> Finding Faith > by CoolBreeze > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > The Orange Mare > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- My Little Pony: Finding Faith Chapter 1 “The Orange Mare”         Gazing up at the clouds above, I let out a contented sigh, picking out vague shapes in the fluffy white objects as they glide over the city, the setting sun casting glorious orange highlights on them. I’m laying down in the grass at the banks of the river that runs past the city center, there’s a footpath for people to walk on that takes you on the scenic route to the city center. I get up with an awkward sigh, brushing the back of my jeans off. With a glance up as the sun hits the horizon between the skyscrapers, I’m hit with a silent flash of blinding white light. I cry out in shock and double over, my hands rubbing at my eyes, trying to clear my vision of the bright splotches. Several passers by stop and some cry out in alarm. My vision is returning but what I see is unbelievable. A bright white light, emitting little particles shaped like stars is travelling up from my feet. As the light reaches my knees, the alarmed voices from behind me escalate into cries of horror. I turn around, the entire effort feels awkward. Looking around at the dozen or so people who have gathered, I notice that several of them have clasped their hands to their mouths. The light has reached my waist and as I look down I realise why they are all in a state of shock. Where, only a minute before I had been wearing a pair of runners and jeans, I can see a white coat of soft fur running down my legs, instead of feet at the ends however, I see large hooves.         Losing my balance as the light passes into my torso, I fall down onto all fours, my fingers curling around blades of grass. The light reaches my armpits and I watch in horror as my arms emerge on the other side, thick with natural muscle, my hands replaced by smaller hooves. The light seems to slip a hood over my vision and I cry out in surprise. But just as suddenly as it happened, with a pop it ended.         I find that I can raise my head despite being on all fours and I turn it, gazing over and back at myself. I'm covered from head to... to hoof in a coat of brilliant white. My gaze drifts further along and I realise that I am looking at... my flank. I can see that I have a black tail, with a grey zigzag stripe through the middle of it.         At this point, I turn back and cry out at the top of my lungs until my voice goes hoarse. Everything just seems so impossible, it can't be real, any of it, the people, the grass, the sky, me... it just has to be some nightmare. That's when I notice two police officers in their hazard vests, hands on their holsters as they slowly creep up to me.         “Keep back!” I croak at them. While I might not trust my own sense of reality right now, I sure as heck don't want to take the risk that it might all be real.         They draw in, the crowd pressing forward on my left, preventing me from even contemplating heading that way, and on the right, the two police officers are getting closer. As they do, I realise that I'm roughly only four feet tall now, barely up to some of their chests.         I wish I was someplace else! I think with such force that I hope some divine entity can hear and whisk me away.         To my own surprise, I feel an immense pressure in my fore-head and I can see a bright red glow just out of my vision. The crowd cries out and the police officers stop short. I feel my arms - no, my fore-legs spread without me even realising it. Now the glow intensifies, red stars sparkle and fade in my vision and there are beams of bright light shooting out from just above my head.         The crowd and the officers seem unsure of what to do now, I can see around the light that people have stopped, on the bridge further down the river, cars emptied of their drivers and passengers to see what the light show is all about, I presume.         I need time to think, to process what is happening and the crowd that's pressed in so close is not helping in the slightest bit, worse still I have a feeling that the light show coming from the top of my head isn't just light, there's something more material about it all.         One of the officers un-holsters his weapon, just as he begins to level it at me, closing my eyes I grunt with an extreme effort and a loud crack fills the air around my ears. * * *         Opening my eyes, I find I'm not standing on the river's edge, and there aren't dozens of people watching me, closing in. Then I realise that there's not much of anything around me at all, just an emptiness, a void of anything in space.         Naturally the moment goes as quickly as it comes and with a start, I find myself hanging upside down in a tree, a branch wedged between my belly and my legs is all that is keeping me from falling down the several feet to the ground below.         I wriggle a little, unsure of how to proceed before I realise it's raining quite heavily. The pitter patter of raindrops on leaves an obvious indicator before the first droplet even passes my head through the foliage and splatting on a lower branch. The leafy green colour that fills my vision feels kind of wrong, like it's a bit too... vibrant perhaps. My gaze travels from the section of the branch wedged under my belly and legs, to where it meets the immense tree trunk. The further away the branch gets, the less detailed the bark seems to become, as in the complexity of its colours starts to fade. It's hard to explain really.         Despite hanging upside down in a tree, and not knowing where I am and the sudden change in weather. I find a kind of peace being there. That's when I notice the orange form sitting several meters away, staring into a pool of water. At first I think it's someone in an orange raincoat, but then I realise they can't possibly be, the orange encompasses most of their form with a long, flaring purple tail and a head of drooping purple hair.         “I just wish there was somebody who understands me.” the orange creature says in perfect English. For some reason I feel like I should be disturbed by that, but I'm not.         “I don't know if I can go on...” it continues to itself. The voice is undeniably female but there's a hint of youth in the almost scratchy voice as well.         I wiggle my legs a little, to no avail, I even try and bend all the way around to dislodge myself with my fore-hooves, when that fails I fling back into my upside down pose.         “Hey, um, excuse me?” I call out to her. Waving my hooves back and forth in front of my head as I dangle.         She jumps a little and I notice a pair of delicate looking wings flare out to her sides, indicating surprise as she turns her head, looking for the source of my voice.         “Up here, in the tree.” I call to her. Watching as she gets up onto her hooves and trots over to the cover of the tree and looks right up at me with a quirky smile.         “How in the hay did you get up there?” She asks me, putting a hoof to her chin and allow her smile to widen.         I try my best to shrug, glad that she's smiling despite her previous comment. Something tells me that however I got here, I was just in time to stop something dreadful from happening.         “Say, you have wings, think you could come up and try to help dislodge me?” I ask her, making a show of pointing at myself.         She seems to take a moment to consider it, she looks a little unsure, of herself or me I can't tell. But then the look vanishes, replaced by one of determination as she wriggles her flanks from side to side before charging at the base of the tree trunk. I almost want to cry out for her to stop, until I see she jumps up, her hooves slamming into the base, shaking the tree to its very core, and forcing her higher up into the air where she beats those delicate looking wings of hers. With just a few wing beats, she draws eye level with me and smirks.         “You look even more ridiculous up close than from below!” she exclaims with a jovial laugh.         I give a modest shrug before answering, “I try my best I guess.” She proceeds to grip me around the middle before lifting me off the branch. At first it seems like she's going to carry me down, but I quickly see my mistake, while her wings can support herself, she's not exactly able to carry the both of us aloft, and in true testament to my realisation, I fall down, breaking a branch on the way. She lands on top of me and I groan out, partially winded by the impact.         “Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.” she says, rolling off me and helping me to my hooves while I try and get my breath, and a little of my composure back.         “Don't worry about it... uh well this is a little embarrassing, we don't know each other's names!” I say before pressing my right fore-hoof to my chest.         “I'm Scootaloo.” she introduces herself, holding out a hoof. I presume she wants me to shake it.         