this place, but contemplated on whether or not to go there. Noon was very soon, and she could take a break there.

She knew that this town was empty, just like so many other places were. She had not run into another soul for a long time now. At first, when the world became silent, the mare had thought that she would go insane. This, along with other tragedies, had eventually led to depression, which left her hardened. She contemplated this as she finally decided to take a chance, and see what was in the orchard. Deep down inside, at that dark time, she had wanted to die, and she had even contemplated on ending her life many times. But she had known that was selfish. She had realized that it wasn’t possible in the way that she had initially thought. She would not die, and she would live for as long as she could keep herself alive. She had to keep going. She had to.

The orchard was an empty place. Like the town behind her, for a place that had once been so full of life, this place was dull, empty, and void like. The skeletons had been less frequent here, though she had previously discovered a few still somewhat fleshy corpses in the upstairs of the barn that stood nearby. The grey mare had not ventured back into that barn, as that depressing sight had kept her away, reminding her of why she was scavenging in the first place.

In spite of the barn previously leaving her in tears, she sat down by it, in the shade, and pulled out a canteen and a small piece of bread that she had saved for herself. She observed the silence that surrounded her, taking small bites out of her bread, and then taking small sips out of her canteen. She continued this process, and she began to repeat her brain’s checklist to herself.

Need to find apples…

Not enough food. Gonna run out by next week.

Refill canteen.

Try to find a thick blanket. Gotta get a new one…

Fix saddle bags. The straps are beginning to rip.

At the end of her short rests, the grey mare turned to look at the building, and found her eyes moving up towards the second floor. They were still up there, and the littlest one was laying in bed, covered in a thin, holey blanket, her small ribs poking from her…

The mare shook her head vigorously, but she knew that the sight would never leave her. Corpses and skeletons had not bothered her in years, but this specific sight had almost wrecked her, leaving her in tears and causing her to lose track of time. The day she had come upon the sight had been her second day of scavenging the town. The other two corpses in the barn had neither bothered nor shocked her, but the third sight. It had just been too much. She had fallen to the floor sobbing, and she had laid there in utter despair, her face in her hooves. Trying to rid herself of the memory that she knew would stay with her forever, she repacked her saddle bags and stood up.

Not today, her familiar thought spoke, Not soon.

She passed the barn, trying her hardest not to look at the building, when she began to hear a terrifying creaking sound. As a strong wind began to blow, she found herself staring at the building, as it began to sway. A loud cracking noise erupted from the bottom of the building, as its walls began to crack from the pressure of rotten boards and weak support beams. She almost let out a cry of fear, but she picked up speed, and sprinted away from the house, her Pegasus wings almost unfurling in panic. The building crashed down behind her, and the dust and ashes that had covered it stirred in the air, polluting the already contaminated air. The mare was a very safe distance away from the chaos, but the running from the escape had filled her lungs with the nastiness, and she found herself coughing again. When she managed to calm down, and her heart returned to its steady pace, she placed a hoof to her chest.

Find a better face cloth, she added to her brain’s checklist. 

The trees that had grown in this orchard had once produced some of the finest apples around. The grey mare hoped that maybe she could scavenge a few remaining ones. Ones that had either not been completely crushed by a collapsing tree, or maybe one that was still clinging on to its mother tree, keeping itself alive for as long as it could. This orchard was gigantic, and she knew that she would not be able to search it for very long. She trotted out farther into the orchard, where the dead trees became much thicker and larger. In spite of how strong they looked, she knew from experience that these trees were still able to fall. They had not fallen since she had been here, but they had fallen before, just as easily and unexpectedly as the barn had moments prior. She trotted here with caution, ready to run at any moment.

In what she assumed to be the heart of the orchard, she found what she liked to call the Mother tree. This tree was huge, and towered above her, its roots poking out the ash covered ground beneath it, and its naked, leafless branches reaching up into to the cloud above them.
The mare stared up into the sky for a moment, hoping with a flitter in her heart that the rain would begin to fall. That small hope lingered in her that it would fall, and wash away the filth that she felt covered her being. It never did. She removed her saddle bags, and unfurled her wings, stretching them a few times as to ward away the stiffness she felt. The grey Pegasus had never felt like her wings had been any great beauty or great sight, but as was the case with all Pegasus wings, there was a sense of majesty and pride to them, something that was noted to her now dead race as due bravery, loyalty, and even a bit of an aggressive nature. When she felt comfortable, she flew up to the high branches slowly and carefully, watching as to not crash into the tree, and remembering to listen and to pay attention to the wind, lest it send her crashing into the tree, something that could very well jeopardize her life if she was not careful.

While for a normal Pegasus, the flight around the tree would not have taken more than perhaps twenty minutes, her trip took her a full hour at the most because of her low flying skills. For a moment while flying, she had thought about bucking the tree, as she had seen many ponies do in her younger days, but she didn’t know the proper technique, and she didn’t want to risk either breaking or spraining her legs, or breaking a brittle tree, and causing it to fall on her. She was happy when she came across two small apples growing besides one another on the same branch, and she picked them and flew back down to the ground, placing them inside of her saddle bags. She resumed her search for the rest of the hour, and then she decided to stop.

Flying was more than natural to a Pegasus, but it was not wise to fly with the cloud hovering above her. The weather was strange now, and not natural to the world anymore. The winds were erratic, and the farther up you flew, the stronger and thicker the cloud would become. You could suffocate in a matter of minutes if you became lost up there, or, worse yet, trapped by erratic winds or thick smog. She had not flown up that far in years, but the dirty air had exhausted her from her low altitude, and she found herself shamefully panting as she landed. 

What kind of Pegasus am I, she thought.



***



Three hours had passed since she had found the apples in the orchard. She had not found any more apples than the two that she had taken. The darkness was beginning to fall, and she found herself passing the village’s sign again, ignoring the once cheerful message a second time that day. The cloud had darkened now, and a sense of cold was beginning to crawl into the mare’s very being. The items in her saddle bags were as precious as bits had once seemed, and she recounted what she had collected that day.

One plastic package of blueberry muffin mix. Two small, tasteless, dried apples.

These items were not enough to sustain her. It was enough for a day. While the apples seemed eatable, they no longer had any healthy nutrition, and the mix itself would be nothing more than a powder. These substances would digest in her stomach, and then create energy; energy that would no doubt be used to search an empty town tomorrow, creating an endless cycle. Eat to live, and live to eat. These words had been ingrained into her brain from the instinctual moments of life, but they seemed to reappear in her mind more now.

The foreboding trees of the Everfree seemed more like a home to her now than the familiar buildings of the village. Dark and tall, towering above her with a thick foliage of unknown plants and ferns, covering the once lush and colorful forest floor. The layer of ash was not as thick here, and she could have removed her cloth from her face, but with the risk of catching a coughing fit, she kept it on.

The darkness had completely fallen when she had come upon a very specific area. To any other creature or pony, the area would have looked like nothing more than the endless thickness of the forest. An impassable cliff stood above her to her side, with tall and dark trees continuously growing from its top. The forest was dark already, and the shade of the cliff seemed to cast a void like darkness over the mare. The darkness that she knew was fear. It was the fear of the unknown, and the fear of what was to come. She had nothing to light her way, but she knew the way by memorization. She had been good at planning routes, and she had memorized this one particularly.

The grey mare pressed herself flat against the cliff, feeling with her nose and hooves, sidling across it like some strange thief lurking in the night. She could not see a single thing, but it was the patterns, and occasional jabs of the rocky cliff that she recognized. A slight jab to her stomach awoke a sense of memory in her brain, and she reached upward, finding thick ivy that had grown massively along the side of the cliff, from its top to its bottom. Pulling the ivy aside slightly and gently, she slid into the opening behind it, readjusting it as she found what she had been looking for.

A cold and melancholy breeze filtered through the depths of the cave, and reached her nerves, causing the mare to shake slightly. A light shown forth in the farther depths, and she made her way forward, picking up the pace as she did, making sure to keep her echoing hooves noticeably noisy.

A small filly was there to greet her at the light. She was the only one she had. She was small, and skinny, but she was beautiful to the mare. She was love and everything else to the mare. The grey mare embraced her as her little one hugged her body tightly.

“Welcome back mommy.”

Those words were what kept the grey mare going. When all else had failed her in this dying world, the voice of a young filly kept love and meaning in her heart.

“Hello my little muffin. Are you hungry?” The mare already knew the answer to such a question.

The little filly nodded her head vigorously.

The grey mare smiled. Removing her face cloth, she reached into her saddle bags and removed the package of muffin mix.

Dinky smiled brighter than the fire burning in the cave.

> Night
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Their meal had been short, but precious. They had now eaten their two apples, and had shared their muffin mix. It had not tasted anything like muffins actually did, but the grey mare had wanted to share the moment with her daughter. Something that was so precious, and had been so taken for granted had been a blessed moment. The little filly had taken a taste of the mix. The mare could tell from a quick twitch of the nose of what her little one had thought of it initially. In spite of that, the filly smiled at her mother, and had continued to eat.

They had taken their time to eat, even though they didn’t actually need too. The mare had rekindled the fire with a few small, dry twigs that she had gathered a previous day, and then had laid down on her side, hugging her small filly to her belly with a strength that only a mother would understand. This was a hold that evoked love and warmth, and evoked so much passion in such a gentle hugging. Not even the darkest and most deadly of demons from Tartarus could pry the young filly away.

The light of the fire sparkled in the grey mare’s eyes as she looked at it, her body feeling tired but refusing to fall asleep. A gentle voice came from beneath her.

“Mommy, I can’t sleep.”

The mare did nothing but press her daughter against her more. She could feel the natural heat from her larger body radiate onto the child, and hoped that neither of them would sleep in the cold tonight. In spite of them having a well-lit fire, the cave would still be cold, especially when the cloud would create the chill in the air, and it would blow through the cave, chilling them to their very soul.

“I know,” the mare cooed, “Please try to though ok?”

The child moved her head slightly, unable to keep still, as was expected of children. “I’m trying.”

The filly was quiet afterwards, but then spoke again.

“Mommy, are you cold right now?”

The mare reached her hoof around the filly’s small body to her stomach. She was not shivering, even though she could have been trying not to shiver.

“No.” She spoke, “I’m fine.”

“You’re shivering though.” The child seemed to see through her rues though, and spoke the literal truth. In spite of this, the mare replied to her daughter.

“I’m fine. Just try to go to sleep.”

“Are you scared?”

The mare had to admit that the seemingly random question from her filly had caught her off guard.

Even your own child is unconfident in you. She pushed those old thoughts away.

“…I’m not.” She replied as normally and confidently as she usually did. 

“Oh, ok.”

Silence again.

“Mommy?”

A parent could become easily frustrated with his or her child. The grey mare was sure that she could have easily told her daughter to fall asleep, and to stop talking. She was not new at parenting. Children would be children sometimes, and they liked to talk a lot; sometimes about seemingly random things. But, as the mare knew, it was better to listen to your child than to flat out ignore them.

“Yes my little muffin, what is it?”

“Can you tell me what happened?” 

This was a simple question, but with a complicated answer.

“What do you mean?” The mare asked her daughter.

In the dim cave, she felt her daughter move her head slightly. She could feel her daughter’s yellow eyes looking at her. “You know. Can you tell me why the cloud is here?”

The grey mare sighed. It was not a frustrated sigh, but simply a tired sigh. “Muffin, I’ve told you many times.”

“I know. But can you please tell me again?”

In a way, the mare supposed, it was a sort of bedtime story. “…Yes, I suppose so.”

“Ok.”

The grey mare stared at the fire, the recollections filling her thoughts. “A few years ago, Mount Canterlot erupted…”

“What’s erupted mean again?” Dinky had interrupted her, but the mother knew that she meant no harm. 

“It means…” The mare gave an unneeded pause. “It means that the mountain exploded.”

“The mountain blew up?” The young filly had seemed to realize her previous mistake, and had let her mother finish the statement before she had asked her own. Internally, the mare wanted to smile, but she didn’t.

“Yes. It did. We didn’t know that it would blow up. We had thought that it was dormant.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Dormant? It means that we didn’t think it would erupt.”

“Oh.”	

“Yep.”

The spoken words between the two became silent. The fire nearby crackled, and shone out a light that would have seemed to instill hope into the two, but that hope had been lost in the mare long ago. She was sure that things had tried to get better, but they hadn’t. And they never would. But she had hardened. No, she thought, I have become stronger. She had become stronger, and she would not die, and her most precious treasure would not die.

The mare did not expect the conversation to end, but the idea of the eruption seemed foreign to the filly, and she had pondered it for a bit. Final she stated, “So it blew up, and that made the cloud appear.”

“Yes.” The grey mare answered, “That’s what made the cloud appear.”

That was the end. After that, the child became quiet, and did not speak again. Nuzzling against her mother’s natural warmth, the filly’s breaths soon became gentle, occasionally coughing in her sleep. This had been something that the mare had always become furious at. The damnable ash was a curse. It was a curse to their lungs, it was a curse to their eyes, and it was a curse to their life.

In the hour, the mare soon joined her daughter in the deep sleep. The cold of the cave only increased as the night grew on. The darkness soon overtook the two as the fire finished feeding off of its last cinders.

> Found
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


A little grey filly was sitting on a cloud alone. It was not the grey cloud, but instead a white fluffy cloud. Along with other white clouds in the vicinity, they made up the city known as Cloudsdale. These particular clouds surrounding the filly where what made up the flight school, for all of the eager young Pegasi, ready to earn their wings.

She sat there, tears streaming down her face, but her childish stubbornness holding back sobs. All she could keep now was her dignity. The other foals could be heard in the distance, laughing and playing, as little ponies often do. A group of smaller Pegasi, classmates of the crying filly, flew by. They would not have noticed her if she had been flying, but with her sitting on the  white cloud, still as a grey pebble, she stuck out more. One of the young colts nodded to his companions, and then flew down beside the crying filly.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

The filly looked towards him quickly, his voice startling her. Watching him for a second, she turned away and frantically tried to force her tears to stop falling. The little colt trotted towards her and stood at her side.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

The grey filly tried to shake her head, but when she felt the colt put his foreleg around her, she buried into his chest, her tears still streaming out.

“T-the, o-other kids…” She began, beginning to sob. “T-they… I t-tried to fly straight in c-class… but I-I just couldn’t…”

The colt hugged the upset filly tighter. “Yes, yes go on.”

Taking a deep breath, her sob forced her little body to shudder. “I j-just couldn’t f-fly straight, and c-coach s-said that if I didn’t fly straight one more time… t-then…” She sniffed and wiped her tears with her foreleg. “…T-then we’d all have to fly laps…”

The child’s eyes moved towards the direction where the other children were playing. “T-they said that I couldn’t play with them anymore… b-because I always make f-flight practice so hard…”

Talking about what had happened made the filly feel somewhat better, and her tears slowly began to dry. Her hurt feelings were not completely healed however, and her little heart still felt the stab of rejection. The little colt loosened his grip slightly. The child looked up at him, and he stared deep into her unique and yellow eyes.

“You know that there is something you can do for Equestria right? There’s something that you can do to make Equestria such a better place right?”

The little filly stared up at the colt, confused. She tilted her head.

“Do you want to know what that is?”

The grey filly stared at him, her eyes focusing as best as they could on the colt. She nodded slowly, her mouth slightly open.

He smiled. The colt pulled himself closer to the crying fillies’ ear, and whispered softly, but loud enough for her to hear.

