Equestria is no stranger to all manner of odd and curious beasts, but this one might just take the cake.
This is a sort of mini-anthology about the idea of a Huragok (from Halo) being dropped into Equestria to interact with ponies (in particular, the Mane 6).
I'm generally going for a sort of light, unimposing tone, leaning more on the cute and silly side. If you're expecting a grandiose piece of crossover work with its own lore and whatnot, you're in the wrong place.
Content Warnings: None that I can think of, at least right now. This story's about as light as I've gotten.
Though the edges of Sweet Apple Acres did not play host to the cryptic mire that was the Everfree Forest, Applejack still prepared herself for the occasional eventuality that something might come creeping out of the forests just beyond the farm’s edge. After all, a prepared mind was a level one, and some days Applejack felt as though she was the only level-headed one amongst her friends. Not that that made her love them any less, of course; it was just another component of their group’s dynamic.
It was a quiet autumn afternoon. The farm pony was working on some late harvesting towards the edge of the farm, putting in a bit of extra work. Not for any particular reason; she just had a bit of extra pep in her step today, and wanted to put that energy into something productive. However, Applejack thought she saw something as she trotted to her next tree, sitting just beyond the fence. On further inspection, it seemed to be looking at her, though she didn’t see any particularly noticeable eyes at a distance. “What in the hay…?” Applejack murmured, starting to approach; slowly, of course. Applejack knew better than to charge at a wild animal without permission.
Surprisingly, however, the creature slowly floated towards her. The closing distance allowed Applejack to get a better look at the creature, and was surprised at just how alien it was. It appeared to be a sort of soft blue worm thing, with three pairs of small eyes that ran along its head and neck. Its body was partially enclosed in what looked dark black metal shell inside a bundle of navy blue bloons, with small stray patterns of electricity occasionally flickering just beneath the surface. In addition to its head and tail, the creature had four small, tendril-y limbs, capped off with a pink feathery appendage.
Applejack had never seen such a creature in her life, and halted her approach as she stared at it, taking it all in. It appeared honestly and truly alien to her, and truthfully, it rattled her a bit. Usually, alien-looking creatures tended to be dangerous. However, the strange alien floated just a bit closer, and its shell deflated just a bit, allowing it to sink closer to the ground. It was quite a sizeable creature, too; it would’ve surpassed Big McIntosh in height by two heads or so, even without floating some foot or so off the ground. Her ear twitched as the alien… Whistled? Trilled? At her. An odd sort of song; the pitch of a bird, the length and stability of a whale.
“Ah’m sorry, I didn’t get a lick o’ that,” She admitted, as if expecting the creature to understand her. Perhaps even more surprisingly, it actually seemed to, letting out a small, sorrowful whistle as it shrank and sank more, its tail nearly dragging on the ground now. Applejack bit her lip and stepped forward. “Hey now, y’all don’t need to be sad,” She said gently, “I ain’t too good at interpreting.” She gently brushed the creature’s head with a hoof, avoiding the spots that seemed to be eyes. The creature looked at her, its eyes lidded in an unfamiliar, but somehow still recognizable pattern. Sorrow, with a hint of fear and confusion. It now held up one of its pink feelers, which split in two and quickly began twisting and folding to sign something.
Again, Applejack lacked the necessary knowledge to interpret this. It did, however, make the creature a bit easier to handle. Applejack could see it was at least trying to communicate, and it seemed to understand her. She only wished she could understand it in return. Then, an idea crossed her mind. More specifically, a certain pony. “Ah know!” She chirped, surprising the alien from the sudden noise. It clicked distressedly, lurching away from her. “Ah, sorry. Ah jus' think Ah know somepony who can help,” Applejack explained, “Ah got a friend named Fluttershy who’s mighty good at talkin’ t’ critters like you; I’ll take ya to her.” The alien tilted its head and whistled softly, but drifted a bit closer to Applejack.
Applejack smiled reassuringly at the alien. “She’ll sort it out,” She promised, “C’mon, follow me.” She turned and trotted with some haste towards Ponyville; Fluttershy’s cottage was on the other side of town, and Applejack didn’t feel like spending her whole day walking. The alien followed her, swelling as it returned to its floating height. It did not, however, float with much urgency, more drifting after her than anything. Applejack sighed impatiently. “Alright, this’ gonna take forever with you mopin’ along like that,” She said gently. The alien shrank a little, sinking towards the ground again. Applejack couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty. “Tell ya what: You grab on, and I’ll run us both over, alright?” Applejack invited.
The creature looked at her curiously, slowly flitting forth. Applejack turned to the side to give the creature a shot at her torso. The alien looked at her curiously for a moment, but eventually perched on her back, two of its tendrils dexterously wrapping around her torso. It was an odd, and slightly unpleasant feeling, but Applejack ignored it. “Alright, you hold on tight now,” She said, beginning to pick up to a sprint. The creature clung to her back tightly as she ran towards Ponyville. Applejack was surprised at how light it was; were it any lighter, it felt like it would be lifting her off the ground. Naturally, Applejack caught a few looks, but she ignored them. Her priority was figuring out just what the heck this thing was.
Fluttershy squeaked as she heard a knock on her cottage’s door. She wasn’t expecting company today, so such a disturbance shook her some. Despite this, she took a breath and walked to the door; it would be rude not to answer, after all. She blinked as she opened the door to see Applejack, with some sort of creature she didn’t recognize tied around her back. Fluttershy tilted her head a bit. “Hi Applejack,” Fluttershy greeted quietly. “You got a minute, Fluttershy?” Applejack asked, “My, err… Friend, and I, could use your help.” The odd creature poked its wormy little head over Applejack’s hat and whistled softly. It sounded a bit like bird song to Fluttershy, but she didn’t recognize it as any bird she’d ever been serenaded by. Despite this, she found the way it peeked over at her endearing, and caught a small smile on her face.
“Come in; I’ve never seen an animal like that before, but I’ll do my best,” Fluttershy offered gently. Applejack walked in, looking up at the creature. “You can let go now,” She said. The creature unwrapped its limbs and kicked the door closed with its tail, but didn’t actually leave its perch on Applejack’s back. Fluttershy giggled a bit. “I think they like you,” She said gently. Applejack smiled awkwardly. “I hope it’s not like that thing ducks do. Wouldn’t want it stalkin’ me all over the place,” She remarked. “Imprinting?” Fluttershy asked, “I don’t think this is imprinting. They don’t look very young, you can see it in the scars on their cheeks.”
Applejack attempted to crane her neck to get a good look. Sure enough, there were some small scars riddling its neck and tail; it looked like a mixture of burns and holes. The creature did eventually float from Applejack’s back, sitting very lightly on its tail tip; like a ballerina standing on the very tip of their hoof. Fluttershy approached the alien slowly. “Now… If I ask you a question, can you answer it slowly for me?” She asked gently. The creature nodded a bit, and gave a small whistle. Fluttershy thought hard. It was an affirmative answer, for sure, but it still lacked any sort of familiarity. “Okay… Let’s start simple: What are you?” Fluttershy asked.