Now I'm stuck, kind of at a loss. My memory feels really hazy, like a smog is concealing it from me and it just won't clear. With an effort I try and recall my own name, and find that there are a lot of things I can't recall, like where I'm from and even what I was. I guess that what I was isn't of concern, seeing as I have hooves and a tail, I assume I'm some sort of equine like the orange mare in front of me, Scootaloo. Still at a loss for my name, I cast my thoughts as deep as I can.         “Is everything okay? You're kinda zoning out there,” Scootaloo asks, waving her hoof in front of me.         “Uh, well it's just that... I can't seem to recall my name.” I answer honestly. I struggle to recall it, I can't even remember what day or month it is.         She gives me a quizzical look but allows me to think. After a time I remember something, that wherever I am from, we called a person who has no name, a John Doe.         “I guess, you can call me John.” I say, extending my own hoof to her with a meek smile. She takes my hoof in her own and I feel an almost magnetic grip between the two appendages, she shakes and we separate. I stare at my hoof for a moment before storing the whole thing away, questions like that can come later.         “So, Scootaloo isn't it? What are you doing out here in this downpour? You'll catch your death out here in this cold.” I say, bending my hind legs so that I'm in a comfortable sitting position.         She, at first, seems to be at a loss for words. I assume I may have rushed things a bit too much for her liking and wonder if perhaps I should instead ask something else before she tentatively responds.         “Well... uh, well I...” She pauses, I can see the insecurity in her eyes, those big purple eyes. “I guess it won't hurt to tell you... See, I'm a blankflank,” she turns and shows me her flank, which looks quite normal to me.         At first I raise an eyebrow but quickly lower it and ask, “What's a blankflank? You look fine to me, nothing outwardly strange at all.”         She giggles for a while before resuming her serious manner, “You're not joking?” she asks me, a tinge of concern in her voice.         “No. Actually, that makes me wonder...” I say before turning my head and looking at my own flank, it's just as bare as Scootaloo's but there's nothing outwardly odd about that in my mind. If you asked me for my opinion I'd say that we looked like a relatively healthy pair of equines.         Scootaloo leans over to see what I'm looking at and lets out a gasp of surprise, a hoof coming up to her own mouth to silence it before it drags on. After a few moments of listening to the sound of my own soft breathing and the rain falling around us, she speaks up again, removing her hoof from her mouth.         “You're a blankflank too!” She raises her eyebrows with an incredulous look. “You really don't know what a blankflank is?” I shake my head in response before she presses on. “Well... as odd as that sounds... a blankflank is a pony who hasn't gotten their cutie mark yet, the mark that shows our special talent. I thought I was the only pony around who had grown up and still not gotten their mark, but you're a fully grown buck without one!”         I'm not at all too sure how to take all of that, cutie marks? Talents? My mind races, trying to process it all. I understand enough of it to see that at our ages, we're supposed to have one of these marks on our flanks, and neither of us do.         “We're getting sidetracked though, I was telling you why I'm out here in this miserable weather? Well... you see, I'm an orphan, I have no family and when my friends got their cutie marks and I didn't... we started to drift apart, they moved on with their lives and I was stuck. Worse... I'm a failure of a pegasus, I can't even fly properly.” she finishes, I can tell she's depressed as she finishes, the feeling very familiar to me.         “Why does that matter?” I begin, “Just because you don't have this cutie mark, doesn't mean you don't have a talent. And your friends, if that's what we should be calling them, should have stuck by your side. If you ask me, they aren't your friends if they define their friendship on something so silly as a mark on your flank.”         She looks up at me, with an expression I can't describe. “You're right...” she trails off, her gaze drifting to the base of the tree.         I let out a sigh as I gaze out from under the tree and into the rain that masks the distance from our view, “You know,” I begin, “Life can be hard, kind of like a game of cards, you can get dealt a bad hand of cards that make it hard to win, but you just gotta press on anyway, who knows you may draw that lucky card and scrape a win in?” I look back over at Scootaloo, peering into her sad, purple eyes. “I guess what I’m saying is that, sure, life isn’t the greatest for you, but you gotta be chipper, don’t let it drag you down.  Be strong, smart and brave, face the challenge and tackle it.”         “I... alright,” she finishes, a little lamely. I feel that there's a driven person behind this depression, just waiting to come out and do good.         “As for your ability to fly, you did pretty good when I was stuck up there-” I pause to and point my hoof up at the branches above, “-even if you couldn’t support my weight, that’s not lack of ability.”         I finish, allowing the orange mare to mull over what I’d said. Her brow furrows in deep thought and I begin to wonder if it was a little too much, too early. We barely know one another and I think if I was in her shoes - err, hooves - I'd be a bit overwhelmed, heck I was overwhelmed right now in my own position. I swallow the uncertainty and just wait patiently.         After an indeterminable amount of time, thanks to the lack of a sun, and any kind of device that measures time at all, Scootaloo speaks up, “I... I think I understand, John.”         Giving her a genuine smile, I pat her shoulder with a hoof. She shies away at first and I can tell she's a bit uncertain, but when she sees my smile she returns it.         “Thanks John. Sometimes I just get stuck in a dark place.” she comments before moving to sit beside me.         I turn my head to keep eye contact with her and as our sides meet, I feel that she's really cold and her coat is soaked through. “You must be freezing.” I point out, having been kept relatively dry from the tree, I'm a bit better off and press in close to her, sharing my own body heat. Scootaloo let's out a content sigh and to my surprise, she falls asleep next to me.         “Well... I guess. Um, this is okay. Once the rain stops I'll take her home or something.” I whisper to myself.         My mind fills with questions. Where am I? Am I a pony like Scootaloo? Who am I? Why can't I remember? Do I want to remember? What will I do? What can I do? But it all boils down and I find the solution, even if it is a temporary one. I am in the right place, at the right time and for the first time in this new life, I feel a true sense of accomplishment. > Welcome to Ponyville > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- My Little Pony: Finding Faith Chapter 2 “Ponyville”         My eyes take a moment to adjust in the sunlight filtering down through the many branches of the tree above me. As the bright splotches fade, I take note of the mess of purple draping over my shoulder as Scootaloo sleeps, her chest rising and falling in a constant rhythm. I raise my left hoof and examine it, the strangest sensation of something being wrong, nibbling at the back of my mind.         Scootaloo shifts, pushing herself up and rubbing her eyes with her hooves. As her disorientation clears, she turns her gaze to me and blushes furiously.         “S-Sorry! I-I can't believe I fell asleep on you!” she stammers, her voice still gruff from just having woken up and not clearing her throat at all.         I shake my head and a chuckle that begins in my chest causes my shoulders to bounce, “Don't worry about it Scootaloo, it was wet and miserable and I guess we were both tired.” I say in an effort to dismiss the awkwardness she's experiencing.         She still seems incapable of shaking it off but nods all the same. Running a hoof through the grass at her side she begins to gaze off into the distance, her eyes blinking slowly as the grogginess of sleep wears off. I follow her gaze and notice, for the first time, some structures made from what appears to be thatched hay as well as a combination of brick and stone several kilometres away.         I get up and slowly make my way over to the edge of the lake. The surface is still, now that the rain has stopped. My gaze lowers and I see myself for the first time, gazing back is a set of large but soft, green eyes surrounded by the sea of white fur-like hair that comprises my coat. Black and gray locks of hair form a mane that dangles to the left of my horn, my left ear barely pokes out from the mess. I turn my head from side to side, getting a look at myself from all angles before Scootaloo steps up beside me, gazing into the reflection herself.         Scootaloo looks over at my reflection and I begin to pull faces, scrunching my muzzle up, poking my tongue out and even dragging my cheek down to expose the pink muscle that makes up my eye socket. She begins to giggle before it works its way up into an outright laugh. I turn and push her over playfully, her legs flail in the air as she struggles for breath between fits of laughter.         