The Pony In the Snow

by Spazz Kid

First published

I swear, every night, I look outside, and I see a pony in the distance. But every time I look, they get closer.

I swear, every night, I look outside, and I see a pony in the distance.

But every time I look, they get closer.

[Art in cover]

...

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Originally, when my friends said that staying in a cabin, in the middle of a forest, away from civilization, was a good way to spend my winter, I said that they were crazy. But, there's a lot of things in life that seem crazy, but end up rather, well, nice. So I considered it.

And then I went through with it. The day I announced it, everypony had looked at me in such a way that made me feel that they were originally joking. But the moment I had realized it, it was too late, and I was on my way to the Shiver Hoof mountains, the coldest place in Equestria. Nopony tried to stop me, in fact, I don't really think that anypony really cared all that much, they were more so wrapped up in preparations for Hearths Warming Decorations and such. And I had already paid for everything, so I was too far along for them to stop me.

I arrived here on this frozen wasteland by train, of course. A middle aged mare greeted me as I stepped off with my things, the train zooming down the tracks as soon as all four of my hooves touched the ground of the rickety old train station. The mare was heavily bundled up, as was I. She asked my name, and I had answered. She pulled a clipboard out from under one of her many scarves, and looked at it for a few seconds, stored it once more, and asked me to follow her. How she managed to see the board through the billowing snowstorm, still, I have no idea.

That's not important. I followed her, and she showed me a small carriage, which was being pulled by a large stallion. This was the mare's son, at least, that's what she told me, and I had no reason not to believe her. I had nothing to put into the back of the carriage, other than my saddlebags. After a small conversation, mostly about payments and such, I was sat in the seat of the carriage, and the stallion began to walk down the snow covered road.

I had looked at back at the mare as we went, and she was staring at us. I couldn't see her face because of the thick storm.

After about a half hour of travelling in silence, the only sound being the whistling of the wind, I had decided to start a conversation with the stallion pull my carriage. Sadly, this mostly failed, and any response I got back was a simple grunt. After about twelve minutes of this, I had given up, and we sat mostly in silence once more.

After another half hour, we had made it to the cabin, a cozy little thing. I grabbed my saddlebags, hopped off the carriage, and thanked the stallion, which earned me a grunt in return. I quickly trotted over to the door, and opened it. Before going inside, however, I looked back, and the stallion was already many, many yards away. I wondered how he moved so fast, but that wasn't the most concerning thing at that moment, as I most definitely had to get inside before I froze to death.

The moment I closed the door, I looked around. It was just as cozy as it was on the inside as it was on the outside. There was a large rug, puffy couch, various tables and desks, paintings and pictures, a giant bookshelf, and a large stone fireplace, which already had a blazing fire within. I took everything off, and hung my various scarves and coats off the hook rack set next to the door. I began to walk around the cabin, and see if I got my money's worth. Seeing as I was paying for a small, but comfortable wooden shack out in the woods, this would do nicely. Could you believe it? I actually thought that this wouldn't be too bad, a for the first couple of days, it wasn't.

I had used the large stack of wood next to the fireplace to full the fire, sometimes having relight it. I read the large books, getting lost in the stories. I ate the food stored in the cupboards. I was actually enjoying my time here.

One night, the snowstorm subsided, probably heading off to a close by city, and I had looked out the window to gaze upon the beautiful sight that sat before me. The bright moon's light bouncing off the snow. It always seemed to be night here, it was very odd, but I didn't mind. I had always thought the night sky was breathtaking, the million of stars in the sky always seemed to put me in a trance, pulling me away from everyday life. It was starting to happen again, and my mind was beginning to wander.

I imagined myself as one among the stars, like a soldier among the ranks. I imagined myself gliding lazily through the beautiful void of color, and life. I danced alongside ponies with names I did not know, we laughed, we enjoyed each others company.

But then, it all stopped. My dream had finished.
I was still next to the window, and the moon was higher into the sky than it was before. How long had I been asleep? It didn't matter to me, however, as I just went right back to staring out the window, only this time, I was focusing on the treeline. Watching deer in the distance. But something had caught my eye...

It was a dark silhouette. I was just barely able to make it out,which was odd, as it was just a few hundred away.
It was unmoving, as still as the trees around it. What was it? Was it a pony? Another creature? I had stared at it for what seemed like forever, the figure not budging, not even once. I had initially decided that it was nothing more than an oddly shaped tree stump, and had walked over to the couch, where I had been sleeping for the entirety of my stay. I sat on the couch, and took this time to look at the various paintings and photographs. Most of them were nothing but scenery, depicting snowy mountain ranges and grassy, sunbathed flower fields. But there had been one in particular that stuck out to be. A picture of two ponies, both smiling warmly. One looked like a much younger version of the mare I had spoken to earlier, and the other was a tall, unicorn stallion, with pale blue fur, and a deep purple mane. He had shimmering green eyes, comparable to an emerald. I deduced that this must've been the mare's lover, and I wondered what happened to him.