“Kill yourself.”

With that, the colt pulled himself away from her, and walked back towards his friends. Behind him, the filly stared for a moment, and then began crying again. Her heart hurt worse than it had before. Before it was just the sting of rejection, but now it was the realization of a cruel trickery. She had given her heart to him, and he had just torn it to pieces.

The colt walked over to his friends, a smile still on his face.

“Dude, what’d you do to her?” One of the colt’s friends asked.

“Oh,” The colt said casually, “I gave her some helpful advice for once.”

The colts laughed at their friend’s cruel joke, and they took to the air.

“Dumb-Bell, you’re a riot!”

The colts left, laughing loudly at the little filly’s expense. The child was left alone on that little white cloud, the bright blue sky surrounding her like some vast lonely sea. She was alone, and she sobbed, quietly.



***



It had been slightly misty that morning. The grey mare’s Pegasus intuition had told her that misty mornings meant that rain was coming soon. It would never be any more than a light drizzle, which was what the grey cloud would give them occasionally. It was, in a way, a blessing. It kept the world clutching to life for a few moments longer, and that meant that the mare and her daughter would be kept alive a little longer as well.

The town had not changed since the previous day. What had been an empty, deathly empty village still remained: the bleak, scattered bones spread across the place like lilies in a pasture. The mare resumed her search throughout the town, and as she passed by the familiar sign, she looked about. As she studied what to search next, she thought about the house that she had skipped over yesterday. Surely it had been a grocery, and there had to be something to eat inside.

She’s starving. The mare’s thoughts stung the sides of her brain as she thought about her daughter back in the cave. She and I are starving. What she had found yesterday had not been enough. She had to find more today. They couldn’t keep up for much longer. If only she could find more food. She thought about flying as she searched for the grocery. A quick glance at her wings, and her confidence faded. Her flying had never been the best. In another time, when hospitals and clinics and more professional ponies had existed, maybe it would not have been such a bother or a risk. The weather now, however, not being controlled by ponies, was unpredictable.

The grey mare retraced her steps from yesterday. It was a bit difficult, but not impossible. She noted that the dreary mist had made some of the ash in the air settle, and that walking, while annoying because of the wet slosh that clung onto her hooves, was a little more tolerable. She knew that the building had been a few blocks down from the greeting sign of the town, about six she guessed, and that the corpse from yesterday should still be there.

When she did find the building, it looked rather unchanged, which disappointed her slightly. The mare had hoped that it would fall in on itself, which would make it easier and safer to search. It had not, however, and still stood as imposing as it had done the previous day. As imposing as a broken leg or sprained hoof would seem, if ever the building collapsed while she was in it. Or worse yet.

In spite of this, she had to take the chance today. Yesterday had proven very unsuccessful, and remembering her daughter’s shrinking stomach, she knew that she had to look inside. Just a quick peek, and she would be out. If she needed to fly a bit, she would.

“Celestia help me.”

She prayed to a princess whom wasn’t there, and poked her head in. The room was empty, and as she took a small step forward, she felt the skeleton’s skull rub against her leg. The walls of the room had shelves, but they were empty, save for a few old grocery supplies. 

A broom, dustpan, laundry detergent, and other inedible things. Nothing good. She trotted inside carefully, and still found nothing. The floor did creak while she walked upon it, but being a Pegasus, she was naturally light, and knew that it would not collapse from her near nothing weight. What did worry her, however, was the building falling down on her. She poked her head into another room. It seemed to be a sort of kitchen, and the roof had completely collapsed here.

The metallic smell of fresh blood invaded her nostrils, and she almost found herself gagging. The dangerous smell kicked her adrenaline, and she found herself becoming tense. On the floor, beneath a rather large beam, was the body of a pony, a white one, laying haphazardly. His body lay flopped sideways, and his head seemed to be trapped underneath a rather large beam. He was dead, by the looks of it, and he had died rather quickly. The beam seemed to have fallen on him when he was not expecting it, and his brains and blood seemed to have scattered from the impact.

The ceiling had collapsed entirely, and a choking breeze was filtered through the dusty cottage. Looking and hesitating for a bit, the grey mare entered the room, and examined the body closer. It was a male, and he was definitely dead. He appeared to be completely naked, not wearing saddlebags or any cloth or clothing. His coat, though now stained with blood, was noticeably dirty in the places, the assortment of filth scattered around on his corpse, like some sort of natural looking spots.

The grey mare suddenly jumped as a loud cough came out of nowhere. She had calmed down previously, but now the adrenaline rush was back, and it coursed through her veins like some sort of antidote to danger. Her sense forgotten, she threw herself down to the floor, laying down as best as she could. She waited for a bit, trying to locate any sounds of hoof steps that she might hear, either from outside or inside. 

“Help me.”

The masculine voice seemed to be coming from inside of the room somewhere. It had sounded incredibly painful, but the mare was smart and she knew about other ponies tricks. In spite of this, she stood up, and flared her wings, her Pegasus instinct kicking in.

“Oh please Celestia. Someone help me.”

The mare didn’t need to search very long. Behind a small pile of rubble not far from the body, was the body of another. Turning around the pile, the mare had almost jumped as she saw the pony lying on the floor. Blood seemed to be pooling from his backside and wings, which were trapped underneath the collapsed ceiling. He scrambled with his forehooves when he saw her, his eyes darting back and forth quickly, mad with panic.

“Oh please...” His voice was weak and hoarse. The mare looked down at his broken body. “Oh please don’t kill me…”

The mare seemed to recognize him, a vague memory reappearing in her head. She stared down at him for a moment. Then, she reached behind him, and began to clear the rubble away.

“W-what are you doing?” The stallion’s voice squeaked in fear.

The mare ignored him, and continued to lift the rubble away. It was not heavy, but it was cumbersome. The impact from it falling unexpectedly had grounded the stallion to the floor, and he had been unable to turn himself around to remove it. He didn’t seem to realize what she was doing, and he began to fidget about, causing ash to stir from the floor. He coughed as it polluted his lungs. Finally, the mare stopped the cleaning. “Stop it.” Her voice was firm and cold. When he stopped, he looked at her and the coldness in her eyes. Submitting to her mercy, he stopped fidgeting, his fear only keeping him moving with an unstoppable shivering.

When she had cleared the rubble away, she could see that his back legs were practically destroyed. The blood that had been pooling had been coming from his ruined wings, and a small shimmer of bloodied bone stuck from each of his legs, completely broken and damaged from the rubble that had fallen. His feathers stuck out sporadically, and in spite of his panicked state, they hung lifelessly and dull. She wondered how long he had been stuck here.

Reaching down, the mare pulled the stallion as best as she could on top of him. He could not walk himself in his condition. When she began to adjust him onto her back, he began to panic again. This time, she ignored him and pulled him on, grunting and coughing as she did the best she could. 

“Wrap your fore legs around me,” She spoke. “If you try to choke me, I will throw you off and leave you.”

He followed her instructions, and wrapped his fore legs around her stomach. She would not leave him to die, in spite of who he was. 

When she was as comfortable as she could be, she headed for the doorway of the room. The stallion seemed to recognize the dead body as they passed it, and let out a small choking gasp. When they were outside, the mare began to trot towards the forest.

The stallion was not a light load. In spite of having to carry around the cumbersome and sometimes heavy saddlebags every day, the mare was not muscle bound, and she found herself becoming quickly tired as she carried him around. She knew that she could not search the town with her load, and what she had found was going to be much more difficult for her and her daughter. She had previously only two mouths to feed, and now she had three. That meant that the food would run out quickly, and they would be hungrier. The stallion’s back legs and wings were ruined completely, and it was possible he would never walk or fly the same, if ever, again.

She could feel the blood from his broken body soaking into her coat completely, and the stench coming from it made her cough. When they reached the edge of the forest, he had seemed to calm down, though he still shivered from the cold. “Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere safe.”

“Are you going to eat me?”

“No. I don’t eat ponies.”

When they reached the edge of the trees, the mare smelled something in the air. It did not smell right. The forest was supposed to smell like an assortment of strong herbal smells and the musty smell of ash. The ash and herbs were still there, but another smell greeted her nostrils. The stallion seemed to smell it too, and he gripped her sides tighter, his breathing becoming fast and erratic.

The mare hid herself behind a tree thick with brush, and listened. What was nothing but silence became a steady sound, like the marching of soldiers. She dared not peek, but as they passed by, she could smell their smell. Dirty and wet, like a wet dog. They also had patches of blood on them, and she knew that it was not their own. They stepped out from the cover of trees into the open, and the five of them looked about. They were all stallions.

“Do you think that they went this way?”

“Why would they? There isn’t any cover here.”

The mare didn’t want to bother to listen. She waited until they left. The stallion on her back, however, seemed to panic again, and he fidgeted around, one of his hooves jabbing her in the stomach unintentionally.

“Oh please. Oh Celestia, don’t let them see me.”

The stallion’s words become jumbled and incomprehensible as his panic only grew. The grey mare almost panicked herself when the one of the stallions looked back towards the forest, but her panic soon turned to a built up anger. She reached up, and grabbed the broken stallion’s mouth, and clamped it shut.

“Shut up you.” She whispered angrily. “Shut up now. Be quiet.”

The mare kept the stallion’s mouth closed and watched the group of stallions in the distance. They had walked away further, and as they exited the Everfree, one of them seemed to look back in fear. When they had disappeared over the horizon, the mare unclamped the stallion’s mouth and he coughed. She watched the horizon for a bit, just to be safe, and then she turned and trotted away.

They would not be coming back. It was almost funny to the mare as she thought about it.

Ponies still fear the Everfree in these times, she thought to herself. 



***



When she entered the cave, the child ran up to her, but paused as she saw the hurt stallion. 

“Mommy,” the filly spoke. “Who’s that?”

The grey mare trotted to the fire, the child following behind her, and dropped the stallion beside it. He landed on the ground, a painful grunt coming from him. She collapsed herself, exhausted with having carried him such a long way. 

“Go… get…” The mare took a deep breath. “Go… get… the first aid kit… please…”

The filly nodded vigorously, and rushed off to their supplies, looking frantically for the kit. In that time, the mare recovered her breath somewhat, and stood on all four hooves again. When she received the first aid kit, she set about trying to set up a splint and cast for the stallion’s legs. 

“Mommy,” the little filly spoke with her eyes wide, “He’s bleeding badly.”

The stallion stared up at her as she set about her work, his eyes darting from her and her child. He did not say any words, but he would let out pained gasps as she tried her best to treat him. When she was finished with his legs, she set about preening his feathers, rooting out the good from the bad, and trying her best to fold them back into place. When she was finished completely, she sat him up against the cave wall, and sat across the fire in front of him. Her child cuddled beside her, but stared at him all the way. He seemed to be too pained to speak right now, and the mare herself was tired enough. The child was not tired though.

“Where are you from?” The filly asked.

The mare shushed her and held her close. “He’s very tired right now muffin. Let him rest.”

The mare did not leave the cave again that day. Occasionally, she would walk to the entrance of the cave, and leave the two behind. She would check to see if anyone or anything was nearby, and then, when the coast was clear, she would walk back to her company. Taking from what little they had, they ate a small meal of two cans of pears. The stallion seemed to be in too much pain to eat or drink anything, and he had fallen asleep shortly after the grey mare had doctored him. When she finished with her can, she gave the juice to her filly, who liked to suck up any juices that were left in the can at the bottom. The mother and child ate their meal, and the child fell asleep against her, the mother’s warmth and love radiating off of her more powerfully than the sun.



***



The night was as cold and unforgiving as the previous nights had been. The cold was enough to break bones, and the silence was just as strong. The blackness that was caused by the cloud was enough to damage the eyes of those foolish enough to look into it too long. The darkness was feared, and the unspeakable unknown that lurked within the darkness was feared. The mare was awake slightly, and she stared into the eyes of the stallion sitting across from her. She and him were the only ones awake now, and her filly slept by her side, her breathing soft and precious.

The stallion moved himself, trying to become more comfortable. When he failed, he looked into the fire, and then at the mare.

“Do you have something to eat? He asked.

The grey mare got up, and found a can of cherries that she had been storing. She opened it with her teeth, and handed it to the stallion. He took it from her, and seemed to chug the entire thing down. He would lower it from his mouth, and cough occasionally from the overindulging, but then he would continue, the juices dripping down his neck like the blood had been dripping from his legs. He finished the can quickly, and placed it down beside him. It tipped over and rolled away. “Thanks…” He said quietly, but the mare pretended like she didn’t hear him.

The mare could smell the stallion’s blood. As she glanced at his doctored legs, she could see that her rough handiwork had not done much good. Blood seemed to seep from the bandages, and it formed a red pool beneath him. She stared at it for a minute, the firelight causing the stallion’s reflection to light up in the crimson puddle.

“Why did you save me?” The stallion finally asked.

The grey mare stared at the blood, and didn’t look up at him. She could tell by his reflection that this seemed to annoy him slightly, and she wanted to sigh.

“You want to know why I saved you?”

The stallion nodded. “Yes, that’s why I asked.”

“I don’t know.”

The mare answered as truthfully and honestly as she could. Deep down, somewhere within the mare’s heart, she knew that wasn’t the complete truth. She would not and could not leave him to die. Even if she knew that he was going to die anyway, to leave him there would’ve been a terrible death. At least now, if he was going to die, it would not be alone.

The stallion didn’t seem to believe her. He pushed. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

The tone of voice that he spoke in seemed to unlock bitterness within the mare’s heart. “I said what I mean. I don’t know.”

“If you don’t know, then you shouldn’t have saved me.”

“You didn’t want me to save you?”

“No, that’s not what I meant…”

“That’s what I thought.”

The cave was as silent as the cold. The stallion had looked away from her at this point. She could feel that if he had wanted to sigh, he would have, but he didn’t. He seemed to stare at his ruined legs for a minute, and then he looked away towards the exit of the cave. The mare watched him all the while. She watched as his eyes widened for a moment, and he seemed to hold his breath. He exhaled after a second, and then turned away. He seemed to notice her watching him, and he looked at her again, his eyes filled with uncertainty.

“Is that your daughter?” He said, raising a hoof to the sleeping child.

The mare looked down at her daughter. Her pride and joy. Her little muffin. Her own proof of the good of pony-kind, and what it had been before the world had ended. Innocent and pure. She looked up at the stallion.

“She isn’t a that. She’s a she. And she’s none of your business.”

“I bet she is your daughter.” The stallion spoke, a tone of slight mockery in his voice. She knew that he knew, but she didn’t care.

“You don’t know.”

“You could be a little friendlier you know.”

“Really? I could? I had no idea.”

The mare returned to looking at her sleeping daughter. She wrapped a foreleg around her protectively. It didn’t matter though. The stallion couldn’t have moved if he wanted. She did not look up at the stallion again, even if she could feel his eyes on her.

“What’s your name?”

“What does it matter?”

“Who are you then?”

“I’m not anybody.”

Her memories returned to crying alone, with no one to comfort her. She had been hurt, and she had been sad. In spite of those hours alone, she had finally left, and had needed to go home.

Don’t you remember? She thought to herself. Of course not. You wouldn’t remember.

“Well,” The stallion said, “I’ll tell you my name. I’m Dumb-Bell.”

An old bitterness overcame the mare, and she found herself replying coldly. “I’m sure you are.”