The creature whistled a bit and wiggled its four feelers. Fluttershy still failed to glean any meaningful information from the noise. “You’re… A worker?” Fluttershy asked. One of the creature’s feelers briefly wobbled to indicate so-so, and its others mimicked the act of using a wrench to tighten something. “You’re a plumber,” Applejack supposed. The creature, again, wobbled a feeler, imitating working with a hammer, then a drill, then went back to the unusual waggling motion. “I think we’re close… What sort of pony does all those things?” Fluttershy asked. “A handystallion?” Applejack asked.
The creature shook its head and briefly looked around, eyes settling on the coasters and teacups on the table. It very particularly stacked them, teacup-then-coaster, to form a tower. “That’s some fine engineerin’ skill you got there,” Applejack remarked. The alien’s eyes went as wide as they could go, and it nodded fervently. “Oh! You’re an engineer,” Fluttershy reasoned. The creature, again, nodded fervently, its eyes happily turned up as it trilled in joy. It carefully unstacked its tower, and floated back over to the two mares, now sitting attentively before Fluttershy.
“Okay, so you’re an engineer,” Fluttershy said softly, “Are you hurt?” She asked, opting for questions that could be answered more simply. The creature shook its head, and Fluttershy sighed softly in relief. “Okay,” She replied gently, “Are you lost?” The creature’s eyes turned a bit sorrowful again, and it let out a small whine as it nodded. Fluttershy gently stroked its head. “I’m sorry…” She said gently, before turning to Applejack, “Do you remember where you found them?” Applejack nodded. “O’ course, I came right over. Found it sittin’ on the edge of the farm,” She replied. Fluttershy turned back to the alien as she nodded.
“Do you remember where you came from?” Fluttershy asked gently. The creature trembled a bit, its head retreating into its balloonlike shell some as said shell deflated some, causing the alien to sink slightly. “It’s okay… You don’t have to talk about it,” Fluttershy promised, giving the alien the gentlest smile she could. The creature nodded a bit and relaxed itself, looking at her with an apologetic expression and trilling softly. “A nicer question, then,” Fluttershy thought aloud, “Are you hungry?” She asked. The alien nodded, perking up a bit. Fluttershy smiled. “You come show me what you want to eat, okay?” She said gently.
The alien followed Fluttershy to the kitchen, and she opened some of the pantry for the alien to look through. It rummaged around some, it shook its head and, again, trilled apologetically. “You don’t want anything?” Fluttershy asked, frowning a bit, “I’m sorry… You must eat differently than the animals around here.” The alien nodded a little, and whistled again. Applejack thought for a moment. “Maybe Pinkie’d have an idea. She has hunches ‘bout things like this; hunches that ain’t disoften right,” She reasoned. Fluttershy nodded a bit. “That sounds like a good idea,” She replied softly, “Come with us, okay?”
The alien nodded and followed the two mares out the door, perching on Applejack’s back as they got outside. Applejack chuckled. “What am I, your personal rickshaw?” She asked. The alien trilled a little and used its feelers to motion one object moving away from the other. “It might be tired,” Fluttershy reasoned, “It’s lost and you only just found it, so who knows how long it’s been out there, hungry and alone?” Fluttershy shivered a little at the thought. Applejack just nodded a bit. “Spare me the guilt trip,” She huffed gently, “You just hold on, now.” The alien again gripped her center, and the three headed off towards Sugar Cube Corner.
Given that they were going to a place in town, now, looks were unavoidable. Many sets of eyes fell upon the creature, though it didn’t seem to mind. It was getting late, and Sugar Cube Corner was just past its main rush of the evening, so when the three walked in, it was fairly quiet. Pinkie grinned excitedly as she saw her two friends, and her grin only seemed to widen further as she saw the alien creature poking over Applejack’s hat. She zipped over to greet them, but squeaked as a thin pane of scintillating blue light appeared between them, the pink pony skidding to a stop just in time to avoid colliding with it.
The alien had a scared look on its face, and one of its feelers had curled into a blue orb, which was projecting the pane via a thin arc of electricity. “Hey now,” Applejack said, “Pinkie’s not a problem. You just relax a bit.” “I’m sorry!” Pinkie yipped, “I didn’t mean to scare you, big guy!” The alien maintained the pane for a bit longer, until Fluttershy gazed gently at it and cooed softly: “It’s okay, we’re not in danger.” The alien hesitated, but eventually, its feeler uncurled, dispersing the wall of light. Pinkie Pie attempted to ease herself back a bit, seeing that the alien seemed skittish. “So who’s your new friend?” She asked.
“Well, we don’t know much yet,” Fluttershy admitted, “But they’re an engineer, and they’re very lost… We’re trying to find them something to eat.” Pinkie’s smile returned. “Something to eat? Well heck, we’ve got too much to eat around here!” She giggled, turning and bouncing toward the counter. Applejack and Fluttershy followed her in, walking towards the counter as Pinkie hopped behind the back. The alien looked around, whistling softly in thought. All six of its eyes darted around, scanning the room’s interior with intrigue. Fluttershy smiled a little. “Look at now curious they are…” She said quietly.
Applejack smiled. “Come look at some food, you,” She remarked, lightly gesturing towards the glass case containing all manner of confectioneries that Pinkie was now standing behind. The alien slid off of Applejack’s back and dipped down to the floor, moving to the case. It eyed over all the assorted treats with intrigue, before one of its feelers lightly poked the glass in front of a colourfully decorated cake. Pinkie smiled. “Cake?” She asked with a small giggle, “Applejack, are you sure you didn’t just find a foal with a sweet tooth at the edge of the farm?” Applejack shrugged. “Doesn’t look like any foal I’ve ever seen b’fore,” She remarked. Pinkie just shrugged a little and took the cake out of the stand, cutting a large slice and setting it on a plate.
The alien eyed the cake slice and wobbled one of its tendrils as if it were a wavy ocean. Pinkie tilted. “Huh?” She asked. Fluttershy thought for a moment. “Maybe they want something to drink?” She asked, “I know some ponies who can’t eat a whole slice of cake without some milk or something.” Pinkie nodded. “Oh, duh! Of course!” She remarked, walking to the fridge, grabbing out a jug of milk, and pouring the alien a glass. The alien looked ponderously on the small spread for a moment, then deeper into the kitchen. “Whatcha looking for, big guy?” Pinkie asked. The alien scanned the room for a minute, until it perked up. It pointed to the cake and milk with one feeler split into two digits, and pointed at the blender with another.
“You want the cake blended?” Pinkie asked, tilting her head. The alien nodded and whistled softly. It didn’t exactly sit right with Pinkie Pie as a baker to sog down a piece of cake with milk and then blend it, but Pinkie wanted to make up for the rough introduction she’d had with the alien. She brought the cake over, dumped the milk in, and blended the cake until it was pureed, quietly whispering, “Oh, cake forgive me…” She then brought back the glass of pureed cake and set it before the alien. The alien floated up and leaned down, the tip of its face dipping into the pasty puree and beginning to… Eat? Drink? Consume it, at any rate; the sugary fluid slowly drained as the alien dipped its face further into the bowl to follow after it.