A laid down, and watched the crackling fire as it lulled me to the realm of sleep.

I had a rather odd dream. Various sounds of wood bending and cracking echoed through my mind, along with the sounds of various voices shouting. After a few seconds, everything had gone silent. Shortly after, I woke up.

The fire was close to going out, and I had thrown another log from the pile onto it. I was halfway through it all. I wondered if I was using too much, or if they had given me enough. Not sitting on that subject for too long, I headed over to one of the cabinets to get some food. I grabbed a carrot, and bit down on it. I then carefully walked over to the same window, the one I had looked out of the night before. The figure was still there, but it seemed... closer. It was larger than before. I merely chocked it up to my mind playing tricks on me, and turned around to continue my daily activities. Or, well, I guess you could technically call it my singular activity, which was reading. I'm rather indifferent to reading, but when it was the only thing I could do to keep myself entertained, well, I had read more than I had in the previous few months combined.

This cycle repeated for a few more days: Wake up, look out window, eat, then get to reading. Every night, the more I looked out the window, the more paranoid I became, but then my paranoia was immediately sated the moment I opened another book. Reading seemed to be the best thing. Every single story in there was entertaining and held my attention.

But there was always the feeling, the presence of that dark figure, looming over me, though every time I looked out the window, the figure was always many, many yards away. I forced myself to not worry about, thinking that it was nothing. In fact, after a while, I simply stopped looking out the window all together. I completely ignored it, and I had began to feel the weight of my anxiety lift off of my. It felt wonderful.

Soon though, I had finished reading every single book from that large shelf, and I had took the time to sort them all. I then sat on the couch, wondering what I was going to do for the rest of winter. It had only been a month since I had arrived. My mind then wondered how everyone was doing now that I was staying in this wooden cabin. Personally, I have always felt I had been a burden on others during the holiday season. I had always felt I was in the way of things, head up in the clouds, as my mother would say.

But, as I was thinking of this, I had saw something odd in the corner of my eye...
It had come from the window. Immediately, every single ounce of anxiety had slammed back into me, causing my ears to twitch slightly. I looked over at the window...

And saw a face staring back at me.
I felt my soul leave my body. I yelped in surprise and fear, falling off the couch, and quickly pushed myself as far away as possible from the window. Me and the face stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Even at this distance, I could make put their features. Pale blue fur, and faded purple mane, both speckled with snow. Their dull green eyes stared blankly back at me, but none of that really registered to me. The one thing I noticed was the fact that they had a snapped unicorn horn sticking from their mane, a large streak of dried blood leading down their face.

After a few more seconds, I had begun to recognize the face. It was the unicorn stallion from the photograph! At least, I thought it was. That mixture of colors was fairly unique. The moment I had come to this conclusion, however, the stallion turned around, and began to walk away slowly. I stood up quickly, and ran over to the window, and watched him walked away. He was limping, and it was snowing once more.

I watched him walk away until I couldn't see him anymore.
I then noticed the lack of hoofprints in the snow, but that barely registered as I spun around, and hastily began to look around for the photograph. I found it, but it was different: the stallion was now missing from the picture. I stared at it, wondering how he was gone for a long while.

After all of that, I didn't see him again, and after what felt like another month, full of many sleepless nights, I had thrown the last log into the now dying fire, and was on the couch, laying on my back, and staring at the ceiling, the image of the stallion's face still fresh in my mind. A knock startled me, and I quickly looked over at the door. I rolled off the couch, cautiously walking over, and peaking through the little door window.

It was the stallion that had pulled the carriage. He had a neutral expression on his face.
I quickly gathered my things, putting on my scarves and coats and strapped on my saddlebags, and then opened the door. I apologized for taking a little long, which earned me a grunt in response, his brilliant green eyes not focused on me.

After getting set up in the carriage, he immediately began to the pull us down the road once more. I looked back at the cabin for one last time. The lights in the windows were gone, and I assumed the fire had died when I was getting situated. But I could make out a faint outline of something, and a quick glint of green.

I turned back around, figuring that I shouldn't be dwelling on it.
After a little over an hour of windy silence, we had made it back to the train station, and the mare was waiting. I hopped off the carriage, and she greeted me like before, and asked me how my stay in the cabin was. Thinking that it was probably best I didn't make myself look crazy, I said it was great. She told me that that was wonderful, then smiled at me. It was an odd smile, with her mouth slightly gaped, and her eyes unfocused. She handed me a train ticket, a walked away towards her son's carriage without another word. She hopped onto it, and stared at me with the same smile as her son pulled the carriage. The train arrived shortly after.

Even now, I still wake up some nights, having seen the face of that stallion in my dreams. It's even worse when that same face is outside my window, looking at me with his cold, dead eyes.