“I…”

But the stallion did not finish. The mare did not look up at him, and she began to make herself more comfortable, her daughter’s small body pressed against her belly. The stallion did not speak again that night. A small breeze from the outside world worked its way past the protective vines, and spread it’s coldness throughout the cave. 

> Lost
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Dreams did not matter. Sleep was only blackness, and a time of rest. Dreams had long gone from her mind, and all that existed was the empty, unreachable void that existed in her subconscious when she slept. The dreams of the previous world had vanished, and all that were left were memories. The grey mare awoke and felt the child’s lukewarm body pressed against her, shivering and breathing gently. The fire was gone, and all that remained was a light glow from the leftover coals. The stallion had fallen asleep, his back leaning against the cave wall uncomfortably.

The mare wondered if her child ever dreamt. There was nothing to dream about; there was no childhood joy that existed. All of that had long gone with the other children of the world. The mare lifted herself gently, and walked towards the wood stockpile. It was good, and it was dry when she had collected it. She rekindled the fire slowly, bringing its fragile nature back to life, and felt a warm glow spread over her face as she gently blew into it.

The chilling breeze that had come from the mouth of the cave had stopped now. There was not a glimpse of dull light coming from the entrance’s direction, and the mare wondered if it was raining. As she walked towards the entrance to check, she couldn’t hear anything. There was a dead silence, and then there was a loud crashing and thumping from the cave mouth. She jumped slightly, and could hear the noise continue, a ragged, raspy breath accompanying the noise. She dashed back towards the fire, and grabbed her daughter, whom had barely awakened.

“Mommy… What’s happening?”

The child’s voice was wrought with exhaustion and fear, and the mare thrust her onto her back. She grabbed their saddlebags, and turned around to see a translucent looking creature staring at them from the darkness, its face illuminated by the low firelight. The creature appeared to be a bear, but was colossal in size, and its fur littered with what looked like starlight. She could feel the child’s heartbeat pound against her back, as the two stared up in horror at the beast. Its wild eyes darted about the cave, and it laid eyes on the stallion. He was awake, and seemed to be stunned silent from complete shock. It dove onto him, and grabbed his chest with its teeth, blood splattering everywhere.

“W…what…” The child stammered, her words lodged in her throat.

The mare felt herself blink as the wet, crimson blood splattered onto her face. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. That was the only word in the mare’s mind as she sprinted past the monster and burst through the vines hiding the cave. The stallion’s screams behind her had stopped suddenly, and she found herself spreading her wings, and taking to the air. The child gripped onto her so tightly that it hurt. When she landed, she continued running through the dark woods, trampling any of the underbrush beneath her into a flattened and tattered pulp.

When she stopped, she gasped and coughed and sputtered for breath, seemingly gagging when ash seemed to accompany the air into her lungs. She pulled her child from her back and hugged her. The filly buried herself into her mother’s chest, and sobbed. They had both been splattered with blood, and it had dried and caked itself into their fur and manes. The child hugged and buried herself deeper, and the mare could feel tears forming at the edges of her eyes. A small sob escaped from her throat as she stroked the child’s head.

“M…mommy… the stallion… h…he…” 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry…”



***



They had found a still, small creek in the thick of the woods. The filly cried as the mare cleaned her; the water was practically freezing. It was like some sort of unholy anointing. When the mare had cleaned herself, the two of them began to trot through the woods, keeping clear of trees that had died and were about to fall.

It was the blood. It was the blood that the mare felt dirtying her. No matter what she would do, the blood would cover her hooves until the day that she died. His blood was on her soul, and she had left him to die. There were times in the past that she would have tried to have justified the reasons. He was going to die anyway. But now, it was pointless. This was something that she had given up long ago. His blood was on her hooves. His blood had covered her child’s coat, and had stained her eyes with the cruelty of reality. The child followed her silently, staying at her side, occasionally grabbing her when she felt a twinge of fear.

When they came to the edge of a cliff, the mare stared off into the distance. What appeared to be the ruins of some castle lay about a mile and a half from her vantage point. She felt the child place her hoof onto her foreleg, and stare off with her.

“What is that?” It had been hours since the child had spoken.

“It’s a castle. It’s called the castle of the two sisters.”

The filly narrowed her eyes, squinting to get a better look. “Are we going there?”

The mare shook her head. “No. There might be someone already there.”

“Oh.”

The two continued walking along the cliff, keeping a safe distance from its edge as to not fall off. Smoke was rising from the ruins in the distance, and it merged with the grey cloud.



***



The Everfree was growing darker and deader. A light rain drenched the both of them as they continued onward through the forest. Although she had pressed forward, the mare had not forgotten the stallion that she had left behind. Guilt seemed to be her shadow, and she knew that this death in particular would never leave her. She had seen ponies die before, whether it was of disease, starvation, or being cut apart and then eaten, but this specific death would not erase itself from her mind. When they came upon a large tree with a hole at its trunk, they took a temporary shelter inside. Her daughter, now exhausted, had fallen asleep under her wing, but the mare was wide awake.
He died because of you, her thoughts echoed, You left him to die.

While her daughter slept, the mare let out a small cry, tears falling from her eyes as she lowered her head in utter despair. The town was gone, and so was its food. The cave was gone, and so was its food. The only food they had were what they kept in their saddlebags, and even that wasn’t enough. Their first aid kit was gone. They had even left their mouth cloths behind, and now her daughter seemed to be constantly coughing. As she let herself have a small selfish moment of complete melancholy, she felt her daughter shift under her wing.

“Mommy? What’s wrong mommy?”

The child gently nuzzled her mother, hoping to conjure some response from her. Using her free wing, the mare wiped the tears from her eyes, and looked down at her daughter, mustering the best, if not fake, smile that she could.

“Nothing my little muffin. Nothing is wrong.”

“You said you wouldn’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“You said that we need to be honest about our feelings.”

The child had seen through her rues. She did not want to worry or scare her in her moment of what she considered weakness, but she did not want to lie to her. She had always told her daughter never to lie, and what kind of mother would she be if she lied to her daughter? She doubted herself, however, and found the best choice of words that she could for the child.

“I’m sorry muffin. I’m just worried about you.”

“I’m okay mommy. Honest.”

The mother leaned down and nuzzled her daughter. No, her thoughts spoke, you’re not okay. You are starving, and you are breathing in too much ash. You are cold and wet, and because of my weaknesses, you are without a home. Instead, she smiled, and felt her daughter nuzzle her back.



***



The grayness of the day had become much darker as dusk approached. The mare kept a look out for a place to sleep, and if worse came to worse, she had decided that the two of them would sleep inside of the tree trunk they had seen before. The tree had looked strong, but looks could be deceiving, and she didn’t want it falling over unexpectedly, and keeping them asleep forever. They had not wandered too far from the area, but the forest had become slightly thicker. She had might of thought that they were lost, but her stubbornness and determination kept her from admitting so.

The child had been quieter since her nap, and the mother found herself worrying a little more. As they trudged through the woods, the mare felt something move against her hoof that did not feel like wood. When she looked down to see, it appeared to be a leg bone of some sort. Long and deathly white.

“Mommy,” She heard her daughter whisper, “There’s a body over there.”

Looking up from the bone, the mare saw that a few feet away was indeed a corpse. It appeared to be slumped on the ground, like all the others that she had seen, and a loose array of ivy and plants had grown on and around it. Its wide eyeless sockets stared at her, and a few teeth were scattered from its mouth. On the skull looked to be a peeling leather flight cap with goggles. As the mare trotted towards it and inspected it closer, she found that a large barrier of brush behind it appeared to be hiding something. In a small clearing behind the body, there was a broken and rotting basket, with a leathery sort of large material attached via ropes.

Realizing what it was, the mare called back to the child. “Come here. We found something.”

The child rushed to her side quickly, but looked confused at the sight. “What is this thing?”

“It’s an air balloon.”

As the mare inspected the balloon closer, she found that a large hole had been torn in the side, and that some of the leather had been burned away. The balloon itself was thick and rubbery, and she realized that although it might be useful, she did not possess any item to cut it with.  Looking about, she searched the destroyed basket while her daughter sat on the balloon and stared at her.

The basket itself was worthless and broken. She had figured that she might be able to weave something together from its remains, but as she touched it, it crinkled and fell apart. The rope that had been at the bottom of the basket was good, and she took it and stored it inside her saddle bags. A small rusted toolbox lay open on its side, with a few tools scattered about it. Most of the tools were rusted and unusable, but she had managed to find a few that were not; a pair of pliers, a screwdriver, and a telescope.  The mare took all of these tools, and as she looked through a small compartment inside the tool box, she found a small but sharp knife inside that could still be opened.

With the knife she found, she salvaged a little bit of the rope keeping the balloon together, and then she began to fashion a few face cloths out of the leather of the balloon. The balloon was much thicker than she had initially thought, but tearing it apart layer by layer revealed the proper and durable materials. In the painstaking process of one hour, the mare had managed to fashion a face cloth for her and her daughter. She tied the cloth around her daughter’s face, and applied hers as well.

“How does that feel?” She asked the child.

“It feels better, but my voice sounds weird.”

“At least you won’t be coughing as much.”

“I guess so.”



***



They had been forced to sleep in the trunk that night. The mare kept the child huddled under her wing for warmth. She took out a blanket that she had kept in her saddlebags. She covered them both, but kept the child underneath the warmth and safety of her wing. The child did not speak any that night or evening, but the mare was awake, and listened and felt the wind blowing a cold, unforgiving wind across the forest floor.

Tomorrow morning, the mare decided, she would take to the air, and fly above the trees. When she did that, she might be able to see which way they were going. The forest itself was a dangerous place, but it was more dangerous to be out in the open, where nopony could keep themselves hidden. In spite of this, however, there was nothing to be eaten in this forest, and they needed to find civilization. They had eaten a little that day, but it would not last. Already, the mare could feel that the energy she had gotten from the food was beginning to leave her, and her eyes slowly began to drift. 

As she began to feel herself doze off, she looked down at her daughter. She counted each precious breath she took, and smiled at the rising and falling of the small fragile body.

> Fly
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


In the dark, cold night of eternity, the grey mare surprisingly found herself in the world of dreams. In the dream she found herself in the town, and as she walked past the burning buildings, she could see the dead rising and walking among her. The skeletal and corpse ponies were trotting or flying about, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. The mare herself was the only pony with any flesh, and as she walked past the walking dead and the burning buildings, she thought nothing of it. This was just any regular day in Ponyville to her.

She felt a sudden jolt in her belly. When she looked down and rubbed her swollen stomach, she realized that they were both hungry. A sudden craving overcame her, and she found herself walking towards the smoldering building from which she was a regular customer. There was no line, but as she walked into the flaming building, a few other ponies walked out the doorway, some on fire, but none of them thinking of it. One of them even laughed, as if he or she had just heard a very funny joke.

The inside of the building was completely on fire, and smoke filled the air. The mare trotted up to the counter, where a familiar skeletal face was smiling at her. The skeleton waved at her, and almost had to keep herself from bouncing.

“Hiya D… or should I say Mrs. Whooves! Welcome to Sugar Cube Corner! Did you enjoy that special “Wow now you’re married but also preggers but that doesn’t matter ‘cause your happy” party!? I thought that it went pretty well except for the part where Pokey accidently knocked the punch bowl over and spilled punch everywhere, but it was funny because the floor was so sticky that Scootaloo got stuck to the floor and Spike tried to pull her up with a spatula and…”

The mare smiled, and placed on of her hooves on the counter as she listened to the talkative skeleton jabber on. The counter was flaming hot to the touch, but it did not faze her. When the skeleton had finished, she took a breath and spoke finally. “Hiya Pinkie! I guess just give me the regular muffin. Blueberry if you’ve got any!”

The skeleton bounded towards the kitchen, literally bouncing the entire way. “Okey Dokey Lokey! It’ll be out in a jiffy!”

As the mare waited patiently for her snack, she could hear the cheerful skeleton singing from the kitchen, her loud but very nice singing voice carrying a short but cheerful song; most likely made up in about five seconds. The beat was catchy, and the mare found herself drumming alongside the skeleton with her hooves on the flaming counter.

She repeated the song about five times until finally she appeared from the kitchen again, bouncing over to the grey mare with a tray of muffins on her back. The mare began to question why the muffins would stay on her back completely without toppling over, but she assumed that it was better not think too hard about it. Regardless, the skeleton reached back and plopped a few of them on the counter.

The mare took one and munched on it, while the skeleton placed the others into a brown paper “to-go” bag. The mare took them, and began to pay, when the skeleton stopped her. “Oh no no no no no no! These baked goods are on the house!”

The mare was shocked. “But Pinkie, that’s not fair for you. Just let me pay, it’s no big deal.”

“No big deal!? Well, duh it’s a big deal! You’re all preggers! You’ll need those bits to buy diapers and bottles and baby stuff! No no no no! This ones on the house!”

The mare wanted to argue, but she knew the skeleton well enough. When her friend said no, she generally meant no, and nothing was going to change her mind. She sighed, but smiled. “Alright Pinkie. Just this once though.”

As the mare turned to leave the flaming building, she suddenly caught a strange sound in the air. Her ears twitching, she turned back to the skeleton, and tilted her head. “Hey Pinkie? Do you hear that noise?”

The skeleton smiled. “Oh I sure do! That noise is coming from the kitchen! It’s the boiler, and it’s all about to go kablooey and destroy us all! My Pinkie Sense told me so!” The skeleton said it in such a cheerful way, that it was almost terrifying. 

The mare looked at the skeleton, horrified. She attempted to speak, but she found herself froze in shock. The skeleton didn’t look too fazed, however, and her empty sockets continued starting at the mare.

“But that’s ok, because you’re dreaming silly! None of this stuff going on is real; it’s all just in your head! In fact, you’re about to wake up in three… two… one…”	



***



The mare awoke from the sudden dream, and she felt a shivering underneath her. Peeking under the blanket and her wing, she could see that the child was awake, and wide eyed. She cooed softly, nuzzling the child.

“Mommy… I had a nightmare…”

“I’m sorry muffin. I did too.”

“I’m sorry mommy. What did you dream about?”

The mare closed her eyes. She could remember details about the dream, but not the whole thing. She remembered the cheerful skeleton, however, and spoke to her daughter. “I dreamed about one of my old friends.”

“Oh.” The child was silent for a minute. “Do you miss her?”

The mare nodded, her features softening. “Oh yes. I do miss her a lot.”

The mare felt the child nuzzle her back. The two of them laid there for a while, each the other’s only comfort. The air was cold, but the wind was light. The grey cloud hovered above them.



***



At noon, they finished the last of their food stubs. They had managed to split a small bag of sunflower seeds, and had emptied their canteen. The mare knew that finding water would not be a problem, but the food would be. It was always the food. As they made their way through the forest, they came upon a small clearing in the trees. The ground was rocky beneath them, and the mare watched her child leap upon on of the taller rocks, and stand with her hooves pressed together.

The grey mare smiled. “You silly filly. You look like a billy goat.”

As the child continued to play, the mare looked up into the clearing. The wind was not harsh today, and even though it was cold, she knew that her kind had been built for the cold. Watching her daughter take to another rock, she spoke to her. “I’m going to fly up and take a look around. Is that okay?”

The child stopped in her tracks. She looked down, somewhat self-consciously at the ground, fear embedded in her eyes. The mare knew that it would necessary for her to fly eventually to get their bearings. They could wander this empty forest for weeks, until they were either consumed by it or starved to death. She needed to know where they were. “Do you not want me to?” The mare asked gently.