Fluttershy blinked. “I wonder if it’s the sugar,” She supposed, “Some creatures need a lot of energy to live.” “Ah reckon Ah’d get tired too if I had to float around all the time,” Applejack supposed. Pinkie smiled at the alien as it finished its meal, lightly scraping the glass clean with its snout. “Was that good?” She asked softly. The alien nodded and trilled happily. “Well, at least we found something it can eat,” Fluttershy supposed, “Maybe it should stay with you for the evening, Pinkie, just in case it gets hungry again.” Applejack smiled. “Here’d be a better place for it than the farm, at least,” She remarked, “Wouldn’t want it gettin’ knocked around when I’m buckin’ trees.”
Fluttershy stepped forward and gently patted one of the alien’s balloonish parts. “Are you okay with staying here with Pinkie?” She asked softly. The alien briefly looked between the two mares. Pinkie offered an awkward smile. Then, the alien nodded, floating gracefully over the counter and sitting next to Pinkie. Fluttershy smiled happily. “I’ll come back to check on you in the morning, okay?” She promised, “Then maybe we can take you to Twilight; she might have some ideas to help us communicate better.” The alien trilled contently at this plan of action, and Pinkie lightly patted its side. “I’ll take good care of them, don’t worry,” Pinkie insisted, “Maybe I’ll mix up some more cake soup for them before bed.”
Fluttershy nodded. “Okay,” She replied gently, “Good night, the three of you,” She bade softly as she prepared to leave. Applejack smiled. “Night y’all,” She replied, following Fluttershy out the door. Pinkie looked at the alien as the two mares left. “Alright… Well, first things first: Are you still hungry?” Pinkie asked. The alien shook its head and trilled softly. “Okay, that’s good…” Pinkie trailed off in thought, “I’ve still got some baking to do, so you find yourself somewhere comfy, okay?” She suggested. The alien nodded silently, and carefully floated over the kitchen, having a look around.
Pinkie got to work mixing together some batters she wanted to sit overnight; sourdough starter in particular. She hummed softly as she worked, but frowned a bit as she got to the proofer. The machine hadn’t been working correctly; it always seemed to be over- or under-proofing things. The alien seemed to notice her frustration and lightly levitated over, whistling. “Huh?” Pinkie asked, “Oh, it’s okay. I’m just trying to figure out how to set the proofer… Darn thing’s being messing with me and the Cakes for a while now.” The alien lightly nudged her aside and sank to the floor before the machine, its feelers reaching out and branching into dozens of fine little fibers, sneaking into the machine to fix it.
Pinkie watched with wide eyed intrigue, trying to play along with the creature’s thoughtful whistling. “...Uh-huh… Okay… I see…” Pinkie said softly, “Can you fix it?” The alien trilled contently and nodded, scooching a bit closer to the machine. After a few minutes, the alien’s tendrils receded from the machine, neatly coming bath together in their feathery shapes as it turned the dial of the proofer to on. “Well… Nopony else’s fixed it yet, so let’s see if your try works,” Pinkie supposed, setting her starters in the proofer and closing the door.
The alien whistled softly, one of its feelers sparking. Pinkie squeaked a bit from the small, sudden crackle of electricity, jumping back. The alien began to make a motion that mimicked giggling, a soft whistle accompanying every small bob of its head. Pinky huffed and placed her hooves on her hips. “Hey! I said sorry,” She reasoned, before starting to giggle along, “...Okay, it was kind of funny.” The alien lightly pointed to the machine and made another small spark of electricity with its feeler. “Oh… That’s what was wrong with the proofer,” Pinkie thought aloud, “We really need to teach you how to speak so you can say that without scaring the fluff out of my tail.”
The alien whistled and nodded in agreement. Pinkie smiled a bit. “I think Rainbow would like you if you’re a prankster like that,” She remarked softly. The alien nudged a bit closer to Pinkie Pie, head tilted curiously. “Rainbow? Oh, she’s one of our other friends. I can introduce you tomorrow after you go see Twilight,” Pinkie explained with a small smile. The alien whistled contently at this answer, its little eyes all happily turned up. Pinkie giggled and lightly patted the creature’s head. “D’aww, you’re not so bad,” Pinkie said, “You’re just as bubbly as a bundle of balloons, aren’t you?” The alien trilled happily and shuffled a bit closer.
After a few moments of gently rubbing the alien’s head, Pinkie stood up. “Alright, I’ve still got until moon-up to watch the counter,” She said gently. The alien nodded and trilled softly, following Pinkie over to the register. A few late customers came in, gawking at the alien that was now lazily floating just behind the counter. “Uh… New help from far away, Pinkie?” Asked a unicorn mare. “I’m just taking care of them for my friend!” Pinkie excused, “They like the sugary stuff here.” The unicorn chuckled a bit. “Well, now, who wouldn’t?” They asked with a jovial laugh. Pinkie giggled along with them. The alien quietly looked at the unicorn with its six curious eyes, tilting its head, intrigued. The unicorn smiled gently at the creature, setting down an extra bit on the counter. “Oh, alright, fine. Those eyes are worth a spare bit,” They chuckled.
Pinkie smiled at the alien once the unicorn had left. “Look at you! First you fix the proofer, now you’re good for business,” Pinkie said contently, “I think someone’s earned another bowl of cake soup before bed.” The alien trilled contently and lightly bounced in the air. Pinkie giggled at the endearing display, getting another slice of cake and some more milk and blending it all together for her new friend, bringing it over, this time in a bowl. The alien contently leaned down and slurped up the pureed cake, whistling softly in appreciation. Pinkie gently rubbed the alien’s head as it drank. “There you go… Fill up before we go to bed, okay?” She said gently. The alien quickly finished their bowl of ‘cake soup’ and trilled contently, watching as Pinkie locked up for the night.
Pinkie then led the alien up the stairs to her room, helping them inside. The alien looked around the warm room and whistled softly. Pinkie giggled. “I haven’t had a friend over for a sleepover in ages,” She said, “Make yourself comfy, okay?” She invited. The alien floated to the middle of the room, sank slightly, and closed their eyes, very quickly entering what at least seemed to be a resting state. Pinkie blinked a little. “...Or just fall asleep in the middle of the room,” She supposed softly. She carefully walked to her bed, taking an extra blanket from it and lightly tossing it over the alien. The alien whistled softly, but didn’t move or open their eyes, sinking just a bit from the weight of the blanket settling on them. “Good night, new friend,” Pinkie hummed contently, sliding into her bed and closing her eyes.
As I awake and blink my eyes open, I realize I’m still in the odd place I fell asleep in. I wish it was a dream; not that I dream often, but I wish this was one of the few times I had. There’s an unusual weight over me… Oh, it’s a blanket. I carefully remove the blanket and fold it before opening the door and leaving the room. I’d like to find the pink one again; she is very nice.