Looking down at her with a grin growing wide on my face, I prod her in the side and motion towards what I assume is a town. “So, do you mind showing me around today Scootaloo?” I ask.         She puts her hoof to her chin in thought for a moment before slowly working up an answer, “I guess I could take you around town. It won't hurt anypony and it'd be nice to hang out with somepony for a change instead of trying to find something to do myself.”         I offer her a hoof to help her up off the ground and she sets a brisk pace, setting out for the town which resembles a village at the moment, but who am I to question a resident of the place? As we trot over the field, I look around, observing the surrounding area and notice a large collection of clouds further out, at the edges of the town with a rainbow peaking over the top.         “Hey, uh, Scootaloo. What's with those clouds over there and the rainbow?” I ask, gesturing over at them with my hoof as she stops to see what I'm indicating.         Her eyes widen and I swear that I can see a kind of sparkle in them as she turns from the clouds and back to me. “That's Rainbow Dash's house!” she says in awe. None too impressed by just the name, I prod for more information.         “So... what does 'Rainbow Dash' do?” I expand the topic for her in an attempt to learn something about the world I know little about.         She shakes her head, I assume to clear the awestruck expression from her face as she puts a more serious one in its place. “She's only the fastest pegasus in all of Equestria! And the coolest of the Wonderbolts!” her wings begin to beat from the obvious excitement I'm putting her in at the mere thought of this Rainbow Dash.         “Oh okay, I never thought someone could make a house out of clouds seeing as they aren't solid. At least, I think they aren't solid.” I say thoughtfully, observing the opaqueness of the clouds that form the 'house' of this Rainbow dash. In all honesty, the clouds look like they could pass off as white walls, if it weren't for the logic in my mind screaming at me that clouds were not solid and were in fact tiny particles of water, in the most basic sense of course.         Scootaloo knocks me playfully with a hoof, “Come on don't be silly! The pegasus city, Cloudsdale is made out of clouds too-” she stops as my expression slowly turns into one of awe. “You're serious?”         I nod slowly, trying to process the information. An entire city made of clouds, up in the sky, with ponies in it. I don't know whether to press for more information that might blow my mind, or to leave it be for the time being.         Deciding that my sanity is more important than knowing, I gesture for Scootaloo to lead the way once more. She quickly turns and we begin making our way towards the town. The rest of the walk is relatively uneventful, neither of us say much more to one another and I manage to keep my questions to myself until we reach the edge of the town.         “Now entering Ponyville, have a nice day.” Scootaloo says suddenly, in what I interpret as an attempt at humour. I quickly give a quiet chuckle and file the nugget of information away. So the town is Ponyville, aptly named I guess.         We come out between some buildings and onto a carefully maintained path. Some ponies are going about their business and barely sparing us a glance, which is fine by me. Scootaloo directs me down the 'street' as I come to realise that's what it is, and out into a larger area with cobblestone making up most of the surface area of the ground. I can hear the hustle and bustle of town life in the area around as I realise there are dozens of ponies, probably even more, talking amongst small groups of themselves, standing at stalls, sitting on benches, eating, drinking and so many other activities that I can barely comprehend it all.         Scootaloo doesn't stop however and ploughs on to the center of the area and turns to me as I try to catch up on the lost ground between us. “This is the marketplace where ponies come to buy and sell goods or just hang out with one another.” She informs me, ignoring the awed expression I'm sporting as she gestures around.         “Most of Ponyville is divided up into 'districts' this one is the market district, over through there is the shopping district,” she motions with a hoof as she explains, “and further that way is the upper end of town where the Mayor's office is, see that tall building? That's the office. And over there you can see the top of Sugarcube Corner.” I follow her hoof as she indicates landmarks and I try to make a mental map of the town which looks more and more like a small city.         “And over there, just down past the shopping district is the bulk of the residential area, and that tree over there? That's Books and Branches, a library that Twilight Sparkle runs with her assistant, Spike.” she points at the top of a tree which I can see some windows in amongst the branches of. I whistle then turn a full circle, taking it all in as best I can.         We begin making our way to the plaza, some ponies stop to wave and say hello, I wave back but we don't stop for long. As we pass more buildings, I spend a moment to observe them a little more in detail. It looks like the roofs are definitely made out of closely bundled hay layered across the entire span. The walls are mostly some white washed material, it's kind of porous like unpainted plaster, but I really have no idea what it actually was. As I come to this conclusion, I realise we're now in the plaza and in the centre is a large building that looks like it should be in a dessert parlour. Wait! That's Sugarcube Corner, one of the landmarks that Scootaloo showed me from the marketplace. So awesome!         Something about the adventure of exploring unknown territory just makes my heart fill with indescribable joy. I physically bounce right up beside Scootaloo who gives me a brief look of concern before casting her gaze around the plaza.         I spot a minty green pony slouching back in a chair out the front of a building, likely a restaurant, with a cream coated pony opposite her, giving the minty one a dark glare. With half a mind to go over and introduce myself, I stop that thought when Scootaloo gasps sharply before ducking behind me.         “What?” I ask, a little surprised by the sudden change in mood. Scootaloo tries to minimise her profile behind mine and I turn to look in the direction she's hiding from.         I see two young girls, or I should be correct here and use the term 'mares', one cream coated with red mane and tail, a bow at the back of her mane. Another with a white coat and a light lavender mane and tail that are brushed into some sort of style which I assume is the current fashion. The two are roughly the same height as Scootaloo, who comes up to my chin when we stand up at our full heights, and both of them, I realise, have cutie marks. The deep cream one has an apple slice in a glass cutie mark and the white one bears an easel with a blank canvas propped on it.         “Is it those two?” I ask, pointing a hoof over at the pair while they make their way towards a shop with a sign indicating that its some arts and crafts store.         Scootaloo nods but doesn't supply an answer as to why she's avoiding them, they don't seem like bad peop-errr, ponies, at a glance. Of course I could be entirely wrong since the saying goes, don't judge a book by its cover, right?         That's when I notice Scootaloo is slinking away to the other side of the plaza. I trot up to her and give her a quizzical look before she just shakes her head and we trot through Ponyville, ending up in one of the parks scattered throughout the districts. Scootaloo stops at a water fountain and peers into it, her features are hard and I gather she's not a happy chappy.         “What's the matter?” I ask her. Falling onto my haunches beside her as she dangles a hoof into the rippling water of the fountain. My gaze travels up to the peak where the water spurts out and falls back down into the basin.         We seem to sit there for a while, I don't press any harder for answers, a gut feeling telling me that if she is going to tell me why she acted the way she did back there, she will do it when she's ready, and more importantly, if she's comfortable with talking about it of course.         I turn away from the fountain and gaze back at the town and skies above, watching as a pegasus bucks some clouds on the far edge of the town. The clouds vaporise under the hooves of the pegasus and they move on to some other clouds to repeat the process.         Everything I've seen so far gives me this sense of... security that I don't think I've ever felt before now. Everything just works and it works well, harmoniously in fact. The resident ponies are polite and welcoming, and if I could say so myself, were rather cute. A small, dark corner of my mind tried to nag at me, telling me that I don't belong here and that it won't last, something will go wrong at some point, but I dismiss it. What does that voice know anyway? Seems like it just sits at the back of my mind and moans whenever it feels like!         