The child was quiet, and continued to stare at the ground, now shuffling her hooves. The mare began to take that as the answer no, when the child spoke.

“Can I go up there with you?”

Her daughter had never made a request quite like that. It seemed that when they had traveled, if they had ever gotten to a high up place, then the child would begin to act apprehensive and nervous. The mare had just assumed that she was afraid of heights. She had never thought that she wanted to fly. The child was a Unicorn, and their place was here on the earth. In spite of this, the mare did not reprehend her, and only responded with surprise. “Of course. Of course you can.”

When the child was secured onto her back, the mare flexed her wings, and took a steady movement upwards, aiming herself towards the grey cloud. She took to the sky slowly, and as soon as they were above the treetops, the mare could already feel the air becoming thicker. The wind had picked up considerably, and she found herself already exhausted. The child clamped on tightly, staring at the ground below in fright.

“Don’t look down. That will only make it worse. Take out the telescope.”

She felt the child rummage around in her saddlebags for a bit, until she pulled out the cylinder shaped object. She fumbled with it for a bit, but finally pressed the smaller end against her eye, extending it slightly.

“Do you see anything?” The mare coughed.

“No.”

“Remember to look all around.”

“No. I don’t see anything.”

When the child was finished, the mare looked through it herself. The object itself needed cleaning, but it still worked fine. She stared through the lenses, and looked in every direction. There wasn’t anything but treetops. There wasn’t any smoke, any signs of a fire, or any signs of civilization. The haze in the distance made it too unclear to see any hills or mountain ranges. The mare felt a sting of fear. If only I was a better flyer, she thought to herself.



***



They had not eaten since the previous morning. The child was exhausted, and too tired to walk or talk. The mare was carrying the child on her own back, and she continued to walk through the forest. She had started a habit, where every hour, she would fly above the treetops, and look through the telescope. She would scan the horizon, and when she found nothing but a sea of trees, she would land and continue on hoof. She found that there were no landmarks to go by. Unlike her part of the forest, where her cave had been, this forest was all the same. It was nothing but trees and thick grasses and ferns. The ash went unnoticed to her, as it was everywhere.

The nights had been the worst. As she had laid in the darkness and held her child tight, her brain would create scenarios where a beast would find them and kill them. Oftentimes at night she would swear to awaken and hear a faint laughing in the distance. She would wait, and stare into the darkness. The laugh would only sound once, and when she was entirely sure that they were completely alone in this damned forest, she would resume sleeping if she could.

There was nothing to eat here but the ferns on the forest floor. Around noon, the mare came upon an area where the ferns were especially thick. Though still grey from the ash, they were much greener than the previous ones she had seen. She plucked one, and using her wing feathers, she squeezed the juice out of the fern as best as she could. Albeit a little bitter at first, the fern was was rich, and she began to harvest a few.

The child awoke on her back, and watched as she plucked the healthier looking ferns from the ground. “What are you doing?”

The mare plucked a fern and handed it to her daughter. “Here, eat this.” The child looked at her funny, and the mare chewed and swallowed one of her own. “Go on. It’s good to eat.”

“What kind of ferns are they?”

“They’re called fiddlehead ferns. They’re an edible type.”

The mare gave the child a few more to eat, and she managed to harvest a few. These small ferns would not last long, and neither would they be very filling, but they were rich, and would give them some energy.

When she had gathered enough to be satisfied, they took a break, both eating on the ferns that the mare had gathered and sharing the canteen. They did not start a fire, as it was not possible with the wind, but as the cold chill began to disturb them, the mare removed the tattered blanket and wrapped it around the child. They sat amidst the ferns and ashes, and faced the opposite ways, both back to back, in silence.

After a short while, the mare felt the child move shift behind her. “Mommy, do you ever think the cloud will go away?”

The mare looked up at the sky. “I’m not really sure muffin. I don’t know if it can.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean that I don’t think anything could push it away or break it.”

“Couldn’t the wind just blow it all away?”

The mare felt a feeling surge through her wings as she remembered her races’ ultimate reason for existing. “No. Wind is created by Pegasus ponies, and there aren’t many of those left anymore.”

“Couldn’t the wind blow away the cloud now?”

“I don’t think so. The wind now is not natural, and neither is the weather. We don’t have any way of controlling it anymore.”

“Is it an evil wind?”

The mare felt as if she should laugh, but her daughter was probably not far from the actual truth. “No. I don’t think so. I think that because we ponies can’t control our environment anymore, the environment just decided to take care of itself again.”

“Did you ever make the weather rainy?”

This time, the mare actually did laugh. It was a small laugh. “No. I actually helped create more lightning and thunder than I did rain. I wasn’t very good with the weather…”

“But what if, we got a lot of Pegasus ponies and took them up in the sky and then they tried. Would it work?”

The mare was reminded of her hometown. Cloudsdale had been strong, for a while, but the ashes and smoke had become too much. The other Pegasus ponies whom had retreated there had all suffocated or starved to death. The grey cloud was too thick and dangerous to travel through. In the end, Cloudsdale had not fallen from the sky; it had dissolved. It had evaporated. It had become part of the grey cloud. She had never known what had happened to those living there.

“No. I don’t think that the sky is a suitable or livable place anymore now. The wind is too strong and cold, and the air is so thick that you couldn’t breathe up there anymore.”

“Oh.” The child seemed to take the mare’s last statement as word, and she continued the silence from before. When the mare could feel the energy created by the healthy plants drizzle through her body, she lifted herself and her daughter, and they pressed onward. 



***



The cold night was as breakable as the previous had been.  A very specific and freezing wind seemed to strike them in the night, and the mare had kept the blanket on her daughter, whom was tucked underneath her wing. Now, beneath an outcropping of rock, the mare continued her silent vigil, keeping her eyes and ears as alert as she could. The child stirred beneath her, and took a quick gasp of breath in. In a moment, however, the child relaxed, and her breathing became steadier.

The fiddleheads would be satisfactory, but not enough. There was never enough anymore. Never enough food, never enough energy, never enough pleasures of life; life itself was not about life, but simply survival. There were no pleasures to enjoy, and each was the others only comfort. There was simply nothing more for them. Without the other, the opposite may as well not exist.  For now, each pressed against each other for desperate warmth, the mother and child rested in the inky darkness, the cold chilling them down to their very bones.

The mare began to feel herself drift away. They had picked a rather unnoticeable place to be found, and the mare knew that in this deep, darkness, she would have been able to make out the vision of a light from a distance away. As she began to fall asleep, a loud bang awoke her senses. The child underneath her snapped awake, and jumped at the noise.

After a moment of complete silence, the child spoke hesitantly. “Mommy? What was that?”

The mare shushed her quiet, and kept her senses alert. There was nothing to see in the night, but there was everything to hear. Usually, there was nothing to hear but the familiar dead silence of the night, and whatever environmental factor that was somewhere close by. But the bang went off again, followed by an incomprehensible shout.

Quickly, the mare rose to her hooves and grabbed her daughter. The child held on without being told, and the mare took to sprinting away. When she felt her hoof hit what might have been a stump or rock, she took to the air, gliding above the ground not so high that she could hit the branches, but enough that she could avoid the rocks or roots underhoof.

The child seemed to realize their dangerous predicament, and began to glow her horn as best as she could to light their path. With the light glow illuminating the forest, the mare landed and began to sprint as fast as she could.

The grey mare had not turned to look when she had begun running, and a part of her was confident that they had outrun whoever it was who was out there. The bang went off again, this time louder, and the mare felt the right side of her body becoming slightly warmer. She was not quick enough to turn and look, but she grunted as a seemingly large and hot object seemed to skid across the right side of her body. Instinctively, her wings flapped to fly away, but the object hit her right wing dead on, singeing a few of her feathers, and burning the wing itself. She felt herself being thrown sideways, and she tumbled onto the ground, her daughter losing her grip and being flung away, screaming all the while.

The mare felt her senses cloud with pain and confusion, and in her hazy vision, she could see a light ahead from her. A tree seemed to be on fire, and a large, meteor looking object was embedded into its base. She could smell her wing burning, and she resisted the urge to vomit; not necessarily from the smell, but from the pain itself. As she slowly rose to her hooves, she could hear quick stomping noises from behind her, becoming louder and louder by the second. As her senses began to return, she realized that it was being accompanied with shouting as well.

“Dinky… Dinky where are you…” She could barely speak, and she managed to practically choke the words out.

She felt something heavy hit her from the back, and throw her forward. Her senses utterly confused now, she felt as the heavy something grabbed ahold of her back leg, and attempted to bend it in an unnatural way. The loud, disgusting breathing that accompanied it made her realize what it was, and she kicked her free leg out, bucking the stranger right in the jaw.

It grunted painfully, and attempted to grab her again, but this time she reared and bucked with both legs, hitting the stranger right in the mouth. It cried out in pain, and she turned to observe her foe. It was a large Earth pony stallion, young and unkempt looking. He didn’t appear to have a tail of any sort, as it seemed to have been chopped off completely. His mane was greasy and long, and his sunken face was now swollen and bloody from her hard kick. A mare was with him, a Unicorn, and she had grabbed ahold of her daughter, and was on top of her, attempting to grab her front legs. The child was flailing and screaming.

The grey mare quickly reached into her saddlebags and grabbed the knife that she had found. The stallion whom she had bucked attempted to grab her again, but she dove underneath his large body, and bucked his ribs, lifting him off and sending him into the air, crashing onto the ground. With the knife blending into her undamaged wing like a feather, she dove towards the stranger attacking her child, and flailed her wing at her. The Unicorn mare let out a short, shrill cry as the blade sliced her face and sent her falling backwards. The mare was upon the stranger in a second, and with the knife, she stabbed her once in the side of the head, and once in the throat. The stranger was dead in two seconds, blood bubbling from two holes in her body.

The blood speckled mare reached to help her daughter to her hooves, but she felt someone grab her damaged wing and swing her, sending her slamming onto the ground and sending the blade slipping from her wing. As the stallion reared up to crush her, she rolled out of the way and butted into his side.  When he fell to his side, the mare turned around and bucked him in the side of the head, her adrenaline adding to the mix. The result was a sickening crack as the stallion’s head split open. He did not get up. Instead, he lay on his side, twitching.

When the grey mare found her daughter, she was visibly terrified, but mostly unhurt. Numerous bruises seemed to indicate that the stranger had been very rough, but more than anything, the child was alive. She buried her face into her mother’s chest, and cried loudly and painfully. The mare herself was at a loss for words, and simply nuzzled her back, feeling her own fears drip out of her eyes as well, a sob escaping her throat. Over her daughter’s sobs, she made out another noise, sending the adrenaline coursing through her now exhausted body again.

“Sweet Celestia!”

The mare quickly grabbed her daughter and threw her onto her back. A stallion had wandered upon the area, and upon finding his dead comrades, had screamed out in fear and anguish, alerting anyone whom was nearby to their location. The child was screaming in pure, petrified terror now, and the mare sprinted like mad. She could hear the loud and quick hoofsteps behind her, and the shouting and profanity of the ponies that were creating it.

There is no other option, the mare’s thoughts echoed, You must fly.

The mare had not been able to look upon her wing clearly, but it had never been damaged like this before. Maybe she had sprained it once or twice, but it had never been hit so hard and burned so badly. It was painful enough just keeping it tucked at her side safely. In spite of this, she flared her wing, and grunted as she tried her hardest to make use of it. It could flap, but the pain was excruciating, like several dozen hot knives had been driven into it, bending and turning.

When the grey mare took to the air, she avoided the branches as best as she could. The voices were below her now, and her ears could hear them screaming not at her, but one another.

“You numbskulls! Bring her down!”

“What do we do!?”

“Didn’t you see her eyes? She’s a retard! Throw stones at her!”

When the pain became too great, and she knew that she would fall to the earth, the mare took upward, and landed on a thick tree limb. She collapsed to her rump, and she pulled the child close to herself. The child was no longer screaming, but by the faraway and dead look in her now puffy eyes, the mare knew that she was beyond terror. The mare herself could feel their heartbeats, beating together like some Zebra drum beat, making a melody of absolute horror. She did not dare look below her. Ponies themselves were not great tree climbers, and if there had been any Pegasus ponies among those below, she and the child would have been dead by now. Their voices were gruff and desperate sounding.

“We’ve got her now!”

“How do we get her down though?”

“You moron. Chop down the tree!”

“But we don’t have an axe.”

“Oh. Yes I forgot. Well…”

The group beneath her became silent. If they fell asleep, she and the child could escape. Her wing was hurting more than ever, and she wondered if she would not be able to fly the same again. She could feel it beginning to numb and stiffen, so she kept flexing it, fighting the pain to keep it folded at her side.

“We’ll just smoke her out. Get a fire going.”

They weren’t going to leave. They wouldn’t leave until they had what they wanted. They were going to force them out of the tree, and then they would give chase. The child was hugging close, silent and traumatized, and the grey mare held her close, her mind racing with thoughts. Though her thoughts were random and sporadic, there were only two that stood out in her mind as she listened to the stallions and mares below her conversing, getting ready to kill her and her daughter.

You bastards. You bastards.

> Others
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


A long trail of blood was left behind the bodies that the ponies’ below had managed to recover. They had dragged the bodies from the burning tree, and using a knife of their own, they sliced the meatier parts of the corpses away from the bones and intestines. The child seemed to be in limbo now, and whenever a tiny reminder was made to her about the ponies’ below, she would whimper and huddle in fear to her mother. The mare watched as the ponies managed to start a small fire, and began to cook the meat over it in a spit.

The grey mare could not see it very well, but she knew that they had been watching her. As each of them hastily devoured the meat, she could hear the unpleasant humming of flies around them, buzzing around whatever parts were left. Besides the distinct humming of flies and the crackling of the small fire, she could hear parts and bits of their conversation below.

“Hit her wing…”

“We’ll get them down tomorrow…”

“Keep an eye out tonight…”

The mare had been up in the tree for hours. Her body had grown numb from being in the same position since she had landed. She felt as if she shouldn’t move to give away her position, but they knew where she was anyway, and she realized this. The child had not said a word, and her crying had stopped long ago. She was too exhausted to shiver, and only fear kept her eyes open. 

The mare knew that unless she was able to fly again, they would die and be consumed by the ponies below. She had not looked at her wing, but she could feel some bodily liquid gently trailing down her wing, and she did not want to look. It no longer hurt, but she could not feel it or move it, and that was not good. She couldn’t even position herself on the tree limb to look at it properly.

The night was dark and cold now, and the ponies below had fallen asleep, all huddled together for warmth. They had taken the guts and intestines and had buried them a sizable distance from their campsite. She could not see it, but she knew that one of them was watching her. She knew this because of the long dark hours of being in the tree, the fire kept going. At first, she had been unsure and had thought that it might be a Unicorn’s spell keeping it going, but occasionally, when the watcher below had not been careful, she had heard the sound of fresh wood being thrown on the fire. It would release embers into the air, and they would float up towards her, lighting up her vision for a split second, until they died and became part of the atmosphere.

Eventually, she felt her child’s breathing become calmer and calmer, and the gentle rising of her little body made the mare realize that she had fallen asleep. Though she could have and might have panicked, the mare thought of what she might be able to do. Her first thought was of flying, but she knew that her wing was ruined. If it wasn’t ruined, the ash would most likely infect it, if it wasn’t already, and that would render it useless. She would have to seek out antibiotics or some miracle herb, or it would spread to the rest of her body, and she would die slowly.