As I float down the stairs, I see the pink one and two other frantic equines running around the door, dealing with… Wow. A lot of customers. I shrink a bit and sink to the floor slightly. I’m not scared of passerby, nor getting looks, but I do not want to interrupt something.
As I silently watch through the crack in the door, I’m struck by how alike these ponies are to humans and the Covenant. That is to say: Dumb, but in varied and often practical ways. For example, the pink one is dumb and loud and a bit scary, but she is very nice and forgiving. The cream one was dumbly quiet and underconfident, but did her best to understand me even when she couldn’t. The orange one was very, very dumb, but her assertiveness and self-confidence put me at ease.
When combined, they compliment each other, and their dumbness brings them together. I don’t understand why intelligent beings see dumb as an insult; if there were no dumbness in the world, things would never break, and my kind would never need to exist. Thus, I am grateful that dumbness exists, and hope it continues to exist. However, I do hope this “Twilight” they want to show me to is a bit smarter than the others. I would like to not have to point to or charade everything like a stupid creature. Brrr… That is an insult.
As the rush died down, Pinkie finally noticed the alien sitting contemplatively in the doorframe and walked over. “You can come out now, big guy,” Pinkie said with a small giggle. The creature slipped out of the door, coming into view of the Cakes. Mrs. Cake gawked slightly. “Err… Who’s your friend, Pinkie?” She asked. “Just visitor from far away!” Pinkie excused, “They fixed the proofer last night!” The creature trilled affirmatively, seeming content with the acknowledgment. “Well, your sourdough looked on-point this morning,” Mrs. Cake supposed, “Your friend’s welcome around here any time; can’t argue with results.” Pinkie giggled. “Hear that? You’re welcome to stay here any time,” Pinkie insisted. The creature trilled gratefully.
Pinkie looked at the alien and smiled gently. “You want some food before Fluttershy gets here?” Pinkie asked. The creature whistled and nodded. “Well now, what does a creature like you eat?” Mrs. Cake asked, cocking a brow. “Cake soup,” Pinkie explained, walking to the counter to grab a slice of cake. “Cake… Soup?” Mrs. Cake asked hesitantly. “It’s cake soaked in milk and then put in a blender so it’s all liquidy,” Pinkie explained, taking a slice of cake over to said blender. Mrs. Cake’s eyes widened slightly. “I… I see,” She replied hesitantly. Truthfully, soggy cake did not sound particularly appetizing; especially not run through a blender. She didn’t say anything, however; she didn’t even know the kind of creature she was judging.
Pinkie eventually brought over the bowl of milky cake to the creature, and it contently slurped it down, trilling in thanks. Pinkie giggled. “Aww, you’re welcome!” She replied happily, “They’re such a sweetheart,” She added as she turned back to the Cakes, who were both just sort of staring dumbfounded at the alien slurping up the soggy cake with wild abandon. Was it a crime against baking itself? Absolutely, but they weren’t just going to tell the new arrival to stop eating.
Eventually, Fluttershy walked in the door. The alien trilled excitedly as it saw her, floating over to her fast-ishly. Fast for an alien made of a worm, noodle arms, and balloons. Fluttershy smiled a little. “You look happy this morning,” Fluttershy greeted, gently rubbing the alien’s head, “Did you get lots of good food and rest?” The alien nodded, trilling contently. Pinkie giggled. “They were a super help last night; they fixed our proofer!” She explained. Fluttershy smiled. “That’s lovely,” She replied, petting the alien more, “Are you ready to go see Twilight?” “I think we are!” Pinkie said. “We?” Fluttershy asked.
“We! I wanna be there when Twilight does magic stuff and figures out how to get the big guy to talk!” Pinkie expressed excitedly. Fluttershy hesitated. “Well, I’m not sure if we’ll figure out talking, but hopefully we at least find a better way of communicating,” She expressed. The alien whistled softly in agreement, nodding. “Well, there’s only one way to find out! Let’s go!” Pinkie declared, bouncing out of the bakery. Fluttershy giggled. “She’s always so full of energy; let’s go catch up,” She expressed, trotting out after Pinkie. The alien followed after, quietly floating alongside the pegasus. It seemed to be in much better shape than yesterday, keeping a fair pace.
They eventually came to Twilight’s castle, and Pinkie knocked on the door. After a few moments, Spike came to the door. “Uh… Morning, Pinkie,” He greeted, a bit surprised, “And Fluttershy. What brings you here?” He asked. “Applejack found an alien in the woods yesterday and we wanna figure out how to talk to it!” Pinkie explained. Fluttershy simply gave an affirmative nod, blinking as she felt the alien’s head settle on top of hers, peeking over. Spike cocked a brow at the alien and shivered a little. “Don’t tell me…” He trailed off. “That’s them!” Pinkie giggled, “Aren’t they are cutie pie?” Spike hesitated. “Sure, Pinkie,” He replied, stepping aside and pulling the door open.
Pinkie bounced in, and Fluttershy followed, finding it a bit cumbersome to move with the alien perched on her back, but not painfully so. The two ponies followed Spike into the castle. “So you said it’s an alien…?” Spike asked, staring peculiarly at the creature perched atop Fluttershy. “Or some kind of animal,” Fluttershy replied, “I’ve never seen one before. I hope Twilight might know something.” The alien let out a small whistle, and Fluttershy sighed gently. “I want to understand you; I’m sure it’s hard to say things when you know nopony can listen,” Fluttershy expressed. The alien’s eyes turned sad once again, and it uttered a softer whistle. “Cheer up!” Pinkie interjected, “Twilight’s super smart! She’ll figure something out.”
The three were led to a library with a large desk, where Twilight was sitting and doing the most important thing a princess could do: Reforming tax laws. It was just as riveting as it sounded. She almost wasn’t falling asleep. She perked up at the sound of hoofsteps, staring at the creature sitting oh so delicately on Fluttershy’s back. “Uhh… Hi girls and company,” Twilight greeted, standing up from her desk and walking around it to get a closer look. “Hi Twilight,” Fluttershy returned, “We were hoping you might be able to help us with something.” “Does it have to do with whatever’s on your back?” Twilight asked, leaning in a bit.
Fluttershy nodded. “It does, but please be gentle with them. They can be skittish,” Fluttershy admitted. “I… Might’ve spooked them,” Pinkie admitted, ears drooping a bit. The alien gracefully floated off of Pinkie’s back and lightly patted her head with a feeler. Pinkie giggled. “I’ve been forgiven, though!” She explained happily. Twilight smiled. “Well, let’s see… I take it the problem is we can’t understand them?” Twilight asked. The alien nodded and whistled in affirmation. “Alright, we can’t understand them, but they can understand us, so…” Twilight hummed for a moment, and walked to her desk, grabbing a piece of paper and a quill, “Can you come here?”