Much to my surprise, Scootaloo turns to me, “Ugh... they were my old friends from when we were fillies.” she starts, her voice downcast and her eyes unfocused. I honestly hadn't expected her to open up like that, but I nod and go along with it.         “We grew up and when they got their cutie marks and I didn't... we drifted apart.” she added. There was a little more to the situation than that, I feel, but I don't ask or comment on that thought. I just nod along, accepting what I have so far as an explanation.         We sit in silence for a while more, I'm mulling over the day so far and trying to think of a way to cheer Scootaloo up a bit, and I assume she's just running over the past in her head. I get up on and turn to her, “If you want some advice? Try not to dwell too much on the past or it gets in the way of the future. I'm going to go and explore more of Ponyville now that I have some bearings on where to go, so take some time for yourself and think about stuff.”         Scootaloo looks up at me, startled by the interrupted silence. So I give her a reassuring smile, I like her and I want to help her feel better but she needs to be able to carry her own doubts and misgivings on her own, that's what makes a person, and I assume a pony, stronger after all and she needs to be able to carry it herself without someone there all the time.         She nods, accepting the announcement and picks herself up off the ground before walking slowly through the park. Part of me wants to chase after her, but I subdue it and focus on my own needs for the very moment, the here and now. I should become acquainted with the town and its residents, see what I can learn or do to become familiar with the way things work here and perhaps maybe to jog my memory shirk that haze. > The spoils of hard work > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- My Little Pony: Finding Faith Chapter 3 “Spoils of hard work”         The ponies in Ponyville, for the most part, are really warm and welcoming, very friendly bunch of individuals.  Already several had stopped to greet me and to offer help if I needed it.  It was obvious that they could easily pick out a stranger from their crowd so I guess it was a good thing I hadn’t been trying to blend in already.         I found myself in the market again, browsing the goods on sale, ponies of all shapes, sizes, palette and manner call out, advertising their goods, trying to barter sales to any of the ponies passing by. One such pony begins to call out at me, I turn and trot up to the stall.         “Howdy!  Ya’ must be new round here!” The mare states with a cheery southern accent.  A broad brim hat sits atop her head, hiding most of her blond mane, her green eyes suit the orange of her coat.         “That’s right, was just looking around and checking out the sights, tourist and all.” I explain with a smile.         She beams at me as a large stallion with a light sun faded, red coat pushes some baskets up to the stall beside her.  “Say now, interested in some delicious Apple Acre apples?” the orange mare asks, drawing my attention back to her again.         I give her an apologetic shrug with my shoulders and smile meekly, “Sorry... haven’t got anything to buy them with on me.” I explain.         “Now, that ain’t a problem is it Big Mac?” she asks, turning to the red stallion, his orange mane flicks lightly as his attention is brought to our discussion, almost as if he hadn’t been aware of us being there.         “Ah-nope.” Big Mac states matter of factly. I look back over at the mare whom turns to me, “Now, Big Mac could do with a break, why don’t ya’ help by moving those baskets and a few of ‘em crates-” she stops to point with a hoof at several crates and baskets stacked in by a cart, “-with magic, that’d pay for some apples.”         I take a moment, inspecting the crates, they look pretty heavy, and if they’re full of apples... well now, it could be a bit of a task. Wait... she said to use ‘magic’... I look back over at the salespony in her brown hat. Magic? Really? Shaking the sense of incredulousness off, I turn my gaze back over at the red stallion. Of course, this Big Mac fellow looked like he could plow a brick wall down just by running at it, but who was I to argue that he might need a break? Besides... helping someone seems to tickle my fancy.         With absolutely no idea what she meant by magic, I shrug and give her a smile, “Sure, it won’t hurt to try, besides we all might get a good laugh out of it!” I finish with a light chuckle before turning to the navigate the gap between stalls to the supply of goods in those crates.         I can feel two sets of eyes on me as I approach the timber boxes and I inspect them for a moment, trying to see what way might be best to move them without making a fool of or hurting myself. I decide that pulling them is out of the question, I’d have better luck getting behind them and pushing.  So I select one that’s on the ground and clear some of the baskets out of the way to give it a clear shot at the apple stall.  With ease I leap over the crate, landing on all four hooves gracefully.  I feel a sliver of pride worm its way into my consciousness but decide to ignore it for the time being as I spin around and gently press my chest against the box.         “Ah thought you might like to use some o’ that unicorn magic of yours to move them, but hey if you want to give them a good old, earth pony push, ah’d not dream of stopping ya.” the orange mare says with hearty chuckle as she watches on, the red stallion seems unable to look anywhere else but at me.         I take a deep breath, steel myself, then press up hard against the box with my chest and begin to grind my hooves across the stone that makes up the surface of the marketplace. I hear a creak and then the sound of wood dragging on metal as the sheer force of my forward movement pushes the heavy box.  Now I realise why the big fellow needs a break, these are darn heavy!         Not wanting to disappoint, nor to be shown up as someone unable to do the task, I press on, shoving and shunting the crate until it’s lined up with the stall.  With a loud gasp for air, I sit back and look up at the mare who’s grinning from ear to ear, which is quite a feat for something with the facial structure of these ponies.         I look back over my shoulder, there’s still another three crates and several baskets of apples waiting to be moved and so, before anyone can make a comment, I get back up and begin shunting the baskets one by one to the stall.  The mare snaps into action, immediately replacing her already sold stock on the stall’s bench and pushing the remaining baskets under the stall itself, out of the way.         The crates pose a problem, they’re pretty heavy and the first one took a lot out of me... but undeterred I get behind the second crate that is placed on the ground, resting my chest on the side again. “Ya don’t have to do it by hoof you know, unicorn magic won’t hurt.” the mare states, a look of concern on her face.         I give her a shrug, “It’s good exercise.” I explain, deflecting what felt like an entry for questions about magic and why I wasn’t using it.  I press hard against the crate and begin to shove, my hooves scraping along the stone below and I begin to think. Me? Use Magic? The idea, for some reason, feels as ridiculous as being able to fly.  Then again... Scootaloo can fly, so maybe I really can use magic? I look up and realise that I’ve reached the stall, I turn and begin to shunt it up close to the stall, in front of the first crate I’d moved.         As the crate presses up to its brother, I get a start when an orange hoof suddenly slaps down on the box. “Now, that’s some mighty fine work there,” I look up and over at the mare who’s smiling. “Thanks for the help!  Big Mac ‘preciates the rest!” In confirmation the red stallion lets out a calm, “Eeyup!”         I lean back so I can get a view of the two ponies, “Here for your help!” the mare says, pushing a small basket with several of the juiciest looking Apples I think I ever laid eyes upon, ever, in all the history of me being alive, but with the lack of memory and all... that’s not too hard hard, on second thought they appear to be some incredibly juicy and delicious red apples! “Thanks!” I say with cheer before using a hoof to carefully drag the basket to me.         “Say, didn’t catch your name ‘fore you started moving crates.  Ah’m Applejack.” Applejack says, with a proud hoof to her chest.  I stand up and return the smile she’s wearing, “I’m John Doe,” I introduce myself. “Well John Doe, can ah call ya John?  Yes? Okay, well John, what exactly brings ya to these here parts of Equestria?”         What should I say?  I hadn’t thought about this, stupid! Stupid, stupid! I quickly rack my brains working up something plausible, even if it is weakly founded. “Uh, I’m just travelling; you know? Here, there, exploring a bit, learning new things, experiencing new cultures and stuff.” I say feeling a bit pressured, I give her a smile that I hope is convincing.         Luckily, Applejack doesn’t get a chance to respond, she leaps over the stall bench and lifts up a small pony, I’d guess since it’s a he, he is a colt to be using the correct terms.  