Wind Trotter
The wind howled past his ears. He tightened the scarf around his neck. It had been one week. One week since she’d left him for dead. How could it have come to this? How did he let himself get lost in their relationship? He shook his head. It was just that stupid mare’s fault. They were all the same. They always left for the smallest things.
Maybe he had taken it too far, though. What if he’d overstepped his boundaries? They’d already been together for around for a year. Was he supposed to wait longer then that? How long did stallions usually wait? He wasn’t getting enough just from kisses anymore. He needed more. Even if it only was once a month, it would help him live better. No, that wouldn’t happen, though. He’d showed interest. She’d pushed him away. He walked faster.
That made was insane. She had to be. He’d embodied the perfect man. He was nice. He listened. He did what she’d asked. What could he have done wrong? She had to be the problem. He’d tried. That was enough.. right? He picked up the pace, only to run face first into a light post.
“Great..,” he grumbled, after falling backwards. He rubbed his forehead. He still had to get used to not having a horn. Due to the ‘scandal’ he pulled, he had to create a new alias. He was now just a rather drab looking Pegasus, at least in his eyes. Why did she have to expose his identity to everyone? Well, at least it wasn’t his true identity. He wasn’t sure he’d still be alive if she’d found that one out.
He finally shifted himself, regaining his standing position. He ran his tongue over his still-present fangs. Despite his efforts, they would not go away. It was rather annoying. It was a symptom of starvation. He couldn’t get enough love though a romantic partner. Soon, even sex wouldn’t give him enough. He’d have to drain a pony of their love, or at least close to it. They’d recover, though. They always did. So why did it matter to them? It was only two small cuts. They took at most a week to heal. What was wrong with that?
He dusted themselves off. Ponies were just selfish. He looked up at the sky. The moon was nearing the horizon. The ponies would be coming out for morning duties. He'd have to assume a secret identity again. He was sick of it. Sick and tired of hiding, but what could he do? It would be suicide for sure. The ponies fear them. They always have, always will. There was so way he'd every be able to show what he truly was.
The first pony came out. A simple earth pony. She had drab looking brown mane and coat. He held in a scoff at the site. Mares push him away, yet don't even try to look presentable? It was rather odd how hypocritical they could be. They tell him that he doesn't try hard enough, yet they barely put in any effort. How could one have such double standards? He walked past the mare. She was just a reminder of how annoyed he was with his ex, and annoyed that he couldn't find another. He couldn't stoop as low as to date her, though. He'd rather die of starvation then date another mare that would talk down to him. He felt like he didn't deserve that.
The sun peaked on the horizon. Now, ponies were coming out of their houses rather quickly. He was soon swarmed in the marketplace by ponies wishing to buy produce or other items. He personally didn't need any food, but it helped lessen suspicion. He took out a couple of bits he'd taken from his ex. It was far less then he could have taken. He looked over all the vendors. Most were for raw foodstuff. Lots of apples, as well as fruit and vegetables. Others served meals, and few sold supplies. He first got a bushel of apples, then visited a stand to get some information.
"Is there any place to stay here?" He asked the cream and red colored pony behind the counter.
"Yeah, but what's a guy like you doin' in our town?" She stallion behind the counter asked, becoming inquisitive.
"Just passing though, and I need a place to stay," he said, his eyes narrowing. He really didn't have time to play these games. His life was at stake.
"Well, there's an inn on the west side. Just don't think you're staying for too long," the stallion said, crossing his hooves. "What's your name, anyway?"
"Wind Trotter," he said on the spot. He mentally smacked himself. He walked away from the stallion before he could say anything.
So there was an Inn. Most likely, he could find a mare drunk enough to bed him, after turning into their crush our other romantic interest. It couldn't be that hard. Before new laws were passed, all changelings did was turn into others. How could it be too difficult? He would just walk in, and ask a mare if they were with someone. Ask what they look like, go to the bathroom, and change. He smiled before being hit onto his flank. He hadn't been paying attention. And of course, he was face to face with a mare.
"Oh, my Celestia, I'm so sorry, I was just caught up in my own mind!" she said frantically, scrambling off of him. She looked worried that she'd just hurt him. He rolled his eyes. Her worry was misplaced. If she had done anything worse, it would be her she'd hope wasn't going to get hurt.
"Clearly," he snapped, standing. He dusted himself off. He had no time to make smalltalk with this clumsy and annoying mare. The sooner she left him alone, the sooner he could be comfortable again. Well, as comfortable as he could be whilst starving.
"I, uh, still apologize. I should have watched were I was going," the mare said, looking away. She was annoying him beyond compare.
"Just leave," he demanded. He was tired of this mare. Nothing would please him more than to have her out of his life.
The mare flicked her ears back. "Uh, yeah," she said before turning away. She didn't know why he'd be so.. she didn't know, rude? What could she do, though? Tell him that he'd hurt her, 'emotionally'? She walked away. He was left alone.