The alien nodded and floated over, gazing at Twilight intently. “Alright. So, basically, when words fail, we need to use things that both parties can understand,” Twilight reasoned, “So, we use pictures. For example, I am…” Her horn illuminated as she trailed off, and with the quill she drew out a sunset and a large array of sparkles, “Twilight… Sparkle.” The alien’s eyes widened and it reached for the quill; Twilight willingly hoofed it over. The alien began intently drawing out two ponies embracing, backing away for the moment once the scrawl was completed.
“...Love?” Twilight guessed. The alien shook its head. “Embrace?” Fluttershy asked. The alien wiggled its feeler “so-so”. “Snuggles!” Pinkie cheered. Another so-so. “Alright, embrace and snuggles must both be close…” Twilight figured. The alien nodded. “Hugs!” Pinkie guessed again. The alien nodded fervently. “Okay, hugs…” Twilight began, watching as the alien now drew out a cube, with arrows pointing up the the top face. “Hugs Top?” Twilight asked. Another shake of the alien’s head. “Hugs Above?” Fluttershy asked. The alien again shook their head, pointing up at the ceiling. “Hugs Up?” Pinkie asked. The alien shook its head and floated up, tapping its feeler on the ceiling.
“Hugs Ceiling?” Twilight asked. The alien floated down, nodding, but then circled the area between the hugging ponies and the cube. “Alright, we missed something in the middle,” Twilight said. The alien again nodded, pointing at the pictogram of the ceiling. “Yes, the ceiling, we got that,” Twilight replied. The alien nodded fervently. “What about the ceiling?” Fluttershy asked. The alien just pointed at the ceiling and nodded. “Oh! The middle word is ‘the’, right?” Pinkie asked. The alien turned to her with joyous eyes and nodded. “So your name is…” Twilight didn’t even have a chance to finish the sentence herself. “Hugs the Ceiling!” Pinkie exclaimed with a giggle, “That’s adorable!” “What an odd name…” Twilight murmured to herself. “Maybe it’s because they float,” Fluttershy reasoned.
Twilight nodded a bit and looked at Hugs the Ceiling. “Is that right? You’re called Hugs the Ceiling because you float?” She asked. Hugs the Ceiling floated towards the ceiling, lightly bouncing up against it a few times and trilling. “Oh… You floated too much,” Fluttershy supposed, “So you were hugging the ceiling.” Hugs the Ceiling nodded, floating back down. “Well, it’s nice to finally meet you by name, Hugs the Ceiling,” Pinkie expressed, smiling up at the alien. The alien returned the smile with three pairs of gleeful eyes. It seemed even the alien was happy they were getting somewhere.
“Alright, just a minute,” Twilight thought aloud, horn illuminating to bring a book from her shelf: An Extensive Guide to Understanding Creatures you Can’t. “Let’s see… Okay, pictures kind of worked, spoken words are out of the question…” Twilight murmured. She yipped as she felt Hugs the Ceiling lightly settle their head on top of hers, looking at the book. “Oh, do you want to read, too?” Twilight asked. Hugs the Ceiling nodded. Fluttershy smiled a little. “They’re very curious,” She reasoned, “Perhaps Hugs is trying to learn about us just as much as we’re trying to learn about them.” “Well, meeting in the middle is a good negotiation tactic,” Twilight supposed.
Twilight began to read aloud, with Hugs the Ceiling lightly following along with one of their feelers. Twilight could feel a smile creeping across her face; it was quite endearing, really, having a reading partner that followed so closely. With a separate feeler, Hugs the Ceiling began to sign each letter as it was read; it was an intricate, blindingly fast sign language, keeping up with the admittedly fast pace at which Twilight read. Pinkie watched with interest, trying to read the letters as they came. More surprisingly, she seemed to be able to process everything. “To make proper contact, explore multiple senses of communication,” She repeated.
Twilight looked up. “That’s… What I just read,” She remarked, “Pinkie, stop messing around.” “No, I wasn’t listening, I was reading,” Pinkie said, “Tell her, Hugs!” Hugs the Ceiling moved one of their feelers and signed out, “WRITING,” Trilling softly. Twilight’s eyes widened. “You’re already learning Ponish?” She asked, “What else did you pick up?” Hugs the Ceiling’s eyes turned joyful, and the alien started signing very fast. Too fast for any of the mares to keep up with; especially Fluttershy. “Can you slow down a bit?” Fluttershy requested, the other mares nodding in agreement.
Hugs the Ceiling nodded a little, slowing their signing to a more deliberate processable cadence. “U-N-D-E-R-S-T-A-N-D-I-N-G,” They signed. “Yes, now we can understand you,” Twilight replied, “Do you want some more books to read? Maybe a dictionary?” Hugs the Ceiling nodded, whistling affirmatively. Twilight smiled a bit. “There we go; finally, some meaningful progress,” She huffed softly, horn illuminating and grabbing several large books from her shelves.
Hugs the Ceiling seemed ecstatic at the opportunity to soak up some fresh knowledge, beginning to pour over the volumes right away. They started signing assorted words as they read them. Fluttershy smiled. “Just look at them go,” She said softly, “What an interesting creature…” “I’m not sure creature’s the right word if they can read and write,” Twilight remarked, “Alien’s probably a bit more flattering.” “Yeah, Hugs is pretty smart,” Pinkie reasoned, “They fixed the proofer in, like, two minutes.” Twilight nodded slowly. “Mechanical inclination… That’s definitely a ‘person’ trait, not a ‘creature’ trait,” She reasoned. Hugs the Ceiling abruptly signed out, “I can hear you,” Not looking up from the books.
The three mares flinched a bit at the sudden acknowledgement, but then came another set of signs: “Thank you.” “You’re welcome!” Pinkie giggled, “I told you two Hugs was nice.” Twilight didn’t actually remember Pinkie explicitly saying that, but didn’t want to rain on Pinkie’s parade. She just forced a smile and nodded. “Maybe I should keep Hugs the Ceiling here if they want to read a bunch.” Pinkie put a thoughtful hoof under her chin. “Well… The only thing Hugs really likes to eat is cake soup,” She expressed. Twilight’s ears twitched. “Cake… Soup?” She asked. “Soggy cake put in a blender so it’s a liquid,” Fluttershy recalled. Twilight gagged at this description, eyes pained as she hardly gulped down the early signs of a bout of nausea. “I-I see,” She replied, “Well… I could lend them the books so they can read when you head home for the night.”
“Or Pinkie could just bring a bunch of cake soup over,” Fluttershy suggested. The idea of having such a food repulsed Twilight, but Pinkie nodded emphatically. “That’d also work!” She said. “If it’s for the betterment of our understanding of Hugs the Ceiling…” Twilight trailed off, “Spike, can you get some antacid tablets from the pharmacy before nightfall?” She requested. Pinkie smiled. “I’ll go with him!” She said. Spike perked up from the chair he was sitting in, watching as Pinkie bounced toward him. “Well, alright,” He replied, leaving alongside the pink pony.