The colt has an apple locking in his jaws.  It takes me a moment to realise what happened before I scowl. The child had tried to steal an apple!         With the colt in her right hoof, struggling to escape, she begins to shout out about the nerve, and how dare ‘anypony’ try to steal from the market, let alone from the ‘Apple Family’ while I want to see what exactly happens to the colt, who’s dropped the apple by now and is crying, trying to scramble away from the orange mare who is on a complete and destructive roll. I instead turn down to my basket and inspect it for a moment.         How am I meant to carry the darn thing?  I walk on all fours.  It has a handle. I then get a brain wave, the colt had the apple in his mouth instead of nabbing it with a hoof, of course, how stupid!  I lean down and grab the handle in between my teeth, clamping down just enough to grip it without crushing the woven material.         Just as things start to heat up with the colt thief and the stallmare, I hoof it out of there!  Hah, hoof it! I’m starting to sound like a local! Setting out at a trot, I weave my way back through the streets and even through an alley as I navigate back to the park where I left Scootaloo.  The Sugarcube Corner helps a lot as a reference point and after several minutes of trotting and smiling at passing by ponies who say hello, I find myself back on the park green.  The soft grass under my hooves feels refreshing and welcome after the hard stone of the streets.         I make my way down a lightly beaten track, casting my gaze left and right as I look for a certain orange mare with the purple mane.  I pass the fountain where I’d left her, but she’s moved on by now, so I continue further on.  I crest a hill, passing by two ponies sitting on a blue checkered blanket with a picnic basket between them. Standing on the hill gives me a great view of the surrounding park and even beyond.  Further out I can make out what appears to be a farmstead, the entire property surrounded by picket fences, and what appears to be an immense orchard of fruit bearing trees.  Turning right gives me an amazing view of open fields that run so far out that they hit mountains that look like small hills, the colouration the only indicator that they are infact mountains. Turning left of the farm rewards me with a view of a wild forest, following the treeline I spot a small cottage with a stream running alongside it.         I lower my line of sight back down to the park and finally spot my quarry, Scootaloo is sitting down in the shade of a tree, facing the tree trunk.  Her coat and mane unmistakable to me, very few ponies thus far that I’d seen had similar shades of her palette.         I set off again at a trot and make my a bee-line for Scootaloo, after all, they say ‘As the crow flies’ is the quickest route after all.  Ponies trot this way and that, youngsters bolt around playing all sorts of games, some I can’t even conceive with my imagination, but others are familiar to me, like tag and hide and seek.  The ponies of Ponyville are happy and peaceful, they live and lead good lives from what I can see and their entire community appears entirely self sufficient, with food, water, labour and leadership.  These are a hard working people and they enjoy life to their fullest.         So why is Scootaloo so down?  Not once had I been harassed about the lack of a cutie mark, even Applejack and Big Mac had full view of my flank while I helped out but not once did they comment about it, it was like it was perfectly normal, which I knew wasn’t exactly true, all of the adults I’d seen had their marks, some of the children too.  So why... why does it get Scootaloo so down?         I’m so deep in thought that I nearly trot right into Scootaloo.  I manage to stop just shy of her and look up to the trunk.  She’s been at it  with a stick, digging into the bark and making carvings.  I take a moment to drink in the sight, trying to understand the marks until I see it, a pegasus sitting on a cloud, proud as another pegasus flies past, smaller than the first.         I clear my throat to announce my presence and Scootaloo jumps with a start, turning as she lands.  The sight is almost comical if not for the mostly sad expression she has.         “Hey Scootaloo, how’re you feeling?” I ask around the basket, with a surprising amount of control. She doesn’t answer at first but then she looks up into my eyes and shakes her head slowly, “Still... not good.”         I place the basket down in front of her and smile, “Well maybe some lunch will help, yeah?  I got these from the market for helping some ponies.” she looks down into the basket at the nine apples sitting in there, a gentle shine evident on their almost polished surfaces.         “Maybe...” she starts, not sounding too convinced. I lean over and grip an apple with my front teeth before tossing it up into the air over my head. I take a step back, open my mouth and catch the apple expertly - honestly a fluke - in my teeth again and with a chomp, the apple breaks under the sheer force, I catch the half I couldn’t fit into my mouth with an upturned hoof before chewing the apple.  The first thing I notice is the juice, there’s a lot of it, but not too much and it’s not as acidic as I remember apples to be.  Very sweet and it’s extremely delicious with that perfect crunch that you never ever normally get to experience normally.         “Mmm, soo gooood!” I say, half the broken up apple already gone, the other still in a cheek. She just giggles lightly which makes me feel a warm glow inside at having lifted her mood, even if it is just a little.  With a forced gulp, the apple half is gone and I proceed to bite a chunk out of the remaining half, chewing it a little quicker this time, not needing to savor it.         I watch as Scootaloo selects an apple and takes a bite out of it, chewing thoughtfully as she gazes out at the park; giving me a chance to get a really good look at her.  Her coat is a bit dirty, not enough to be gross but it’s noticeable up close and her mane and tail are unkempt, and not in that attractive, natural way either.  I can see the veins in her eyes, the whites ever so lightly tinged pink. I can see the effects of depression and they upset me.  I swallow the remaining part of the apple before moving over to the tree trunk. I put a hoof next to the pegasus sitting on a cloud and speak up, “This is that Rainbow Dash you mentioned earlier isn’t it? The one sitting on the cloud here.”         Scootaloo doesn’t answer at first, seeming to have not heard me, but before I can repeat the question she answers at last, “Yeah, that’s her.” I lower my hoof over the bark until it rests just below the second pegasus. “This one that’s flying, that’s you.” The pause isn’t as long this time, her answer comes and her voice is void of emotion, “Yeah...”         I turn and sit next to her, the basket of apples sitting before us in the grass, I press my side to hers and whisper softly, more out of habit than necessity. “Dream?” She shakes her head, “Nightmare.” > Budding Friendship > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- My Little Pony: Finding Faith Chapter 4 “Budding Friendship”         “Nightmare?” I ask, confused by the statement.  She adores Rainbow Dash, how could it be a nightmare to fly for her as an audience?         “It’s...” She takes a deep breath, “Complicated.” Her gaze moves away, and I’m presented with the back of her head.  I frown for a moment, not sure how to prod at the topic without rubbing some raw spots, but I know it has to be approached, she needs to heal and I can tell she won’t get over it, not easily unless someone - or somepony - helps her.         I decide to begin with a statement of my own, it seems only fitting. “Lot’s of things are complicated, waking up to find yourself hanging upside down in a tree in the middle of heavy rain without your memories is pretty complicated - so I’m sure I’ll be able to handle whatever it was that happened to you.” I nudge her gently in the side.         There’s silence for a full minute, I begin to think she’s not going to answer until finally she manages to choke out, “It was the greatest day of my life...” She still doesn’t turn to face me, perhaps out of shame.         “Was?  What happened?  Come on Scootaloo, you can’t bottle this stuff up.” I let out a breath and peer up at the branches above for a moment before lowering my gaze again, “We only met yesterday, but I really want to help you... you’re kind of my only friend here... if that’s what this-” I indicate to her with my hoof before turning it back on myself for emphasis, “-is, friendship.”         She finally turns to face me, her violet eyes cast downward, I reach out and pull her into a friendly hug to prove my statement.  We sit like that in the shadow of the tree for a time, the seconds blur into minutes and the minutes become a quarter of an hour of simple silence in the embrace until she finally speaks up, her voice almost a murmur. “I was competing with some colts from Cloudsdale, I’d found my wings a couple of months before that so I wanted to prove to Rainbow Dash just how good I was getting.”         