Realizing her morbid thoughts, she shook her head and thought again. She was certainly not the most athletic type, and she knew that it would not be possible for her to jump from limb to limb. Besides that, the limbs were too far for her, and she would send her daughter and herself crashing down to the forest floor, where if they did not die from the impact, they would be consumed by the ponies below.

Neither one of her plans seemed plausible. She thought of her first one again. Even if her wing was infected and useless, she could surely keep herself airborne with the other. She had seen other Pegasi do it before, and if she did make it away, dying eventually would be much better than dying now. It would be a much better fate than seeing her daughter being eaten in the last moments of her life. 

Looking down below, she stifled a cough as she peered down through the smoke. The entire group was asleep, and though she could not see the watcher, she knew that he was surely there. She stared around at the trees, but she could not see anything. The grey cloud made the nights incomprehensibly dark, and there was nothing in the inky blackness.

She took a deep breath, and began to hobble to her hooves. A searing pain tore through her wing as she attempted to move it, but she winced and did her best to ignore it. Her daughter was awake now, and a soft whimper emitted from her throat. The mare shushed her, and whispered.

“Muffin, please try to climb on my back…”

The child could not do it alone, and the mare struggled to help her by giving her a slight push. “Are we going to die Mommy?” The child was beginning to panic, and her voice was barely audible.

“No. Not now. Now please hold on.”

A loud roar of noise erupted from below, and the mare almost felt herself scream in fear. The child did scream, and she felt the child’s hooves dig deep into her sides. Looking down below, she recognized the roar as a scream, and she could barely make out what was happening. The ponies below were scrambling in chaos and confusion. She heard a mare scream below, but was cut off abruptly. After what seemed like a few minutes, all was quiet, as if nothing had happened at all.

A gruff voice called up. “Are you alive? Can you come down?”

The mare could not see anyone. This might be a trick. She kept quiet, and she did not move. The child was shaking, and she could fear her daughter’s tears rolling down her back. “Come down. I know you’re up there. I swear to Celestia I won’t hurt you.”

“I don’t believe you.” The mare called back down, her maternal protection giving her quite an intimidating voice.

The voice was gruff, but patient. “You don’t have to believe me, but I know it’s true. We’ve been watching you since these ponies attacked you. I wanted to help.”

The mare did not move. After a few minutes, the voice below sighed. “I’m not leaving until you come down.”

Finally, the mare felt she had no choice. As she stretched her good wing, she formulated a plan in her head. If the voice was a lie, and began to attack her, she would run like the wind. Surely, whoever they were would lose her in the dark. They could hide until morning, and then they would set off again. Using her good wing, she managed to half fly down from the tree, until she felt her hooves on the ground. The child had not released her grip, and she could feel the hard edges of the child’s hooves digging deep into her sides, making the trip more painful and exhausting than it could have been. 

On the ground in front of her was a brown Earth pony stallion, with a black colored mane. He stood much taller than her, and was a very stout and built fellow. His cutie mark appeared to be a pair of red boxing gloves. He stared at her, but he kept his distance. His gazed seared into her body, and she felt her wings become erect, in spite of the pain, to make herself looking more intimidating. The area around them was covered in blood, and the group of ponies lay broken and dead, scattered about the area. Most of their skulls seemed to be crushed completely.

Removing her saddlebags from underneath her daughter, she threw them at the stallion. They had nothing to eat but a few leftover fiddleheads, but it was all they had. Besides, when he rummaged through it, they could make a run for it.

“Here, take what you want.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want anything.

“You don’t?”

“Nope.”

“Then, what did you want from those ponies?”

“Nothing. They didn’t have anything that I wanted.”

“Then you’re going to eat them.”

“No. I’m not going to eat them.” The stallion stared at the fresh corpses. His expression seemed to turn to that of the upmost disdain. “And even if I did eat ponies, I wouldn’t eat these nasty sons a bitches.”

She glanced over at the bodies again. The child on her back was shaking, and she could feel her tight hooves at her sides. When the mare did not say anything, the stallion spoke. “Why don’t you come with me and meet my family?”

The mare narrowed her eyes and snorted. “You have a family.”

“Yep.”

“You have foals with you.”

“Not yet, but we will soon enough.”

“You’re lying.”

“No. I’m not.”

“How do I know you’re not?”

“You don’t. You’ll just have to risk it.”

The mare contemplated what the stallion had said. He seemed knowledgeable, and that was dangerous to her, but he also seemed honest. As she stared at him, he seemed to be waiting patiently for her answer. The mare also noticed that as he waited, his eyes and head would slightly move occasionally, looking towards her damaged wing. When he didn’t look in that direction, he looked above her, at the filly on her back. Ultimately, she made her decision.

“Alright. But if you try anything…”

“I won’t. I promise.”



***



At dawn, a pretty white Unicorn mare with a red and white striped mane greeted her in the clearing that the stallion led them too. Her pink eyes watched them as they approached, and as the mare and filly entered her vicinity, she trotted up to them quickly. The grey mare recoiled slightly as the stranger approached her, and the stranger seemed to notice this, and stopped quickly.

“We were so worried about you and your daughter. We saw those other ponies chase you, and we wanted to help. I’m so glad that you are all alright.”

The mare did not speak. The stallion had trotted up to a nearby log and reached inside, pulling out a rather stuffed pair of saddlebags. As he rummaged through it, the white mare turned and looked at him. He pulled out two jars of sliced apples and held them up. The white mare nodded, and he trotted towards them. 

“Would you like something to eat?” The white mare asked.

The grey mare stared at the duo. She nodded her head, and the stallion sat the jars down near her. She took them, and setting her child down on the ground, she opened them, and handed her child a jar. The filly did not move, and only stared at the jar as it was placed in front of her. The grey mare noticed this, and wiped a speck of dirt from her cheek.

“Please eat muffin. Please…”

The mare did not eat until her child ate. The child ate slowly, occasionally stopping to stare down at the jar, as if contemplating some odd random thought. When they both finished, the mare handed the filly her jar, giving her the leftover juices inside. The white mare and stallion had watched them for a bit, and when the grey mare had turned to look at them, they looked away awkwardly, and then had sat down nearby, giving the grey mare and her daughter the privacy they needed. 

The day was dark, and the wind brought a light chill over the group. The stallion left the clearing, and the two mares and filly stayed behind. The white mare had noticed the grey mare’s wing, and had taken their first aid kit, and had doctored and bandaged it. The grey mare glanced at her wing when the white mare began to inspect it and felt sick. Some of the feathers and fur had been burned away completely, and the object seemed to not only burn her wing, but cut it open as well. It was not broken, but it was beginning to swell from the injury. The cut and burns seemed to have made it bleed, and it needed to be cleaned.

The white mare looked at it for a bit, and then wandered back over to the saddlebags. She returned with a first aid kit and a canteen. Though the kit was dirty and old looking, she procured a needle and thread. When she began to clean the wound, the grey mare felt the sting of the cold water against her wounds. It didn’t take much to clean them, she found, but then the white mare held up the needle and thread with her magic.

“I’m sorry. I don’t have any numbing medicine. Can you please lay down?”

The process was painful. The numerous cuts had been long and deep, and the process took quite a while. At first, the grey mare had uncontrollably twitched from the pain, unable to keep her nervous system calm as the sharp needle came through her skin. She tried to remind herself of other things, as the needle and thread passing through her flesh felt unnatural, and made her somewhat sick to her stomach. She looked over at the child, and tried to smile as best as she could, but was unable too. The child seemed to sense her discomfort, and trotted up and began to hold her hooves. The mare could do nothing but hold out. Finally, when the process was over, the white mare trotted back to her saddlebags, and this time returned with a roll of bandages. The wing was sorer than before, but the grey mare took comfort in knowing that it was doctored.

When the white mare finally finished the process, she stood up, and helped the grey mare to sit on her hindquarters. “I’m not sure how well I did, but I did the best I could with what we had.”

The grey mare could not move her wing still, but the white mare sat down in front of her, adjusting herself a few times to lay comfortably with her swollen belly. Her soft features were all too familiar to the grey mare, and in spite of her stark and dead environment, her eyes sparkled with life. When the white mare finally laid down, the grey mare noticed that her cutie mark was that of a syringe, filled with some pink liquid.

“You have a beautiful daughter.”

The grey mare looked down at the child, whom had crawled against her and fallen asleep. Her poor little body had been exhausted from the previous night, and the mare was happy that she was sleeping soundly. The bruises still shone on her light violet body, and the mare felt a twinge of the previous night’s rage surge through her. As it disappeared, she looked at her company, whom seemed to be looking at her patiently.

“Thank you.”

The white mare smiled, and looked down at her pregnant stomach. “I hope that my little one is beautiful too.”

“You’re a very pretty mare, so I’m sure they will be.”

“Thank you.”

The grey mare looked up and stared out into the surrounding trees. The forest was deathly silent. She looked up at the skies above. The grey cloud hovered above them, many other clouds darkening the day. She felt as if it should rain any minute, but it never did. 

“How long have you been without a home?”

The grey mare contemplated the question for a minute. Her first thought had been about the cave, but that had not been a home. They had no home, and they would never have another home. A part of the pointless optimism in her heart longed for a home; someplace where she and her child could stay and eat and sleep peacefully, without ever fearing any disturbance. That was not a realistic thought. She shook her head. “I don’t remember.”

The white mare did not look sad or confused, but she stated her response matter of fact. “You don’t?”

“I don’t think about it too much.”

The white mare was quiet for a minute. At first, the grey mare thought that she might have brought the stranger’s spirits down, but her company smiled, and looked at the surrounding trees thoughtfully. “I remember my home. It was a lovely little cottage. I loved lots of flowers, so I grew a lot of them.”

The grey mare nodded. “That sounds nice.”

“Do you remember your home?”

“Yes. It was a very nice home. I lived on the ground instead of in the clouds.”

“That’s not uncommon. Lots of Pegasi lived on the ground.”

“Yes. Not strange.”

The white mare seemed to be a very chatty and friendly pony. In spite of the environment she was living in, she seemed to be bright and lively. The grey mare remembered her previous friends, whom had been very much like her.

As if reading her mind, the white mare asked her about them. “I had lots of friends, but I didn’t have much family. Did you have many friends?”

The grey mare looked at her. The white mare’s eyes seemed to grow slightly dimmer, as if she was becoming sad by just thinking about it.

The grey mare answered truthfully. There was no reason to hide now. “I had lots.”

“Oh. What about your family?”

“I had another daughter, and a husband. I don’t want to talk about it.”

The white mare did not seem surprised at her answer, but she seemed to realize that she had gone a little too far. “I’m sorry. We can talk about something else.”

Later that dark day, the stallion had returned. He looked at the two mares, and he began to pick up his saddlebags. He wrapped a breathing cloth around his face, and his voice became muffled. He only spoke two words to them.

“Let’s go.”

The two mares stood up, equipped themselves, and followed him through the trees. The day was beginning to thin, and the darkness was growing. The mare felt the child shuffle on her back. She looked ahead, and could see the couple walking together. The white mare pressed against the stallion, and the stallion pressed back. The grey mare watched them.



***



A pleasant and gentle breeze bore a sweet and familiar smell to the grey mare as she contemplated the beautiful Spring day. The homely smell of some baker’s mouthwatering confection drifted through the air, and the mare felt a slight jab in her belly. Her little one had noticed it just as soon as she did.

The park was beautiful today. It was Sunday, and there was no post on Sundays. In fact, Sundays were the days that most ponies would either have off, or just the perfect kind of days to just laze about and enjoy life. She watched in the distance as her daughter scampered around joyously, chasing a pretty pink butterfly. The mare was lying on the bench, and her husband was beside her, looking over a newspaper that he had got the previous day, but had been too busy to read.

When the child lost interest in the butterfly, she bounced over to her parents, and beamed up at them. She was happy and energetic, but she seemed rather disappointed. “Mommy, how come there aren’t any other kids to play with?”

Surprised, the grey mare looked up and scanned the park quickly. Surely enough, the swing sets and sandboxes were empty, and even though a variety of stallions and mares seemed to be spread throughout the park haphazardly, there were no other children to be seen. There was a couple taking their baby for a stroll, but the baby was in a stroller. The mare was somewhat shocked, but she looked down at her daughter, whom seemed to be looking around like she was. 

“I don’t know muffin. Usually there are a lot of children around.” She paused thoughtfully, and then remembered the sweet smell of the baker’s. “I bet that they are all eating lunch right now! Wouldn’t you like something to eat too?”

As if answering for her, her daughter’s stomach growled loudly. The child blushed, and then laughed. “Yeah! I could go for some food! I’m starving!”

The grey mare’s husband, whom had now put away his paper, chuckled and poked his daughter in the side. “I can see that you’re starving terribly! You’re wasting away to nothing but skin and bones!” He teased.

The child poked her tongue out at him, and then beamed up at her mother. The grey mare began to stand, but as she found herself having a hard time doing so, her husband was at her side, helping her to her hooves. The child watched them, and when her mother stood up, she stared at the grey mare’s swollen belly.

“When’s she going to be born anyway? I really want someone to play with!”

The mare’s features softened, and she looked down at her belly. Yes, pregnancy was not the most pleasant or painless experience, but after all of the sicknesses, mood swings, and lots of pain, it was all worth it in the end when the newborn’s eyes would stare up into yours. She looked at her daughter and smiled.

“Soon Sparkler. Soon enough.”

The trio began to make their way to Sugarcube Corner; the young daughter bouncing joyfully ahead, and the wife and husband following behind, close together. The wonderful smell was still in the air, and the blue sky shone above brilliantly.

> Again
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


The Everfree had been empty for a long time. There was nothing left in this forest, except for the remnants of what had once been a dark and dangerous place. The trees, covered in the thick volcanic ash were dying, and what was left of the plant life was being smothered ash. The world was like a candle, that some great god had taken their finger and had snuffed the burning wick out. All that was left was the smoke, leftover from the smoldering wick. The smoke was like the ash, and it suffocated those who lived in it.

A large timberwolf had been heading towards them. The stallion had noticed the beast, and had instructed everyone to quietly hide behind the trees. As it passed, the grey mare could feel her daughter trembling and rubbing against her chest. Holding her breath, she stroked the child to comfort her. The filly was quiet, but her small defenseless body shook with fear. The grey mare watched as the timberwolf rose its nose in the air. It attempted to smell something, but with the ash, its sense of smell was rendered useless. Its bark looked to be charred, and its glowing eyes had dimmed.

The timberwolf did not attempt to try to search. It raised its head up high into the air and howled mournfully. The child trembled even more as the creature let out its cry. The grey mare watched it as it left, and then she looked towards the stallion and white mare. When she was sure that the beast was completely gone, she waited a few minutes, and then nodded to them. The stallion nodded back, and they wordlessly began to trot again.

“What was that mommy?” The small filly asked beside her.

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

“Is it going to die?”

“Yes. It will die.”

They wandered for a bit in the forest. The grey mare looked up, and she could see that the cloud was somewhat darker today. Surely enough, later a gentle rainfall began to drizzle upon them, making the ash beneath their hooves muddy and moist. As it began to fall harder, the wet ash and mud clung to their hooves like the desperate souls of the Styx. Eventually, they stopped, and took shelter in a large, hollow tree. The wind was cold, and the grey mare removed their blanket from her saddlebags and draped it over her daughter. Nearby, the stallion and his wife had done the same, with their own thick blanket. The pregnant mare had fallen asleep.