This left Twilight and Fluttershy alone with Hugs the Ceiling, and the two mares struggled to think of conversation topics with the alien so focused on their work. Fluttershy looked at Twilight for a moment. “Do you think other ponies will accept them like we have?” Fluttershy asked, her ears drooping a bit. “I’m sure it’ll be like any unusual pony: The town will be wary at first, but then they’ll make a good name for themselves and they’ll be welcomed with open legs.” Fluttershy nodded a bit. “I hope that happens sooner rather than later… They got so many looks when Applejack and I first brought them through town.” Twilight nodded. “Just think about the looks that Starlight or Trixie first got when they came to Ponyville after being reformed; I’m sure this’ll go just like-”
“Did the Great and Powerful Trixie just hear her name used in vain!?” A voice echoed through the castle. “...That,” Twilight finished. Through the doors to Twilight’s office came a pair of unicorns: Starlight Glimmer and Trixie. “Trixie should have known you could not resist speaking praises of her, Twilight Sparkle,” Trixie remarked. “...Wouldn’t dream of it, Trixie,” Twilight muttered. Starlight’s attention was not on the conversation; rather, the alien creature scouring numerous books caught her interest. She carefully paced over. “...Twilight, we really need to discuss your choice in pen pals,” She remarked ponderously.
“Oh, that’s Hugs the Ceiling,” Fluttershy introduced, “They’re very busy learning Ponish right now.” Trixie glanced at the floating blue alien and squinted. “That does not look like any ceiling Trixie has ever seen, and the Great and Powerful Trixie is renowned for her ceiling observation skills,” She remarked. Twilight shook her head. “No, their name is ‘Hugs the Ceiling’,” She clarified. Trixie scoffed slightly at the correction. Starlight nodded ponderously, leaning in a bit. “I see…” She trailed off, “What are they, exactly?” “We’re not sure about that,” Twilight admitted, “They can’t speak Ponish, so we’re hoping that once they learn how to read we might get some more answers.”
Trixie huffed a bit. “As usual, you bare your shortcomings on your sleeve, relying on common Ponish to communicate,” Trixie huffed, “Trixie will have to show you proper communication skills.” Trixie walked over to the desk where Hugs the Ceiling was reading, carefully eyeing the alien for a moment. “Trixie, I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Twilight reasoned. Fluttershy tried to say something, but was cut off by Trixie stamping her hoof. “Trixie does not care what you think, Twilight Sparkle,” Trixie snorted, climbing up on the desk and sitting over several books. To Trixie’s credit, this did actually get Hugs the Ceiling’s attention. Hugs the Ceiling stared at her with all six of their tiny little eyes, letting out a small, irritated whistle.
“Trixie, Hugs the Ceiling can-” Fluttershy attempted, cut off by Trixie leering at the alien and speaking. “Good, Trixie sees she has your attention,” Trixie huffed, “Now, you will tell Trixie something the others do not know.” Hugs the Ceiling trilled annoyedly, and waved Trixie away with a feeler. “They’re easy to-” Again, Fluttershy was cut off. Trixie scoffed. “No! The Great and Powerful Trixie demands the attention of anypony whom she approaches,” Trixie huffed. Hugs the Ceiling mimicked the motion of a sigh, moving back from the desk slightly. “Impatience,” They signed. Trixie watched as the letters were flashed before her face, and stepped closer to the alien, rustling the very neatly laid out books as she crawled across the desk. “The Great and Powerful Trixie has plenty of patience! You are just being uncooperative,” She declared.
Hugs the Ceiling trilled at her one final time; it was a much louder noise, almost like a plea. Fluttershy couldn’t bite her tongue any longer. “You’re scaring them, Trixie!” She shouted. All four of the other beings in the room stared at Fluttershy in shock, however Hugs the Ceiling followed shortly with an affirmative trill. “You need to be gentle,” Fluttershy huffed, gently approaching Hugs the Ceiling’s side, “They’re lost, and confused… They want to help us understand them, but they need time.” Trixie leered at the pegasus. “Trixie does not recall asking for your input,” She sneered. Hugs the Ceiling’s face turned from one of fear to one of anger as Fluttershy cowered in the intense leer of the unicorn on the desk. Hugs the Ceiling whistled loudly, and hovered over to Trixie, picking her up in all four feelers and tossing her off the desk onto the floor.
Trixie grunted as she hit the floor; she landed on her hooves, but it was still quite sudden. Trixie stared at the alien, who was now scowling at her; the best the alien could scowl, at least. “Easy, Trixie…” Starlight said softly, “I’m sure Hugs the Ceiling just doesn’t want you damaging the books.” “Thank Celestia for that,” Twilight murmured, “Trixie, I think it’s best you give Hugs the Ceiling some space.” Trixie seethed in anger, but threw her mane up irately and turned to leave. “Fine! Trixie can see she is not wanted! Good luck without her!” Trixie sneered, leaving the room. Starlight frowned a bit. “Wait, Trixie!” She called after her fellow unicorn, following Trixie out of the room.
Fluttershy gently set a hoof on Hugs the Ceiling’s side. “It’s okay, Hugs,” She said gently, “You were just trying to protect me, right? Like when Pinkie scared you for the first time.” Hugs the Ceiling deflated and sank a little, nodding and letting out a small, apologetic whistle. Twilight walked over, looking at the alien with a soft expression. “Thank you for caring about the care of the books, Hugs the Ceiling,” She said gently. Hugs the Ceiling looked at Twilight, then the door, uttering forth a small whine as they signed: “Friend?” “I wouldn’t necessarily say Trixie’s our friend, but… Well, she’s Starlight’s friend, and Starlight is our friend,” Twilight explained. Hugs the Ceiling let out another small whimper.
Fluttershy thought for a moment. “Do you want to go apologize to Trixie?” She asked gently. Hugs the Ceiling nodded and let out a curt affirmative trill. “Second chance,” They signed. Twilight gave a small smile. “Come on, let’s go give Trixie a second chance,” She agreed, beginning to lead the way out of the room. Hugs the Ceiling trilled happily, following Twilight closely. Fluttershy, too, came along. The sounds of crying echoed from the front room of the castle. It didn’t take them long to find Starlight attempting to comfort her distressed friend. Starlight looked up at the three, watching as Hugs the Ceiling floated over gently. Starlight leered a bit at the alien, but Hugs the Ceiling seemed undisturbed, grabbing a tissue from a nearby box on the table.
“Wh-what do you want!?” Trixie asked, staring wrathfully at Hugs the Ceiling. Hugs the Ceiling trembled a little, but gently hovered over to Trixie and lightly dabbed the corners of her eyes with the tissue paper. Trixie stared in disbelief, her crying entirely interrupted by the suddenly compassionate demeanor the alien was presenting. Hugs the Ceiling let out a small, apologetic trill, continuing to wipe the tears from Trixie’s face. “They’re trying to apolo-” Fluttershy began, before Twilight stopped her. “Let’s let them figure this out,” Twilight suggested softly.