I’m starting to see where this is going, worse, I have a feeling I know what happens.  She presses on without interruption from me, “It was all going good... we did some laps of the city... but then I came up to the slalom of cloud pillars for the third time and I took it a bit too fast.  I clipped the second pillar with my wing and all I remember is the sound of something snapping, like a loud crack; then I blacked out.  I came to in a hospital bed, I’d broken my wing and if it hadn’t have been Rainbow Dash there watching... I might not have made it to the hospital at all!  According to the doctors if Rainbow had been a few seconds slower I could very well have hit the ground.”         Okay I hadn’t expected her nearly dying!  It sounds just awful, worse... I can imagine suddenly being off both - err, all four of my legs and told I can’t walk!  It would drive me insane, take flight from a creature born to fly who only just got that skill... it’d be enough to drive anything mad.  I peer down at her with one eye and I feel a newfound understanding of this mare.         “Even after it healed, you’d lost a lot of your confidence and being off the wing for so long, you practically had to relearn flying again, right?” I ask, sensing that is the general gist of what occurred. I idly rub her with my hoof to comfort her. For a moment she just breathes gently into my neck before answering, “Yeah... something like that.”         Yeah... something like that; probably entailed rehabilitation, therapy and a loving and supporting family to be there at your side... which Scootaloo doesn’t have, being an orphan.  I try to put it into perspective, imagining the loss of use in my legs, inability to move, while it’s a little more drastic than losing a secondary mode of transport, I can definitely imagine how agonising it would be to work through that, and then have to start all over again before resuming a normal life.  But Scootaloo... I don’t think she’s gotten over that incident, she seems unsure of herself like under the tree we met before she flew up, she looked like she was thinking against it.         We sit under the shade and I continue to rub my hoof across her back and shoulders in a comforting way, I’m not sure if she’s watching the others out in the park or is sitting there with her eyes closed but her breathing is calm and her muscles are steadily loosening.  Yet... I want to know more about her, I want to help her and for the love of me I can’t tell why!  It’s starting to get frustrating that I’m focusing so much on this mare I met only yesterday when I have my own, very serious issue to solve.  Really, I can’t remember anything pertaining to the details of my life, I can recall other things, things that don’t do much to help such as how I’m used to saying ‘anyone’ instead of ‘anypony’ and for some reason that seems even more absurd with each passing minute, I was bipedal.         I shift uncomfortably as a thought crosses my mind, what if I never was anything other than a pony and I simply have a really bad case of amnesia?  It’s possible for a mind to make up an entire reality in an effort to make sense of the muddle of thoughts in it or lack thereof, it can fill in entire blank spots with false ones just so there’s no gaps.  But... I don’t have gaps, the memories don’t seem to be missing at all.  I can try and recall... my mother’s face but all that comes up is a haze in my mind’s eye, like I know what she looks like but for some gosh darned unfathomable reason I can’t pick the memory out of the whirlpool of a lake that my mind seems to represent.         “How are you doing, John?” Scootaloo asks, surprising me a bit. How am I doing? Not bad... not good, somewhere in between would be a good place to start I guess, I want to know what’s going on, why I can’t remember.  What am I missing?         “I’m fine,” I reply.  It doesn’t matter, whatever it all is, I’m sure I’ll figure it out or it’ll come back to me sometime.  Until then I have some other concerns, such as cheering up this brilliant girl.         “You were pensive for a bit there, are you suuure you’re okay?” she insists, turning over to look at me for the first time in a while of us sitting here.         I muster up my most convincing grin and nod to her, after all, life’s good when you’re with a friend and a basket of delicious apples. Speaking of...  I reach over, my hoof seems to simply... grasp the apple and lift it from the basket before promptly moving it to the end of my muzzle and taking a nice big chunk out of the juicy red delight.  I chew cheerily and swallow the hunk and let out a cry of protest as Scootaloo climbs over me and nabs an apple for herself and joins me in feasting.         We sit there, munching on apples and just enjoying the other’s company for a good portion of the afternoon, watching ponies do this and that before the sun begins to lower drawing near the horizon.  I promptly reach over and grab the basket and don it like a helmet, turning to Scootaloo I whip a hoof up and salute her stiffly.         “Officer John Doe, reporting for duty, Ma’am!” I bark out with false discipline.  She bursts out into fits of laughter at the sudden change in mood and I grin to her before pushing her over to her side.  Oh no, I’m not out of the woods, a hoof reaches up and hooks me around the neck and drags me down into a tangle of wings and legs.  I laugh as she struggles to pull herself up and we just end up rolling down the hill, struggling against one another like little kids at play time.         We reach the bottom of the hill and I manage to untangle myself from Scootaloo, I push myself up and reach out, tapping her with a hoof “You’re it!” I say gleefully before darting away.  As I rush back up the hill to dive around the tree trunk, I hear her protest and start up after me, “Oh no you don’t!”         “Yeah I do!” I shout back before darting behind the tree, swinging around and tripping on an exposed root, which sends me rolling back down the hill in a heap.         “Ooof!” I grunt, coming to an abrupt stop.  I hear the sound of hooves on grass and cry out when a weight drops on top of me.         “Gotcha!” Scootaloo cries before looking down at me, seeming quite proud of having caught me.         I adjust the basket on my head, ignoring the itch it’s causing my throat or the awkward pressure on my horn and give her a grin, “You did, heh” I feel awesome, absolutely awesome looking up at the orange mare, her purple mane gently waving in the breeze, the last rays of sunlight shine in her eyes.         She crawls off me and I roll over to get up and then remove the basket, placing it on the ground between us.         “Uh... it’s getting late, we should probably find someplace to sleep.” Scootaloo says sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head with a hoof idly.         “Sure, any idea of where to go?” I ask, letting her take the lead here.  I want her to be comfortable, especially if I’m going to do my best to build her confidence.         “Ummm... well we could-” she stops and shakes her head, “-nah... probably not.”         “What? We could what?” I ask, tilting my head to the side inquisitively, honestly anything beats sleeping under a tree in the rain at this point.         “Well... the old clubhouse... we could go there I suppose.” she starts uncertainly, she peers out into the dying light towards an apple orchard that I’d noticed earlier.  She points out with a hoof, “It’s in there, and it’s big enough for us both, surely we left the...” she trails off, deep in thought.         I nod and clear my throat, “Well then let’s get going! I dunno about you Scootaloo but I don’t see well at night, heh.”         She snaps out of her thoughts and nods with a small smile, “Right, let’s go.” * * *         Well, it’s clubhouse material alright, it looks like it was slapped together haphazardly as an afternoon project.  Scootaloo looks over at me from where she stands, “It’s safe, Applejack and Big Mac tested it for us.”         “Ahuh...” I say curiosity piqued at what the interior looks like.  Scootaloo starts up the ramp, placing her hooves above small timber rungs to keep from sliding back.  I follow her lead and stay just a few rungs behind her, so as not to get a face full of tail.  We make our way up into the clubhouse, which is actually supported by some sturdy looking columns now that I can get a good look at them in the dim light.         There’s a squeak and Scootaloo yawns, I look up to find she’s already pushed the door open and stooped her head to get inside the structure, I make my way up the last few rungs and then follow her in, making sure to duck my head, I don’t want to hit my horn on anything after all.  As I enter and turn, Scootaloo closes the door and reaches for what I can barely make out as a lantern.  There’s a light hissing sound and then quiet as the light brightens.         “One of Sweetie Belle’s projects with magic earlier... lantern making cutie mark crusading, heh.” Scootaloo says wistfully, looking into the light as it grows steadily before she places it down on a surface that I assume is a table.  As my eyes adjust to the light, I peer around.  