As the grey mare looked outside at the hopeless rain, she felt a hoof draping some of the blanket onto her. She looked down, and found herself underneath the tiny blanket. “Here mommy, you take some of the blanket too.”

“I’m fine muffin. I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

“I don’t want you to catch one either.”

The grey mare finally nodded. She reached down and nuzzled the child, hoping to edge some warmth onto her. The child pressed against her, nuzzled against her side and fell asleep. When she was sure that she was truly asleep, the grey mare took some of the blanket and spread more onto her. She kept some of it, but most of the blanket was covering the child now.

“You think this rain will stop today?”

The stallion had spoken to her. She looked back at him. “Why do you think I should know?”

“I don’t know. Because you’re a Pegasus.”

The sentence sounded more like a statement than a question. The grey mare had an intuition, but it never seemed to be right. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“How what works?”

“How should I know when the rain stops falling? I didn’t create it.”

“I guess so. I just figured that you would know.”

“Well, if I follow my intuition, then I think that the rain will stop falling today. I don’t know what time specifically though.”

“Well, when it stops, we’ll continue heading east.”

“East? We’re heading east? How can you even tell?”

A small sigh echoed in the shelter. The stallion looked down at his wife, and nuzzled her gently. She shifted in her sleep for a bit, and then settled against him again. The grey mare watched them both. She looked down at the child, and could feel her small warm body press against her. When she looked back up at the stallion sitting across from her, he was rummaging through his saddlebags. He pulled out a small silvery object, and held it up in his hooves.

“I have a compass. That’s how I can tell.”

“Why east then? What is there in the east?”

“I don’t really know. All I do know is that there is a railroad outside of the Everfree, and that railroad will lead to a city. There has got to be more food in the city than there is here.”

“There will also be more ponies you know.”

The stallion was silent, but the grey mare could tell by the hardened look on his face that he did not care if other ponies were there. Considering what he had been capable of with the group of strangers she had met previously in the forest, she knew that he was more than capable of defending himself and others.

“Where did you plan on going anyway?”

The grey mare shook her head. “There isn’t anywhere to go.”

“I suppose your right. There isn’t anywhere to go and there isn’t anything to do. You just do what you can to make it each day.”

“You don’t even know what to do when you have to do something. You want to hope, but you can’t really hope because you have to do something, but you never know what to do either.”

“You don’t do what you want to do; you do what you have to do. Everypony in this world does what they have to do, even if it means doing something terrible.”

“Even if it means eating others.”

“Not just that. There are much worse things than eating others.”

The grey mare didn’t want to think about it, so she didn’t reply anymore. She was desperate, and her daughter was desperate. She could have chosen to consume others, but she wouldn’t. She was adamant. The stallion seemed to be watching her instead of the rain. “What did you do previously anyway?”

The grey mare thought about it for a moment. “I was a mailmare.”

“You delivered letters?”

“Yes.” The grey mare pointed her hoof at the stallion. “What did you do?”

“I used to work on the rail ways.”

“You were an engineer?”

“Yes. I pulled the trains along the track.”

Considering the stallion’s size and figure, that did not come as a surprise to her. “That’s very impressive. But wouldn’t your special talent have to do with boxing instead?”

The stallion looked out into the rain. He watched it for a bit. At first, she had thought that she had insulted him, but he turned back to her. “I suppose. But that was never my job. My job was always pulling the trains.”

“Did you ever use your talent though?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“What do you mean?”

“My talent didn’t matter. In that world, there wasn’t any use for my talent. I did what I needed to do, and that was that. There wasn’t any destiny to it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I don’t think that there is such a thing as destiny.”

“You don’t believe in destiny?”

The stallion shook his head. His wife beside him shifted a bit. “No. I don’t think that I ever did. There wasn’t any point to it if it did exist. Destiny is like when something is already planned out. Did anyone plan for any of this? This isn’t a world for ponies or monsters or princesses or gods or goddesses. This world is dead, and we will eventually join it. And that will be that. 

The grey mare listened to what he had to say. In the end, she only had six words for him. “Is that what you really think?”

The stallion was resolute. “Yes. I always have. The entire point of our lives isn’t destiny or our talents or anything. The points of our lives are the other ponies in them. The only point to my life now is my wife and our child. That is what matters most now. The point of your life is your daughter, and that is what is most important to you.”

There was not anything to say anymore. The two of them looked out into the dead world, and watched the rain fall. It finished around the mid-afternoon.


***


When they came to a fork in the road, the white mare vomited. The stallion turned to look at her, and he rushed to her side. The grey mare watched them, and her child stood by her side. She watched the stallion lift his wife’s mane away from her face, and she continued to vomit. It was not much, and when she finished, she held her swollen stomach.

The stallion was frantic. “How are you feeling? What did you eat?”

The mare lifted herself and looked at him. She wiped her muzzle and tried to smile but couldn’t. “I’m fine. I’m just nauseated. I am pregnant after all.”

Regardless, the stallion did not leave her side. He helped her to the base of the tree, where she placed herself down. “I’m fine. I’m sorry, I just need to sit for a bit.”

The grey mare felt something at her side stir. The child poked her in the side. When she turned to look at her, the child looked worried.

“Is she sick mommy?”

“No muffin. When you’re pregnant, you throw up sometimes.”

“But she’s not sick?”

“No. She’s not sick.”

“That’s good.”

The stallion had removed a blanket and had draped it over the white mare. Walking back over to them, the stallion looked down the split road. Each side was overgrown with trees on either side, and the roads themselves were thick with brush. The forest had grown so thick now, that the grey cloud couldn’t even be seen anymore. It was dark and dim, but all of their eyes had adjusted. The stallion looked back at the grey mare.

“I know that we are heading east. Soon, we’ll be out of the forest.”

The mare looked down the roads. The stallion walked forward a bit on the left road, and he stood, watching down the path. The forest was quiet, and nothing but their breathing and the rustling of leaves could be heard.

“I think that we should look a little ahead, and see what’s out there.”

The grey mare shook her head. “We should wait. Let’s look down them later, when everyone is ready to go.”

“No. We don’t have to go down them very far. Just enough to see what’s out there.”

“So we should just leave her behind?”

The stallion’s eyes hardened. He began to approach her, but a voice called out from behind them. “Don’t worry about me. If you want to look ahead, then go look ahead. I’ll be fine here.”

The grey mare looked back at her. “I’ll look down them then. You both can wait here.”

The stallion trotted past her and laid beside his wife. “Fine then.” As the grey mare turned to leave, the child at her side poked her again.

“Can I come with you?”

“You don’t want to stay here?”

“No. I want to look with you.”

“You’re not tired?”

“No. Can I please come with you?”

The grey mare didn’t want to look very far. It had just been her daughter and herself before, but she had also had a functioning wing. Her wing would still throb on occasion, but that was nothing compared to the agony it had been before. She could now unfurl it, but she didn’t want to risk using it, lest she reopen the sealed wounds. The child’s bruises had faded from her body completely, but the mare still felt a silent fury within her as she remembered that she had even let her child be touched by another. The Pegasus smiled. “Of course you can. I had just thought that you were tired.”

Leaving the duo behind, the grey mare felt confident that when the white mare had rested a while, she would be ready to move again. She knew that the stallion would not dare to leave her side. The grey mare decided on the right path, and the mother and child walked a little ways down the path. The natural smells of the forest had all died out now, and the choking smell of ash lay prominent through the area. The trees above them were covered in ash, and as they moved forward, the mare attempted to stifle her coughing as to not disturb the child. She found, as she watched the child however, that the face cloth was beginning to wear, and the child seemed to be adjusting it more often. We’ll need to make new ones soon, the mare thought.

The path was straight, and it lead them to the edge of a cliff. The mare was surprised, and she almost did not see it coming. The child wanted to look off its edge, but the mare held her back. “You don’t know if the side may crumble.” Instead, the child opted to throw a small rock over its side. The trees at the edge seemed to grow out over the abyss, and the grey cloud was visible. From their vantage point, the mare could see that the forest continued on for a few miles, and then stopped abruptly, leading to a thin line that wove through the open land. Past that, there was nothing but mountains and hills.

“Mommy, can I get a boost?”

The grey mare hoisted her daughter onto her back, and the small filly stood and looked out over the view.

“What’s that line out there?”

“I think that it’s a rail way.”

“What’s a rail way?”

“Well, ponies used to use it to travel on trains. They would ride them, and it helped them get to places faster than walking.”

“Do you think that there are other ponies down there?”

“I don’t know.”

The child hoped eagerly down from the mare’s back. The mare knew that they would be leaving the forest soon, but it wouldn’t matter whether or not they knew the way if they could not make it down the cliff. They had been gone for a little while longer than she had planned, but they had found something good and she wanted to look a little more. The both of them walked along the cliff. When the child grew tired, the mare lifted her onto her back. Her wing was beginning to feel sore, but she couldn’t help that.

“Mommy, what is having friends like?”

The question came out of nowhere, and it caught the mare slightly off. She had always remembered her own friends, but the child had never really asked about friendship itself. The mare was honest.

“Having friends… It’s a wonderful feeling.”

The child shifted on her back slightly. She was interested. “Like how?”

“Well, friends are nice because they can tell when you’re hurting. Even though nopony else might. And you can tell the same for them. You care about one another. You enjoy being together.”

“Did you have lots of friends?” The mare had known this question was coming.

“Yes.”

“Was everyone your friend?”

“Maybe not everyone.”

“Who wasn’t?”

“I don’t know. Some ponies just weren’t.”

“Did you like them?”

The mare stopped to look out over the view again. She peered ahead for a minute, and then she spoke. “I don’t know. Sometimes I just didn’t know them.”

“Did they like you?”

“Sometimes you just never know.”

“What do you mean?”

The mare felt her wing throb. The child was moving around a lot, and she would occasionally hit the mare’s wing. The mare wanted to tell her to stop fidgeting, but she didn’t. The child didn’t know any better.

The mare grimaced, and she stopped for a minute. “Well, sometimes you don’t know if they actually like you or not.”

“Did you like your friends?”

The mare remembered her friends, and how utterly happy they had made her. “Oh yes. I liked them a lot.”

“What about them?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you…” The child paused. When the mare realized what she was asking, she stopped and peered back at her daughter. The child’s eyes looked from side to side, as if she was guilty from asking the question.

“Do you think they liked you back?”

The mare was silent.

“I’m sorry.”

The mare realized something. In her whole short life, the child had never once had any friend. She had never had any contact of any sort with anypony for long. The broken stallion had died before she could have even talked to him. The mare herself knew what friendship was, but her child had not. She didn’t have any idea about it. 

“No.” The mare spoke softly. “Don’t be sorry. You’re just curious. I think that they did.”

“I bet they did.” Those words made the mare feel warm inside. “But how do you know?” The child pressed on.

“How do you know what?”

“How do you know if your friends like you back?”

In the far, almost forgotten past, the mare had struggled with that feeling for a time. It had taken years for her to feel confident. She had been lonely, and even somewhat bitter at times, thinking that everypony was just out for themselves, and that true friendship and even love was something that only existed in the imagination of an innocent and unknowing child. Her friends, the ponies that she loved, had shown her otherwise. In spite of this, the mare answered as honestly as she could.

“I guess you just don’t know. You just hope that they care about you as much as you care about them.”

“Is that the rule?”

“Is what the rule?”

“Is that the rule that they have to like you back if you like them? If you’re nice to somepony, do they have to be nice back?”

The mare shook her head. “Not necessarily.”

“Why not?”

“I guess sometimes that’s just how ponies are.”

“Oh.” The child seemed disappointed.

The mare had been walking along the cliff for a while now. The trees had grown thicker and the mare had been forced to make her way through the trees, as they had grown practically off of the sides of the cliff. There was no sign of the cliff ending, and although the mare knew the way back, she felt herself growing tired. She felt the child’s stomach rumble against her back. Neither her nor the child had eaten today. When they returned soon, the mare decided, they would eat.

“Is the stallion our friend?”

The mare had just been thinking about the stallion. Surely by now the white mare had been feeling better, and she knew that she would head back soon. “Yes. I think he is.”

“What about the mare?”

“Yes. They both helped us even though they didn’t have to. I think that we’re all friends.”

This seemed to reassure the child, as she shifted on the mare’s back again. “That’s good. I really like them. I’m glad we’re friends.”

The mare looked back at her child. She was smiling. The sight made her smile as well. “I know. I am too muffin.”

The child shifted on her back to look at her. “What about your other friends?”

“What about them?”

“What happened to them?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think that they died?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I don’t think that they did.”


***


The mare had not kept a clock in years, but she figured that they had been gone for a little more than half an hour. The cliff had just pressed on and on. The forest had not lightened up, and only seemed to become thicker as they pressed on. The grey cloud lingered over them, and as the wing at her side throbbed, the mare remembered the strength of the cloud and pressed on. She decided that she would stop soon, and as she passed another tree, she saw that a large tree had fallen on its side, blocking their path. The branches and limbs lay scattered, and some of them dangled off of the edge of the cliff into the open air. The roots were covered in dirt, and like everything else in the world, a layer of ashes and dust smothered them.

She decided that she would have a look around the side of the log. If there was nothing but cliff on the other side, she would turn around and go back. She felt as if they had ventured down this path too long and too far. The path had ended long ago, and they had found nothing. The mare approached the roots of the dead tree, and stopped for a second.
She felt her ears jolt upward. Hoovesteps were approaching from somewhere. Grabbing her daughter, she threw herself onto the ground, and lay curled with her daughter. They lay among the tall ferns and weeds, and she hoped that the stirred dust and ashes would be ignored.

As they approached, the mare listened carefully and found that they were approaching from the other side of the log. Reaching into her saddlebags, she drew her knife and held it in her mouth. She could feel the child trembling as she lifted warily up, and her own heart beat quickened in her chest. As the hoovesteps began to fade away, she lifted herself and peered around the side, keeping most of her body hidden by the thick roots and earth clinging to them.

A lone, yellow stallion was approaching the cliff, and he held in his mouth a shriveled, colorless apple. The stem clenched between his teeth, the stranger seemed frantic, and he kept looking from side to side, as if he was being chased. He was skinny, and his red mane and tail were longer than the mare’s. She could hear his panicked breaths, and when he stood still, he seemed to dance around, as if too scared to stand completely still. He didn’t see the mare, and the mare realized that even if he could, he was no threat at all. The stranger didn’t have any saddlebags, and his only possession seemed to be the apple. 

The knife clenched in her teeth, she watched as the stallion approached the cliff, and looked off the side of it. He didn’t say anything, but he looked from side to side one last time, before he leapt off of it. The mare felt her heart stop for a moment as she watched.
He had just committed suicide. He had been so frantic and panicked to get away from whatever was chasing him that he had simply jumped to his death. She backed away from the roots, and she laid upon the ground again, her daughter still in her hooves. Thankfully, the child had not seen the stranger.

The mare waited, trying to keep herself as still as she could. The ash had settled around them, and she stifled her cough as she listened. The child let out a soft whimper, and the mare shushed her. They laid and listened for a while, both of their hearts beating so hard and fast that they felt as if they would pop any second. There was nothing but the usual silence of the forest.

At ten minutes, the mare didn’t feel as if anyone was coming. She was sure that the stranger had been pursued by something, but she didn’t hear anything else. She felt slightly more calm than she previously had, and when she felt sure, she stood up and walked to the roots of the tree. She looked around. There was nothing at the other side of the log. She walked around it, and kept her frightened daughter close.