Trixie sniffled a bit. “You called Trixie impatient,” She snorted, shying away from the light touch of the tissue on her face. Hugs the Ceiling nodded, but held up a second feeler contemplatively. “Trixie is, but…?” Trixie interpreted, blinking and now wiping her own eyes. Hugs the Ceiling then signed out a fairly lengthy sentence: “I don’t want you to be angry because we started off on the wrong hoof.” Trixie sat contemplatively for a moment as she took in each word, then looked away a bit. “Trixie is sorry,” She eventually spat, “For scaring you.” Hugs the Ceiling let forth a small whistle, and floated around Trixie, sitting against her back. Hugs the Ceiling’s head now rested on Trixie’s, and their feelers wrapped around her chest.
Trixie froze a bit. “...You are not throwing Trixie again, right?” She asked. Hugs the Ceiling gave the unicorn a light squeeze. Fluttershy couldn’t take it anymore. “They’re hugging you,” She says, fawning slightly, “They only do that to ponies they trust, I think.” Trixie offered a sheepish smile, and sighed gently. “The Great and Powerful Trixie extends her forgiveness to you, too,” She offered softly. Hugs the Ceiling let out a happy whistle, their eyes turned upwards joyously. Twilight couldn’t help but smile at the happy display. “Looks like you two aren’t starting off on the wrong hoof, after all,” She remarked.
Starlight smiled. “I have to admit, I’m impressed. Trixie doesn’t usually forgive easily,” She remarked. Hugs the Ceiling signed to her: “Second chances.” Starlight chuckled. “Second chances indeed,” She commented, offering a small smile back at Twilight. “It seems like you’ve got the basics of Ponish more or less down,” Twilight said, walking over and sitting in front of Hugs the Ceiling and Trixie, “Could you tell us what kind of creature you are?” Hugs the Ceiling sat contemplatively for a moment, before nodding and signing out, “H-U-R-A-G-O-K.”
“Huragok?” Twilight asked, tilting her head a bit. “...That sounds like it fits, actually,” Starlight commented, “An alien name for an alien creature.” Hugs the Ceiling let out a small, affirmative trill. “So you’re a Huragok named Hugs the Ceiling,” Twilight recounted, “Okay… Could you tell us about where you came from?” She asked. The Huragok’s eyes trembled, and they retreated into their shell some, whining. “Oh, goodness, I’m sorry!” Twilight expressed, “It’s really not that important if it upsets you that much.” Fluttershy reached out and gently stroked Hugs the Ceiling’s head. “It’s okay,” Fluttershy promised, “Whatever you’re scared of, it’s not here now.” Hugs the Ceiling slowly relaxed, letting their head drape over Trixie’s as they let out a small, unhappy trill.
The four mares exchanged worried looks. Judging by the Huragok’s expressions, what they once thought of as a wanderer might be more of a refugee. Twilight offered a gentle smile. “You’re safe in Ponyville,” Twilight insisted. Starlight nodded in agreement. “We’ve got plenty of magical muscle here to keep you safe. If whatever you ran from comes looking for you, we’ll send it running.” Hugs the Ceiling shook its head and trilled unhappily, now shaking violently enough that Trixie felt herself moving. “If Trixie may, she believes we should move on from this topic,” Trixie reasoned. Twilight was a bit surprised by Trixie’s observation, given how stubborn the unicorn had been beforehand.
“How are you so sure in your observations?” Twilight asked. Trixie huffed. “Well, a magician does not normally reveal her secrets, but as this is special, the Great and Powerful Trixie will enlighten you: Trixie has done many shows for foals who have some kind of impairment, like being mute or unable to walk,” Trixie explained, “When Trixie cannot read ponies normally, she learns to read them differently.”
Twilight, Starlight, and Fluttershy all shared looks. “As much as you might not want to admit it, there is much love that goes into Trixie’s profession,” Trixie concluded with a small flip of her snout. Starlight nodded. “Well, I knew you put effort into your shows, but I didn’t realize you put time into making things accessible like that.” “Never judge a book by its cover,” Fluttershy supposed softly. Hugs the Ceiling looked down at Trixie and signed out: “Outreach deserves respect.” Starlight smiled. “Well-signed,” She added contently. The group shared a soft giggle.
Their conversation was cut short as Pinkie and Spike returned from their errands, the former with a few large jars of some beige-pink sludge and the latter with a box of antacid tablets. Pinkie hopped over excitedly after setting her saddlebags down. “Oh! Did you make some new friends, Hugs?” She asked. Hugs the Ceiling gave a small nod, trilling happily. “Trixie is not easily charmed,” Trixie huffed, “But Hugs the Ceiling is not an easy charmer,” She admitted with a small smile. The group again shared a soft round of laughter. “We also learned that they’re a Huragok,” Fluttershy expressed with a small smile. “A Huragok?” Spike asked, “That sounds like something out of a science-fiction book.”
Twilight smiled. “Well, whatever the case, Hugs the Ceiling is welcome around Ponyville for as long as they desire,” She expressed. Pinkie’s eyes widened. “Ooh! Since we’re all here, can we have a late dinner party for Hugs’ arrival!?” She asked excitedly. Starlight gave a small smile, murmuring, “You and your parties…” “That sounds nice, actually,” Fluttershy said, “It’s not often something really new comes to Ponyville.” “Great! I brought extra cake soup for everyone!” Pinkie giggled. Twilight nearly threw up at the suggestion of eating it. “Th-that…” She hiccuped, “Won’t be necessary, Pinkie.” The group laughed a bit, if at Twilight’s expense.
The rest of the night went fairly nicely; food (or cake soup as the case may be) was shared amongst the small group of ponies, dragon, and alien, and the mood was jovial. At least for the evening, Twilight and Trixie even seemed to put their differences aside. Before long, however, night fell, and Fluttershy and Pinkie had to leave. “You’re gonna stay at the castle so you can read some more, right?” Pinkie asked. Hugs the Ceiling nodded and trilled affirmatively. “We’ll make sure they get some rest,” Twilight promised. Pinkie nodded. “I made sure there was extra cake soup in Twilight’s fridge if you get hungry,” Pinkie said, “You be good, okay?”
Hugs the Ceiling trilled softly and floated down, feelers wrapping around Pinkie gently. Pinkie giggled and hugged Hugs the Ceiling to the best of her ability. “Aww, I’ll just be down the street if you miss me, Hugs!” Pinkie promised. Fluttershy smiled softly. “I don’t live too far out of town either,” She offered, “I’m sure the animals would love to meet you.” Hugs gave a small nod, floating over and giving Fluttershy a hug as well, trilling gently. Fluttershy nuzzled into the alien. “I’ll miss you too,” She replied. After the hugs were given, the earth pony and pegasus left.
Starlight yawned a bit. “Well, I’m beat from traveling over the past few days,” Starlight remarked, “Night, you four,” She bade as she stood up to leave. Hugs the Ceiling waved a feeler and gave a small whistle as Twilight, Spike, and Trixie said good night. Slowly, the rest of the group dispersed; first Spike, then Twilight. “There’s a spare bedroom behind the second door on the left hall, okay?” Twilight said. Hugs the Ceiling nodded in response. “Good night,” Twilight bade, leaving Hugs the Ceiling and Trixie alone.