Paper pictures are plastered over the walls, even some developed photographs of three young fillies grinning and playing together.         “Oh good, our capes are still here, we can use them as blankets.” Scootaloo states, drawing my attention to a corner where several pillows are lumped together to form a makeshift mattress.  She lifts several capes up, while they wouldn’t fit us now, the cords being far to short, the girls had seemingly made them extra large.  A mistake?  Or foresight?  Either way I was glad they had.  Scootaloo offers two to me and then proceeds to curl up on the pillow mattress, leaving enough room for me to sit beside her, which I do with a nervous glance to her.         “What?” she asks, one eye open, eyebrow raised.         “Uhh... just thought you might have wanted to sleep on opposite sides of the room or something, dunno why.” I say with a nervous chuckle.         She snorts, “I’m not a little filly anymore, John.  I’m fine with sharing a bed with a colt you know.”         Except I’m not a colt, at least... I don’t think I was, I may look it but I don’t feel it, unless... no I can’t do this now, I’ll go mad and never get to sleep.  I let out a yawn and promptly fall over onto the mattress beside her, she yelps in surprise then hits me with a hoof, “Hey!”         She snickers and I let out a quiet, “Sorry.” not sure if I really mean it or not, either way I’m tired and it doesn’t matter.  I close my eyes and try to compose myself.  Slow deep breaths and I slowly tick off the mental switches to my thoughts, turning them off. * * *         I wake up and find myself tangled up in cape blankets and Scootaloo legs. One of her wings sticks up awkwardly in the air and she snorts in her sleep.  Cute.  I look up and over to the window a simple pane of glass separates the interior from the exterior and I can just make out early morning rays of light breaking the horizon.  Sunrise, yipee! I turn back over and find myself muzzle-to-muzzle with Scootaloo and she lets out a quiet murmur in her sleep.  I can feel her breath wash over my muzzle and I refrain from shuddering to avoid rousing her... it felt nice to be like this, close to someone. It’s a new feeling, I know that much and I like it, I like it a lot, so much that I can’t bear to disturb the sleeping pegasus.         Instead I simply close my eyes and smile, enjoying her warm embrace. I can feel sleep beckoning me once more but I fend it off for a little longer.  I feel too good to just let this moment end so quickly.         It suddenly occurs to me that I might be enjoying it because I’m developing feelings outside of friendship for the pegasus.  That I might actually be developing a complex relationship, part of me likes this, likes the idea of having someone - somepony - close, but... deep down inside me I feel another part of me saying it doesn’t matter, I’m going to find out what happened to me, fix it and go back to whatever it was I was doing before.         But do I want to?  Maybe this life, here with Scootaloo, however basic it might be, is preferable to whatever I had before?  Do I care I might have been rich and famous?  Successful?  Important?  I counter the negative voice with concerns about whether or not my previous life was any good, maybe this is better than that, maybe I was sad and lonely back there?         I try and dig deep within myself, looking, searching really, for any cue, any subtle memory, a feeling, a thought, a sense... I struggle through the haze and finally I find something, like a discarded piece of garbage.         Alone, I was alone wherever I came from.  And this scares me. Do I want to be alone again?  I ponder the question for a while, Scootaloo’s soft breathing the only thing I can hear as I silently think. No, I don’t want to be alone anymore, I enjoy this mare’s company.         I want to stay here, I think.  And if I’m going to stay.... I’m going to have to prepare.  Unicorns can do magic, maybe I should figure out if I can too?  Mulling this over for a bit I feel the tug of sleep urgently at the back of my mind and finally give in to it.  Sleep first, then magic later. > Like a Jigsaw > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- My Little Pony: Finding Faith Chapter 5 “Like a Jigsaw”         I blink several times to clear my eyes of sleep, a rugged mug of water sits before me on the table which looks like it was made for someone challenged by size.  Breakfast, courtesy of chef Scootaloo, is sliced apples and dandelions on the side.  For the past three minutes I’ve been eyeing off the weeds while trying to overcome my body's cries for more sleep.         Honestly I’m not sure what to make of the dandelions, ponies eat them, heck I watched Scootaloo eat them barely minutes before, but something in my head groans in protest at the thought of the plant matter even going near my mouth.         I subconsciously brush my fringe from my eyes with a foreleg before reaching out with the same leg to grab the mug with the magical magnetic grip my hoof seems to have.  Lifting the mug to my muzzle, I drink quietly as I stare down the plant on the table.         “Aren’t you going to eat it?” Scootaloo asks at last, probably bored of watching me by now.         I shrug and look up at her, raising an eyebrow suggestively.  She takes the hint and decides to eat the dandelions herself, right in front of me.  Indifferent to the act, I just finish my water and put the mug back down on the surface of the table once more.         When Scootaloo woke up, she got a bit of a shock, having yelped in surprise at being tangled up in not only the capes but my legs as well.  Thus I roused from my peaceful sleep to find a panicked mare trying to remove herself from the mess, finally falling backward unceremoniously into the pillows.         When I tried to ask what was wrong, she muttered something incoherent and then dashed from the clubhouse in a hurry.  I didn’t bother asking anything when she’d returned with the basket from yesterday and our breakfast.         That was when I decided to keep what I’d been thinking about earlier in the morning to myself and not to worry her or make her feel uncomfortable.         “So what’s the plan for today, Scootaloo?” I ask, trying to start some conversation despite the earlier disapproval of eating the dandelions.         She scratches her chin with the tip of a hoof, swallowing the dandelions she’d served me for breakfast “I’m not sure...”         “Well, I was thinking of helping... uh what was her name again...” I trail off in thought and then clap my hooves together as it comes back to me, “Ah! Applejack and her brother Big Mac.  They sure do seem to do a lot of hard work and maybe they need a hand to-” I stop when I realise Scootaloo has fixed me with a stare.         “A hand?” She asks, putting the hoof she used to scratch her chin down onto the table, the resounding clop seems to add emphasis to her question.         “Uh, err I mean a hoof-” I try to correct myself but get cut off again.         “I know what you meant, John... are you remembering stuff?” She asks, leaning closer to me over the small table, her eyes accusing like I’ve committed some terrible crime.         I look down at my tail which twitches, giving away my nerves. “No...” I state blandly to her.  Which is true, I don’t remember anything important, just these silly little things that seem to be sillier by the hour.  Hands, what in the world has those? I can’t even remember what species the hands belong to.         “John, if you can remember anything about before we met, you need to acknowledge it.  Were you even a pony before this?” She gets up and moves around the table, her wings are clamped tightly to her sides, she’s agitated, I know enough about her already to pick up on these little cues... “Just who are you, John?” she asks.         I whip my head up and look her in the eyes now, “I don’t know!  Don’t you think this is driving me mad?  Who am I?  What am I?  Where did I come from?  Who did I leave behind?  What did I leave behind?  Was I a pony?  Why can’t I do magic? Why do I feel like I should be walking on two legs not four?  Why do I refer to ponies as people?  Everyone instead of everypony? Am I a monster? An alien?” I prattle on, the confusion and unknown eating me up.         My chest feels tight from the anxiety and yet I find more to say, “Why can’t I remember my own mother’s face?  Did I do something to her?  Am I dead and is this some afterlife?  Why do I feel the urge to put clothes on when all the ponies I’ve seen wear minimal to none?” my voice is rising but I don’t care, I’m too distraught to do anything about it.         Scootaloo takes a step back as I get up on all fours, “Why is it when I look at you I feel like I owe you something?  That it’s my duty to help you get better and to believe in yourself?  Why do I feel like I love you!?” I stop, I hadn’t meant to let that one slip. Oh... crap.         I watch as Scootaloo’s face contorts from the accusing glare into a mask of confusion and then the uncomfortable blush behind her orange coat barely shows through and she averts her eyes.         Too late, the damage is done.  