"Finally..," he said, rolling his eyes. "I didn't know how long it would take to get her to leave me." He was glad she'd finally gone. With that mare around, he couldn't properly think. It was as if mares were a plague.
He eventually found the Inn the stallion had told him about. He let out a sigh of relief, only to open the doors to a mare at the front counter. 'Of course,' he thought, suppressing his need to roll his eyes.
"Now, how may I help yah?" She asked in a sweet voice. Her curly red main bounced as she spoke.
"I'm looking for a room," he said, his tone cut and dry. He hummed quietly. She was actually well trimmed and taken care of. Even if she was off-putting, she was his current first choice as a meal. Maybe he could invite her up to his room for 'fun'. Mares would fall for anything.
"Well, luckily for ya, one of tenants just set out. Such a nice fella. The room is clean, the second door on your left," she said, giving him a wink. He believed it was just friendly, but there could be more there. He'd just keep her in the back burner.
He took the keys from her. The hall was fairly short. As she'd said, the first door on his left was his. He opened the door to find a simply furnished living room. Past that, a kitchen he'd never use, a bathroom, and next to it, a fairly large bedroom. He peered inside. There was a king-sized bed with white sheets, and at least ten pillows. He walked over to the bed.
"Hm. I can bleach these," He said. At least one thing they did right here. 'Well, time to hunt down some petty mares," he thought to himself. After he was satisfied that his door was locked, he went back into town.
Trotting down the same way, he saw many more ponies out and about. They all had a 'thing' about them. They were short. They were tall. They wore clothing. They liked books. All simple things, really, yet these ponies acted as though it was what defined them. Giving a sigh, he looked about the small town he found himself in. Cobble paths paved way for earth ponies and unicorns, whereas houses were built to be short enough for Pegasus to have enough room without bumping into anything. It was well thought out.
As 'Wind Trotter' walked about, he caught sight of the local bar. It was too early for anyone to be there. Next to it, a small shop. Trotting over, a small sign could be seen. 'Writer Needed' it read. With little thought, he put an image of two paper wings being covered with ink on his flank. He walked inside.
The first thing that hit him was the smell of old books. It was such a relaxing sent. Next, the maple desks, and small stacks of paper. Each one had a nice view out onto the town, or had a fishbowl or other trinket for them to look at. Everyone was at work, the sound of quills gliding softly off the hoof-pressed paper. A stallion not much taller then him with a grey coat and darker grey mane walked up to him.
"How may I help you today?" He asked, his tone soft. His light brown eyes were the only pit of color he had.
"I saw the sign out front. Are you still looking for an additional writer? I just moved to town, and am looking for a job," Wind said, keeping his tone smooth. He saw a couple of the ponies glance up from their work to see who this new person was, before refocusing.
"Yes, we still do offer that job. Would you mind writing something small for us? I would like to see you style of writing before deciding," the soft spoken stallion said. He was surely a shy one. His wings shifted a bit. It seemed this town attracted pegasi more then any other race.
Wind walked alongside whom he presumed to be his future boss, taking in more of the office. It was serene, calm. He felt his anger dissipate quickly the more he was here. Even with mares in here, he was happy.
"Please, come right in," the greyscale stallion said, holding the richly colored door open for Wind. He nodded, trotting through the passageway. The office was small, yet cozy.
"What would you like me to do?" Wind asked, smiling softly. It was nice here.
"Write using one of the prompts, please," he said, pointing to a stack of papers next to the plaque 'Quiet Quill'. So that was his name.
"Yes, sir," Wind said, taking one of the sheets. Out of the 10 given, he chose 'The dark figure weaved through the crowd, trying to find his light'. The young stallion took his seat, weaving his tale. It took about thirty minutes, but he soon had a 5 page short story about the dark figure needed the light to survive, endlessly fighting each other yet never wanting to be apart. He thought it an abusive relationship. His boss, however, read the papers with a growing smile on his face.
"This is.. amazing," he said, excitement in his tone. "I've been looking for someone to get a new prospective on these. I'm glad you've decided to join us. You have the job."
Wind beamed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so happy about something as mediocre as getting a job. Alas, he was not complaining. Before leaving, he got th e details on the job including hours, pay, and sick days. It was only for five hours a day, yet paid thirty bits an hour. Much more then his old job.
As he left the building, he took one last deep breath of the relaxing air. Looking outside, he could tell many have gone to their jobs by now. Few still roamed about, but it was tolerable. Smiling, he stepped outside and opened his wings. He'd need to get well acquainted with this town if he was to live here for who knows how long. A gust of wind carried him high into the sky, as he looked down to create a mental map of where everything was.
He sighed, returning to his house. It was late afternoon now, he was finally done. After a day of flying around, his limbs were crying out for rest and replenishment. His tongue prodded the two small, sharp fangs in his mouth. Sure, when he drank love, there was blood, but.. there wasn't that much. Looking down at his hooves, he sighed. A gentle flap and he was in bed. He went to sleep after she setting an alarm for 11 pm. The time seemed to come much too soon.