“Mommy, who was that?” The child’s voice was squeaky and wispy.

“I don’t know. Here, take the knife and stand here while I look.”

“Mommy, please…”

“Take it.”

The child finally accepted the knife, and held it in her mouth. She stood there, trembling. The mare didn’t want her child to see the sight. She walked to the edge of the cliff where the stallion had jumped, and braced herself. Right along the edge of the cliff, there were a series of ledges, leading downward. They were covered in ash, but the mare could see the markings of hooveprints along them. There was no body at the bottom or along the side. There was no blood. The stallion had not jumped to his death. He had known about the cliff, and had made his way down safely.

When she walked back to the child, the child seemed relieved to give the knife back. The mare stored it away, and lifted the child onto her back again. “What were you looking at mommy?” The child was calmer now, but she still shook.

“I found a way down. There’s a safe way down the cliff.”


***


When they made their way back to the path, the day had grown darker. The mare felt that they had been gone for far too long. Exhaustion was smothering her like the ash, but she was relieved and excited that they had found a way down. But what then? She thought. 

What would they do when they were out of the forest?

The forest was neither better nor worse than the rest of the world.

As these thoughts buzzed in her head, she jumped slightly when the child spoke in her ear. “Mommy, do you want me to use my magic? I can’t see very well.”

The mare was about to decline the offer, but then she remembered the stallion and the white mare. She didn’t want to creep up on them, and she didn’t want to scare the stallion especially. If he didn’t know who they were, she didn’t want to think of what he might do. She thought for a minute, and then she finally declined. 

“No. Don’t worry. We’ll be back soon, and then we’ll rest and eat okay?”

When the grey mare recognized the area she was in, she knew that the stallion and mare were nearby. She decided to call out instead. She knew that they knew what she sounded like. “We’re back!” She shouted a little louder than she intended, but she was excited.

She did not hear any reply. “Okay muffin. Do you think that you can use your magic? Just a little so that we can see.”

“Okay.” The mare felt the area around her light up as the young unicorn used her magic. From where the child was on her back, she could hear the steady hum of the magic making its way into the physical world. As they approached closer, the mare smelled something. It was strong, and she felt as though it might be the vomit from before.

The grey mare could see them. The white mare was curled on the ground, sideways, and the stallion was laying beside her, his body draped over her. A puddle of crimson blood was beneath her, and she was completely still. The stallion was shaking, and as the mare approached, she could hear a soft sobbing.

She felt herself jump as the stallion’s head suddenly jolted upward and stared straight at her. Tears were streaming down his face, and his expression was that of utter, hopeless despair. The mare’s beautiful white coat was stained with blood, and a large gaping hole was cut into her abdomen, blood pooling from the wound. Her eyes did not sparkle, and instead were glazed with the look of death. The stallion’s hooves were covered in blood. Nearby him, lay the bodies of a blue mare and a green stallion, and a large puddle of blood seeped from their destroyed heads. Near where the greens stallion’s mouth should’ve been was a red carving knife.

“Mommy… the mare… she’s…”

> On
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


The grey mare felt something shaking her. As she blinked herself awake, she could see that the stallion was standing above her. He looked down at her, a dead expression on his face. “Get up. We’re going.”

Near her, she felt around for the child and gently woke her. The child was taking a little longer to wake up, and the mare placed her onto her back and began to trot. The stallion had already walked away, and was already a sizable distance away from them.

The trees had begun to thin, and the grey cloud was visible from where they were. The forest had begun to end, although they were not quite out of it. They had climbed down the cliff, and had slept that night at the bottom, concealed by an outcrop of rock. She and her daughter had been forced to eat the fiddlehead ferns. The stallion had not offered them anything, but she knew that he was not out of food. He himself had not eaten, and he walked in front of them, almost leading the way. He had not taken out his compass once, and the mare felt as though they were not heading east. From their view on the cliff, the forest edge was not that far away, but he was leading them away from it.

When the child was finally awake, she jumped down from her mother’s back and trotted along beside her. “Are you sure you don’t want to ride?” The mare inquired. The child said nothing and looked down at the ground.

When the stallion stopped, the mare and the child stopped. He sat down in a clearing, and he pulled his canteen from his saddlebags. He drank slowly, and looked off into the trees. He would stare at the trees, take a sip, and then stare at the trees again. He was like some watchdog that knew something or someone was out there, but made no move as to inquire what or who it was. When he was finished, he stood up without a word, and continued onward. If the mare had not been watching him, she felt that he would have left them behind.

They walked away from the cliff, and made their way into the thick trees. The trees did not look any more alive than they had elsewhere, but they had grown taller and thinner. Less brush was scattered about, although the ashes never ended. As they crossed a dead creek, the mare could see a clearing in the distance. Neither she nor the silent child were tired, but she wondered if the stallion would stop again to rest.

There was nothing special about this clearing. It was as empty and naked as the rest of the clearings had been. One of the trees near the edge of the clearing had a thick growth of ivy at its bottom. It was not poisonous, from what she could tell, but there was nothing really significant here. In spite of this, the stallion had stopped. He had not laid down to rest, but he looked about. When he saw the ivy, he walked up to it and peered through it. Seemingly, beneath it was a hole at the base of the tree. The grey mare watched the stallion, and thought that he seemed pretty strange looking with the upper half of his body in the hole.

“What are you doing?” She finally spoke.

Nothing but silence came from the stallion, and then a loud, terrified scream erupted from the hole. The mare felt herself jump, and the child beside her let out a frightening shriek of her own. The stallion frantically began to pull himself backwards, as if he had come into contact with something deadly in the hole. The mare was about to rush forward and help him, when he suddenly pulled himself out. He was holding something in his mouth, and he threw it to the center of the clearing. It was a yellow stallion, and a half eaten apple core had been thrown out with him.

When the stallion turned around, he sprinted towards the stranger and threw his whole body on top of him. By the time the stranger knew what was happening, it was much too late. A loud pop resonated through the woods when the stallion did this, and the stranger let out a cry of fear and pain. The stallion didn’t even need to hold the stranger down the way he did, considering that the stranger was so much frailer and skinnier than he was.

The stallion stood above him. The grey mare kept her distance, and she felt the child beside her trembling. The stranger was breathing hard, and the mare herself could feel her heart hammering in her chest. As the stallion looked down at him, the stranger struggled. He begged for his life.

“Please, I was so hungry! I didn’t mean it!”

The grey mare had known what was coming when they had found the stranger. She stood, stoically, holding her confused and scared daughter closer to her. The child pressed against her leg, and watched the stallion confront the stranger.

“Mommy? What is he…?”

The mare looked down and nudged her daughter to look the other way. “Don’t watch muffin. Cover your ears too.”

The child seemed scared now, and she turned away from the scene. The stallion had now taken the stranger’s front leg, and seemed to be bending it in an unnatural way. The stranger was screaming in fear and pain, but the stallion did not say anything. When the stranger’s leg snapped, a loud scream and crack emitted from him. In spite of her covered ears, the child jumped from the mind staining noise, and began to shiver.

After the stallion had finished, he took his time in breaking the other three legs. It took about twenty minutes for him to completely cripple the stranger, but the mare knew that he could have done it much quicker with his strength.

She could not see the stranger, and she did not want too. The stallion turned to look at her, and she thought that it was finished. “Give me your rope.”

When she realized what he was going to do, she stood her ground. “No.”

He was silent for a minute, and then he walked up to her. His face in hers, his eyes were cold as the darkness. “I said, give me your rope. I know you have one.”

The grey pushed her child behind her. She stood her ground, and did not move an inch. Her saddlebags were mere inches away, but she stared back at him. “No. This isn’t right. What would she have said?”

The stallion snarled. He was not in his right mind anymore. “I will ask you one more time. Give me your rope.”

She could feel the child trembling behind her. “No. I’m not going to give you the rope. Don’t you think about touching my daughter.”

The adrenaline pumping through her body now was exhilarating. His eyes were like daggers, but her eyes were like swords. Only a mother would have been able to comprehend the strength and courage that possessed her, with her trembling and scared child hiding behind her, confused and unsure of what was going to happen. Her heart was beating fast. They stared at each other for a while. The yellow stallion nearby whimpered. Finally, the stallion turned away. He did not say a word. 

When he approached the stranger, he reached into his own saddlebags and pulled out a rope himself. The mare did not question why the stallion had a rope of his own, but her mind was reeling with other thoughts as the stallion tossed the rope over a high sturdy tree limb. With one end, he began to tie it to one of the stranger’s broken back legs. With the other end, he pulled backwards.

Oh Celestia.

The child had walked to the front, and began to see the stranger being lifted from the ground. He began to move about in the air, and let out squeaky, pitiful screams. The mare grabbed her child and pulled her face into her chest. “Don’t look. Cover your ears.”

The child jumped amidst the cracking and screaming. The mare turned the both of them around, but it wouldn’t do any good. As the child began to shake and her breathing began rapid and panicked, the mare hugged her close. 

“Please stop… please stop…” The child whimpered, but the stallion continued.

In the end, the only noises that could be heard was the constant dripping of something from the tree limbs. The stallion walked past her.

“Leave him.” His voice was as cold as ice.

The mare guided her daughter forward, barely catching a glimpse of the stranger’s horrid state as she glanced around to verify it. He hung from a tree, from his broken back leg, writhing and twitching in an unknowable agony. They turned and left. She could feel the stranger’s blood on her hooves. The child trembled.

He took them a different way than they had come previously. The mare knew that he did not want them to come back. He was leading them haphazardly so that they could not find their way back. He did not speak to them for the entire time. The child was not crying, but she kept close to her mother. For a while, she had been giving the stallion a look of utter despair, but when he had not looked back at her, she had stopped. Her head drooped now, but she did not cry.

By the time they stopped, the mare could feel her stomach growling. The stallion sat down a distance away from them, and stared out into the forest. Knowing better than to bother him, the mare removed the last of the fiddleheads that she had leftover in her saddlebags. She placed a few in front of her daughter. Her daughter had stopped trembling, but she had a blank expression on her face. “Muffin… please eat…” The child simply stared at them.

When the night fell and the darkness rose, the mare gripped the child in a soft grasp and pressed herself against a tree trunk. She had removed her saddlebags and placed them nearby, but she had removed the knife. The stallion had not moved or spoken since he had stopped. As the mare had watched him, she had begun to get a bad feeling. She could not read minds, as that was not her talent, but her intuition and instinct told her that the stallion was going to do something. The child seemed to sense it too, and cuddled against her mother, longing for her protective nature. The stallion’s state of mind reminded her of something, but she shook her head, trying to forget the unforgettable.

Don’t remember, Her thoughts echoed, Please don’t remember…


***


A light rain pattered on the window panes as the day slowly began anew. The grey cloud was outside, and it sent a gentle rain, awakening the day peacefully but suddenly. The grey mare was sitting at the bedside, and her hoof was placed over the young mare’s sheets. She was still, and her breathing had stopped during the night.

The grey mare stared out of the window panes, a faraway and dead look in her golden eyes. She had tried, she had tried, and she had tried and she had tried. It had all been for nothing. What had gone wrong? Her tears had dried, and now she was as numb as the body was.

Under the sheets, the body was heavily wrapped and bloodied. Bandages had not been lacking in their stores, but medicine and stitches were nowhere to be found. Those had been long cleared out by the desperate ponies before them. He had searched, while she had stayed behind. The precious baby in the other room was either sleeping or awake, but in the state of mind that the grey mare was in, she could not hear or understand.

They had been looking for something to eat. They had been looking for something as simple to eat. They had met others, and the others had attacked them. While her husband had engaged another, she saw a stranger looking towards her, with desperation in her eyes. The stranger had rushed towards her, and she had taken her eyes off of her daughters for a second. It had only taken a split second. When she had looked again, her daughter was lying on the ground, curled around the infant protectively, with a pool of blood appearing at her side. The stallion that had done the deed was dead, but the damage had been done. They had found an abandoned apartment, and had set up a barrier. Her husband not only left to look for supplies, but he also swore that he would look through every nook and cranny in every hospital until he found the proper necessities.

The mare screamed. She screamed louder than she had every screamed before in her life. She fell to the floor, wings a flare and her hooves gripping her skull. She screamed so hard and so long that she felt her vocals cords begin to throb in her throat, and she still screamed. Tears fell from her face harder than the rain outside did. When she finished, she wanted to lift herself up, but she kept herself on the floor, her head rubbing against the coarse carpet.

“Sparkler no… please no…”

The mare looked up. Her husband stood at the doorway. He was rugged looking, but still handsome. He stared into the room. A moment of silence and understanding moved between them. He fell to the floor, and began sobbing. The mare laid her head back down. The rain continued to patter against the window panes.


***


The stallion was gone and he would not come back. He had left his saddlebags behind alongside hers. When the grey mare checked, she found that there was still food left in them. Enough for her and the child. It wouldn’t last forever. It never lasted forever. It would be gone soon enough, and the mare knew that they would be hungry again. For now, however, they would not, and they would be satisfied.

He had left in the dark, and had left behind a cold feeling that the mare felt penetrate her very being. It was a dead feeling, and she found herself disturbed by it. When she turned to look at the child she could see that she was already awake. The filly had not moved, but stared at her mother with sleepy eyes.

“Where did the stallion go?”

The mare shook her head. “I don’t know muffin.”

“Why did he leave like that?”

The mare was silent. As if I really needed to think about it, she thought to herself. It reminded her of whom she had lost, which made an uncomfortable sensation in her belly. “He was really upset muffin. He misses her.”

The child glanced away into the trees, and then turned and looked down at her hooves beneath her. “I didn’t get to say goodbye…”

When the mare began to switch the food from the stallion’s old saddlebags into her saddlebags, she recounted the items that she had in total. When she finished, she felt her stomach drop into her lower abdomen. An item in her saddlebag was missing.


***


They were alone again. It felt strange to the mare, as she had gotten so used to the stallion and his wife being around. She felt a sense of loneliness, but as she watched her child, she knew that she would never truly be alone. They were both lonely, but they would have each other. They had no one else, but no one else had them. They were each their own. It was then that the mare realized that she needed her daughter more than her daughter needed her. She felt selfish, but a strong feeling of love overwhelmed her. They trotted, side by side, through the forest.

She had taken the stallion’s compass, and she was now using it. They continued east. The mare knew that there was nothing for them in the east. There was nothing for them anywhere. The world was like an empty jar that had been left in the darkness of some abandoned shelf. It was empty and lifeless, and had been abandoned long ago. Eventually, a cold, dark wind would come and sweep it off the shelf. It would shatter into pieces on the ground, and there would be nothing left.

They came to the edge of the forest, but the sky was darkening. They had been traveling all day, and would’ve traveled faster. The mare’s wing no longer bothered her, and though she wasn’t a doctor, as they sat down to rest at the forest edge, she removed her bandages to look. The crucial feathers had mostly grown back and so had the fur. The wing was still a fiery red from the burns though, and she wondered if that would ever fade. The stitches were still there, and they zig zagged across the wing in an unnatural way. As she unfurled her wing, she felt no pain and as she flapped it cautiously, she felt nothing. She flapped it a little firmer, and winced as she felt a jolt through her body. It was small, but she had not expected it. The child watched her, and looked at her wing alongside her.

“Does your wing still hurt mommy?”