Trixie moved to leave, but Hugs the Ceiling looked at her and whistled softly. “Hm? Trixie is going to sleep in her cart outside,” Trixie explained, “You have a warm bed in the castle.” Hugs the Ceiling took a moment to process this, but trilled softly in response, pulling Trixie into a hug. Trixie yipped a bit, but smiled at the Huragok. “Trixie wishes you a good night as well,” Trixie said gently, “Dream of… Whatever nice things Huragoks dream about.” Hugs the Ceiling eventually released her, but only after signing: “Friend.” Trixie smiled. “Friend,” She repeated back to Hugs the Ceiling, before opening the door and stepping outside.
Hugs the Ceiling briefly hung in the air for a moment, before lightly floating down the hall, entering the guest room they’d been given, and picking up one of the blankets, draping it over themselves, sinking as they deflated a bit to rest.
I can’t sleep. I rested for a little while, but sleep refuses to come to me. I feel an incomprehensible pang of illness in my stomach… And a larger such pang in my heart. I remove the fluffy blanket the purple one provided to me, and slip out the door, heading for the front of the castle again. Opening that door, I move outside into the cool night’s air.
Sure enough, there’s a large cart just outside. No doubt the magician’s. I do not wish to disturb her, but it would be a nice spot to set myself, so carefully, I float up and settle myself lightly on the top of the cart, two of my feelers drifting over the edge. I have never had problems with altitude sickness, but sometimes it is nice to settle myself on a solid object. A feeling of sturdiness the air fails to provide.
My parents said it’s because I was born with a very high buoyancy quotient… I used to have issues settling myself like this. Sometimes I would invert myself, and rest my body on the ceiling instead. My parents… The pain in my heart and stomach grows larger, and I fail to stifle a pained whimper. Not a loud noise, by any means, but given my proximity to the magician’s cart…
“Who’s there…?” I hear her voice, shock mixing with grogginess. I try not to make a sound, but I hear hoofsteps. Then, she exits the cart, looking around wearily. Is she used to having to defend her cart from the animals here? Given that she’s already awake, I lean forward, and give a small trill to get her attention. She looks up immediately. “Hugs the Ceiling?” She asks, “What are you doing here?” “I didn’t mean to wake you,” I try to whistle. I’ve given up hope that any of these ponies will understand my verbal ticks, but it’s too dark to sign anything. She just tilts her head a bit. “Is something wrong?” She asks.
What I have most noticed about the magician is how sharply she perceives things, when not bogged down by her own emotional investment. When she was seeking to prove herself to the other ponies, she was borderline stupid. After she took confidence in herself, however, she became very smart. These ponies amaze me with all the ways they can be dumb. Despite her tiredness, she still perceives me very well. She is the closest to understanding my verbal ticks, even if she does not actually understand the words at all. Regardless, I look down and give a small nod, with an affirmative whistle.
She groggily climbs the ladder on the side of the cart, sitting next to me. “You cannot sleep,” She supposes. I nod a bit and sidle closer to her. “Why can you not sleep?” The magician asks. There’s no easy way to pantomime this, so I instead sign out, “Pain.” “You’re in pain…” The magician’s voice turns very concerned very quickly, “Are you hurt?” I shake my head. I know I’m not suffering any injuries; we have a very defined sense of self, and any injury would perturb that. “Where does it hurt?” The magician asks gently. I bob a bit away and lightly point my feelers to my chest and belly.
The magician thinks for a long moment. “And you do not know where the pain is coming from?” She asks. I nod and let out a small trill. The magician visibly bites her lip. “Well… You are lost, you feel pain in your chest, and you know you are not hurt,” She reasons, “Trixie believes you might be homesick.” Homesick? I have never encountered ‘homesick’ before. I scoot closer to her, and tilt my head, trilling curiously. A gentle smile grows across her face. “Homesick is when you miss home so much, that you feel sick,” She explains simply, “You think about seeing your home and family again.”
My eyes widen a bit. It makes sense. I’ve been lost in this odd place for weeks. I fervently nod to her diagnosis, signing out the word to record it for myself properly: “Homesick.” The magician gently pulls me closer, my body lightly bumping against hers. “Tell Trixie about your home. It will hurt at first, but then you will find peace; like making a hard apology.” I fully commit to sitting lightly on her back, resting my head on hers. Her mane is silky, and comfortable; most of these ponies have very comfortable manes. I hope they do not mind me perching on them.
I don’t feel like signing a lot, so I decide to tell my story through pantomiming with my feelers. I gesture vaguely out to the sky. “You lived in the stars above…” The magician begins interpreting. I motion a ring. “...On a ring, among the stars…” Still drawing a ring with one feeler, I motion towards it with my other feelers. “...Something visited those rings…” I grab one of my feelers with another, pulling it away. “...You were taken…” I mimic the motion of a bird flapping its wings. “...By a bird?” The magician asks. I shake my head, signing out, “Ship,” To clarify. The magician nodded. “You lived on a ring, in the stars, when you were taken by a star ship that visited the ring…” She pieces.
I nod and trill sorrowfully. That was the last time I saw my parents, or most of my friends. I don’t like thinking about that ship. “You do not want to share anymore,” The magician says, “That’s okay. Trixie can guess being taken wasn’t good.” I nod a little and whine softly, holding her a bit tighter. Embracing someone is an odd sensation, but a pleasant one. I get many such feelings I do not fully understand, but for once, this is a nice one. It makes the pain shrink. The magician looks up at me. “On the ring, you had a family, yes?” She asks.
I nod, and split one of my feelers into three. “Three family members,” The magician reads. I sign, “Parents.” “You had three parents,” She corrects. I nod a bit, and sign out their names: “Likes to Bounce”, “Carries Too Far”, and “Freely Glides”. The magician smiles a bit at these names; an endeared smile, not a mocking one. “They sound lovely,” She says gently. She has no idea. I just let out a small, wistful whistle.
“Trixie did not know her parents very well,” The magician admits, “But she still misses them, sometimes. It is healthy, even though it hurts.” I listen to her intently. “It reminds us of where we came from, and ensures we don’t forget,” Trixie explains. Gently, I sign: “Wisdom.” The magician gives a small chuckle. “Wisdom is for old ponies. Trixie is not old enough for wisdom yet,” She explains. She is wrong, but I join her in laughing. I do not have the proper organs to laugh, but repeated short whistles seem to carry the point across.
“You are very forgiving,” The magician eventually says, “Trixie thanks you for that.” I hold her a little tighter, nestling my head into her mane proper and whistling contently. The magician snickers. “You are not using Trixie as a bed, are you?” She asks. I let out a small, affirmative whistle, letting my eyes close. The magician is nice; I know I’m safe. The last thing I hear as I drift off is her chuckling at me. The pain is gone, and thus, sleep comes easy. Thank you, magician.