“Not really. I think that I could use it if I needed to.”

The child pointed with her hoof. “What about those stiches?”

“I’ll have to remove them.”

The mare reached into her saddlebag and pulled out the knife and pliers. She would have cringed when she saw them, but she did not want to upset her daughter. She took the knife in her mouth, and twisted her neck to reach her wing. She was able to slip the small blade between the thread and the wing. She carefully cut the thread, and could feel a sting as the thread vibrated and set her nerves off. She had never done anything like this to herself before, and it made her sick somewhat. When one of her eyes focused on her daughter, her daughter’s face had paled.

When she had cut the thread thoroughly, she took the pliers and took hold on the cut thread. She pulled, and the thread began to slowly slip out of the wound. The pain was not unbearable, but the thought of the thread making its way out of her unnaturally made her somewhat nauseous. After a long and slow period of time, she had it removed. When she turned to her daughter again, she was surprised to see that the child had brought her a few new bandages. The child was shaking as the mare took them from her, and her face was still pale.

When she finished the work, the mare hugged the child strongly. The child still shivered, but she nuzzled herself against her mother’s warm chest.


***


As darkness began to fall over the wood, the mare took the child back into the forest. Though they were practically free now, she felt as if the cover of trees were safer than the open land beyond the woods. As they ate a small meal of tasteless apples and pears that night, the child barely ate.  When the darkness had completely fallen and there was nothing to see but blackness, the mare and filly nuzzled together at the roots of a tree. The mare had taken the stallion and the white mare’s blanket and had draped it over them. She had taken what leaves she could find, and covered themselves with leaves. Though it was dark, she felt more camouflaged when she did this. They had slept like this before, and it seemed to work fine.

As she felt herself drifting to sleep, the child beneath her stirred.

“Mommy. I need to go pee.”

The mare lifted herself up slightly. She couldn’t see her daughter, but she could feel her in the darkness. “Really badly?”

“Really badly.”

The mare wanted to sigh, but she knew that the child couldn’t help it. She lifted them up, and she walked with her child into the dark woods. There were no lights to be seen in the distance anywhere, and the mare gave the child permission to use her magic. After they had walked a few feet away from their sleeping place, the child stood beside a tree. The mare turned away.

“Don’t look.” The child spoke.

The mare waited a few minutes. After what seemed like ten minutes of waiting, she could feel her drowsiness and exhaustion overtaking her. She wanted to respect the child’s space, but she was taking far longer than she usually did. “Muffin, are you alright?”

The child was silent. The area was still brightened, but she did not say a word. The mare felt as though something was wrong. She turned to her daughter, and found her daughter staring up into the trees. Her eyes were wide. She was whispering.

“Oh no… oh no…”

Above them, about twenty feet, was a still body hanging from the trees. As the mare looked closer, she could see that a long rope was tied around the pony’s neck. It seemed to be a stallion that had a brown coat and black hair. A sickening smell accompanied him. The wind gently made the body dangle, and he stirred from side to side, like a snake about to pounce. The rope was the mare’s.

The child was crying. The grey mare pulled her close and nuzzled her. She could feel her own tears begin to dribble down her face. The child’s face soaked the mare’s coat, but the mare pulled her closer. The tightened rope above them was creaking, and the leaves above were rustling.

“Why did he do it mommy… why?”

“He couldn’t take it. I’m so sorry Dinky… I’m so sorry…”


***


They had buried him as best as they could. The grey mare had dug a very small hole to the best of her ability, while her daughter had watched. As she dug, she would look over at her daughter, and could see a devastating expression of grief and sadness on her face. She could tell that her daughter was trying her hardest to not look at the corpse, keeping her body turned away from it as best as she could.

When the grave was dug, the grey mare lowered the body in as best as she could. She couldn’t make a coffin, so the corpse was simply laid down into the hole. She had tried to fold his forelegs, but she found them stiff. In order not to damage him any further, she decided to simply lay him into the hole. After she had pushed the leftover dirt on top of him, she and her daughter stood there at the shallow grave.

“Would you like to say a few words?” The grey mare asked her daughter.

The child had her head hanging low, and her eyes closed. She looked up at her mother when she spoke, and the mare could see that her eyes were practically swelling with unshed tears. The grey mare’s eyes were stinging and wet, and she could feel a throbbing sensation in her throat, and a nauseating churning in her stomach. But no tears came out. Her daughter trembled beside her, and lowered her head.

“I…” She tried.

The filly swallowed quietly. “I…” She repeated.

“I…” The last repeat was barely a squeak, but the mother could still make it out. With that last word, the filly could hold it in no longer. Her small body shivered, her eyelids closed, and her lips quivered. A sobbing noise erupted from her throat, and tears slid silently down her face.

As she felt her daughter press into her leg, the mare forced a few words out. “We didn’t know him very long, but he seemed like a good stallion. A good stallion and a good husband. And…” Her voice shook. “I’m sure that he would have made a good father for his child.” 

The grey mare remembered in her younger days when she visited a graveyard for a funeral. The place was quiet, and a sense of calm and peace resided over the area. A common phrase was often repeated on the headstones there, and in this moment of sadness, the grey mare recalled it. “Rest in peace.” She spoke. “Rest in peace.”

It had felt like they had been there for years, standing in front of the shallow, makeshift grave, and mourning the loss of a stallion that they had barely even known for a few weeks. When the two finally turned away and set off again, the mare realized that it probably hadn’t been for more than ten minutes. 

When they came out of the forest, they came upon the old rail way. The grey mare paused for a moment, contemplating the path they should take. She had used railroads to travel before, but what she had did was stick close enough to the rail way so that she could see it, but far enough away so that if somepony was on the rail way, then she could not have been ambushed. If the rail way led them into a city or town, then maybe they could find some food. They weren’t quite out yet, but the meager supplies they had would probably only last them a week if they rationed them properly.

She decided to take the chance and follow the rail way. Using her compass, she confirmed that they were still heading east, and the duo began to follow the rail way, keeping to the forests edge. It was still much safer to stay in the woods than it was on the open.

The mare recalled the morning after the burial. She had taken the stallion’s saddlebags and had taken them apart as best as she could. They hadn’t been better than hers, but the fabric had been thick and good and she had used some of it to make new face cloths for them both. Since they also had a new blanket, she had taken their old blanket and had fashioned a makeshift coat for the child. Her child was small, and there wasn’t much to the blanket, but the grey Pegasus herself was naturally warm and used to cold weather above the clouds. The child was a unicorn and quite small, and thus she had made a coat for her. The child had not spoken since the burial, but when the mare held out the coat for her, the child took it in her hooves and looked at it. At first, the mare had thought that she would not wear it, realizing how ugly it was, but the child had given her a big hug and put it on.

In the afternoon, the grey cloud began to rain, and the mare and child took shelter underneath the trees. At this point, as they sat wet and muddy, the mare wished that she had a tarp of some sort, so that they could keep themselves from getting wet. Where they would be going, there wouldn’t be many trees to hide under, and unless they found another cave or shelter of some sort, they would be wet and cold.

She felt her child shivering underneath her, and the mare decided that it was enough. Placing the child on her back, she bent her wings as to protect her daughter from the elements and set off, continuing. Surely, she thought, there must be something around here somewhere.
They trekked through the wet mud and ash and she continued to look. The rain was falling harder now, and the grey Pegasus found herself beginning to lose some of her natural warmth. She peered through the rain, and hoped that she would see something but she didn’t.

“Mommy, what’s that over there?”

The little filly pointed out with her hoof and the mare looked. Outside of the forest, on the rail way, seemed to be some strange, dark structure standing out in the open. It was a large, square shaped object, and as the mare peered closer, she could see that it was a box car. It looked to be made out of wood, and as she looked up and down the rail way, she could see no train or other cars out. This one had just been left abandoned. 

The mare drew her knife and peered inside cautiously. There was nopony in here, and the car was empty. Save for a few barrels in the corner and the floor being covered in hay and ashes, it was safe and dry. They took shelter in it from the rain. As the child lay under a blanket, peering out into the thick downpour, the mare looked about for something useful. The three barrels were empty and the hay was inedible. 

There was nothing to do with the loose floorboards, and soon the mare joined the child. The hay itself was old and dirty and not any good to eat. The child’s coat had been soaking wet, and the mare removed it and set it out to dry over the barrels.

Suddenly, an idea entered the mare’s head. Standing up, she trotted over to the barrels and inspected their bottoms. When she found the one she was most satisfied with, she shifted it over to the door. Taking it a few feet away from the box car, she let it sit out in the rain and fill. It would be filled in no time, and they would have something to drink while they waited. When they were done, they would be able to refill their canteen as well. Maybe even bathe.

When the grey mare was finished, she rejoined the child in the box car, and huddled beside her. Though the car was dry, it was still cold from the wet breeze that the grey cloud would blow inside. Thankfully, the child beside her was not shivering nearly as bad as she had been.

“Mommy, what do you think happened to that stallion from yesterday?”

The mare looked thoughtfully out into the rain. She didn’t want to answer, but she didn’t want to lie. “I don’t know muffin.”

“Do you think he’s dead?”

“No. But he probably wishes he was.”

The child beside her shifted. The mare glanced down at her, and the filly was fiddling her hooves. “Why did the other stallion do that to him?”

“Sometimes, when ponies get really angry or upset, they try to get revenge. It doesn’t do anything though. It just makes everything worse.”

“Should we try to find him and help him mommy?”

Physically, the mare felt as clean as she would in this world. Mentally, she felt completely drenched in filth. She had accepted at this point that there was nothing she would do, and until she passed from the world, she would feel the blood of others thrust upon her. There hadn’t been anything that she could do, but guilt was a powerful feeling. It would not leave easily. “I can’t remember where he is. I don’t think we could have help him.”

“Even if we tried our hardest?”

The mare nodded. “Yes. Even if we tried our hardest.”

“He’s going to die isn’t he?”

“Yes. He will die. I’m sorry Dinky.”

The child reached up and patted her mother’s back. She nuzzled her side. “Don’t say you’re sorry mommy. It wasn’t your fault. Sometimes, things just happen. Remember? Sometimes you just can’t do anything.”

The mare didn’t feel it. The child beside her sighed and laid on her side. The grey mare looked down at her and nuzzled her. She smiled. 

“Thank you muffin.”

> Epilogue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


The day was as grey as it always was. The feeling was always melancholy as it had always been. It had not always been like this. There was a time when the grey mare would sit along her friends and they could enjoy their lives and not worry about much. There was no worry for food or water or warmth because the world had been such a lively place.

She would have gone to a party, and had seen different mares and stallions dancing and laughing and having a great time. She would have walked over to the punch table and had taken a few sips as she had watched everyone. Then, a handsome stallion would have walked up to her and asked her to dance. She would’ve obliged, and they would have gotten to known each other. Afterwards, he would ask her on a date, and she would have said yes. She would be nervous, because it was her first date, and her friends would have encouraged her.

The date would be a success and she would return home happily. She remembered the moments she would share with her friends. She would work as a mailmare and she would enjoy seeing a pony’s bright shining face every morning. Maybe not every face was bright and shining, but it was worth seeing the ones that were.

She would share a Hearth’s Warming Eve with her friends, and they would sit around the fireplace, telling stories and jokes. She would have a story about the time that she accidently wrecked the town hall, or the time that she had dressed herself in brown paper bags for Nightmare Night. They would all laugh, and she would laugh with them. She would live her life happily, and, in a sad way, she now realized how much she had taken for granite.

But, she thought as she trotted down the road, At least I have those memories.

It was a moment before she realized that the child was not at her side. The grey mare turned and looked around. Behind her, a few feet away, the filly had stopped, and was staring at something on the side of the road. The mare approached her, and could see that a bleached skeleton was lying on the side of the road. It was small, about the size of half-grown pony, and it was curled in its death position. The ashes that covered it stirred, like some pale funeral petals being strewn to the wind. The child stared at it, an unreadable expression on her face.

The grey mare led the child away, and the child followed along behind her. She was staring at the ground. The grey cloud was above them, and the mare looked up at it. There was nothing bright, and there was not a single sign of the beautiful blue sky that had once glowed so brightly above them. There were no Pegasus ponies, and the cultivated fields around them were covered in ash and inedible weeds. There were no Earth ponies to cultivate or grow them. Her little daughter was alone, and there were no other Unicorns or foals for her to interact with.

“Mommy?”

“Yes, my little muffin, what is it?”

“Your friends all died didn’t they?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to lie to me mommy. They died didn’t they?”

The mare stopped in her tracks. She lowered her head.

“Yes.”

“All of them.”

“Yes. All of them.”

“That’s all we ever do. That’s the only thing anypony ever does. There isn’t any point to life is there? All we do is die.”

The mare turned around, her daughter’s words shocking her. Her daughter had sat on the road and was looking down. She had removed her face cloth, and had thrown it down. Her eyes did not shed any tears, but she kept a stoic, and somewhat vacant expression. The grey mare approached the child, but she did not look up. The mare removed her own face cloth.

“You can’t think that way.”

“Why not?”

“Because it isn’t a good way to think.”

“But it’s true.”

“Just because something is true doesn’t mean that it’s right.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I mean, you have to remain optimistic.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means hopeful. You have to remain hopeful. You have to keep trying.”

“But why?”

The child looked up at her. The grey mare stared into her child’s eyes, filled with affection and care. The child’s eyes were glistening, but she did not cry.

“Because… because we’re together.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have you, and you have me. We have each other. And I love you more than anything else in this world.”

The child actually smiled. She reached up, and hugged her mother. The mother hugged her back.

“I love you too mommy.”

“And that’s all that matters.”

As the two broke from the hug, the mare gently tied the face cloth back onto her daughter’s face, and then placed hers on as well. As she was about to turn, the child spoke again.

“But we’re going to die aren’t we?”

The mare looked at her daughter. She could not lie. “Someday we will. But not today. Not tomorrow. Not anytime soon. Okay?”

The child looked down at the ground. She fiddled her hooves, as she usually did. She was silent, and then she looked back up at her mother.

“Okay.”

The mare nodded. “Okay.”

Until they came to a stop that night, the little filly remained quiet for the rest of the day. That night, in the cold dark huddled under the blanket, the filly cuddled close to her mother, and the mother wrapped her hooves tightly around her. The child asked her mother about her foalhood. The grey mare smiled, and told her quietly.



***



The bright blue sky shone above her, and the misty mountains in the distance seemed to be beckoning her. She looked around for a bit, surrounded by white puffy clouds that seemed to be springing with joy. The air was scented with the smells of springtime, and the land was reawakening, becoming new once again in its endless cycle.

She looked down, and could see the houses below her. As her unique yellow eyes focused to make out the correct one, another Pegasus pony passed by her and shouted out a greeting, to which she waved enthusiastically in reply. When she finally spotted the house she wanted, she dove down, careful to keep her momentum slow as to not over judge her speed and accidently crash like she was so well known for.

A smile beamed on her face, and she focused on the house. There was a special letter that had been waiting to be delivered, and that was what she found the most joyous about her job. It wasn’t her talent, but it didn’t matter. She was happy.

Like the leaves in the wind or the grace of the Pegasus ponies that practically swam through the sky, a gentle breeze of letters followed behind her, waving and twisting in the breeze. Soon she would realize this, and would happily collect the letters when she realized that a few crucial ones were missing. The idyllic breeze fulfilled the wishes of the earth bound ponies below, making the everyday spring season seem like a paradise.