I feel terrible for getting so upset and part of me wants to apologise for the outburst... instead I listen to the other part of me, it wants to be alone.  I walk over to the door, glancing at the photographs of the three fillies as the heavy clopping of my hooffalls echo around us followed by a creak as the door opens at my touch.         I stomp down to the ground and off into the trees, not really caring where I’m going.  The soft grass crumples under my hooves and I reach the edge of the orchard which is fenced off by a low timber fence, the fence itself, as I had observed the day before, seems more to mark the edge of the property rather than to keep things out.         As I duck through a gap in the fence and continue on - towards Ponyville - I mull over the fact that I hadn’t seen many wild critters about causing mayhem, it strikes me as odd but it seems like the ponies have absolutely everything under control.  After a brief explanation on how the weather works here in Equestria and how the two Princesses, Celestia and Luna control the sun and moon, it should have been more obvious that here, nature isn’t something that occurs naturally rather that it is cultivated into a prime state.         Farmer’s crops grow so well due to the controlled rain and sun thanks to the Pegasi, the princesses modulate when the sun and moon rise, affecting the growth of plants and the tide of the oceans, and what the princesses and the Pegasi don’t control, the Unicorns are capable of adapting with magic.  The four species, Alicorn, Unicorn, Pegasi and Earth pony all work together in harmony to create a wonderful place to live.         So where do I fit into this picture?  I look up past my fringe at the partially obscured unicorn horn that adorns my forehead, the partially obscured and useless horn.  It’s not like it’s small or anything, in comparison to some of the locals in Ponyville I’d seen, my horn seems the average size.         The sudden transition from grass to stone brings me out of my thoughts.  I’ve arrived at Ponyville for the second time in my Equestrian life and already even though it’s early, there are residents trotting down the streets that criss-cross the area.  I take a breath and ready myself to join the others, maybe I’ll find some answers, or at the very least some paying work... I can’t live off apples.         Just as I take a step forward, I let out a shame inducing shriek and backpedal several paces when a pink pony drops out of the tree beside me and lands on all fours like an expert acrobat.  Her mane and tail reminds me of fairy floss, her coat is a lighter shade of pink but her eyes are a sky blue and she wears a happy-go-lucky expression.         “Hiya!  Oooh! You’re a new pony in town aren’t you?  I know everypony and I mean everypony in Ponyville! Ohmygosh!  That means I have to throw a ‘Welcome to Ponyville’ party for you!  Ooh this is going to be soooooo fun!” she gushes with barely a breath.  I can feel that my ears have gone flat and my heart is hammering in my chest.         “Oh! Sorry did I startle you?  Oh well!  I guess you want to know what an Earth Pony like me was doing in the tree!?  Yes? Oki Doki Loki! I was scouting for an-” she stops, leaning toward me with a hoof to one side of her muzzle as if to muffle what she’s going to say next, “-alien!” She leans back once more, evacuating my personal space bubble which has since been completely and utterly burst.         “So I was up there, and spotted little old you!  And you looked just so upset, I can’t possibly tell why, the weather is absolutely perfect today! So I decided you needed somepony to cheer you up!  I’m Pinkie Pie!” She finishes, a hoof liberally extended to me.         I reach out slowly and take it, “John” she shakes my hoof quickly then relinquishes her grip before batting her eyelids at me, “Sooooo, why are you so upset?”         My slack jawed expression quickly changes to that of a frown as Pinkie Pie prys. “I don’t mean to be rude Pinkie Pie, but I’d rather not say, it’s not any of your business.”         She frowns as I get up and start to move past her, “But I can’t let a pony go around being all glum!”         I snort but continue onward, following the street to the center of town, maybe I can find Applejack in the market setting up? “Well no need to worry then Pinkie Pie, you won’t be letting a pony go around being all glum.” I retort, perhaps being a smartass isn’t exactly necessary, but I’m not in the best of moods if you can’t already tell.         I glance over at her and stop, she’s deadpanning me.  The expression is just completely off after all this bubbly excitement and cheer.         “What?” I ask, feeling uncomfortable at her scrutiny.         She seems to size me up, like I’m a contestant in some sports event before she opens her mouth, “You-” but she never gets to finish what she was going to say, another voice calls out from behind us, “-Pinkie Pie! There you are! I’ve been looking all over Ponyville for you, sheesh you’re hard to find when you’re needed.”         I turn my head and peer behind me as a purple unicorn trots down the street towards us, her mane and tail streaked with a light shade of purple, almost violet going on red.  Her fringe is cut flat so that it just sits above her brow and doesn’t get in the way of her eyes.         “Oh hey Twilight! I was just-” Pinkie Pie begins but is interrupted again, “-not now Pinkie, this is urgent!  I need to-” the purple pony is cut off by the pink one, “-of course! I’ll lend a hoof!” She turns around and I let out a sigh of relief until I realise she’s looking at me, “Don’t think I haven’t forgotten about your Welcome to Ponyville party, mister!” She says before blowing a raspberry at me and cheekily bouncing up to meet Twilight.         I roll my eyes, perhaps she’s dense but at least she isn’t pestering me about what I meant when I snapped back at her.  As the voices of the two ponies fade off into the distance, one trotting the other bouncing, I return to my trek into town and make my way towards the market.         The rest of my ‘voyage’ is rather peaceful and allows me to mull some more things over, just before I yelled at Scootaloo about how I felt about her... I’d mentioned my mother and how I can’t bring up her face.  Why do I get this bad feeling when I try to remember her?  It’s like there are stones in my belly and the more I try to remember the heavier they become, weighing me down.  Just as I begin to circle around in my head going back to the question, who am I? I realise I’ve arrived at my destination.  Ponyville Market.         I quickly shake my head to rid it of the gloomy thoughts and begin to glance around, looking for the orange pony in her brown stetson.  It’s still fairly early in the day so I’m not surprised to still find ponies organising their stalls for the duration of the day ahead.  I trot around, barely paying attention to any of the goods available until I find whom I’m looking for.         “Howdy there John, what brings ya here so early in the mornin’?” the familiar accent brings a small smile to my face.         I approach the stall to find Big Mac already moving their goods about, pushing the boxed apples off of their timber wagon with a dull thud as each box hits the stone ground.  “I was wondering if either of you would mind me helping out today?  Give me something to do, y’know.”  I turn back to look the mare in face, her green eyes beaming down at me from the stall.         “Well ain’t that just sweet!  But we don’t take no free labour in the Apple family, do we Big Mac?” she turns to the red stallion who shakes his head before shuffling behind another box. “We insist you get proper payment if you’re gonna help us out.”         Well that was easy, paid work at the drop of a hat?  A brown stetson I should say, at any rate I feel a bit better despite the mornings events thus far and rear up to put my hooves on the stall counter. “Awesome!  What can I do to start things off, Applejack?”         She grins at me before motioning with an orange hoof to make my way around the stall, which I do.  I meet her around the back and find her opening one the boxes with a crowbar. There’s a popping sound as the lid of the crate unjams and slides off to the slide with a thunk.         “Let’s get started by sortin’ these apples here onto the counter, this here crate is full of Red Delicious apples, and that one-” she points to the crate sitting beside the already opened one, “-full of Granny Smith apples, once we do that, ya could help me with the customers while Big Mac goes back to the farm to sort some personal stuff out.”         I give her a confident nod, “Alrighty, let’s get to it then!” she returns my nod with a pleased smile before we dig right in hoof first.  It’s slow going, I can see why she wants me to help with it in particular.  We can only grapple one apple per hoof so at most we could place two at a time and there’s maybe a hundred or more!         Most of the morning whiles away fast as the apples pile up neatly on the open spaces of the counter, we run out of space on the first so Applejack clears the second for some more while I crack open a third crate to compliment the leftovers of the first two.         “Say, John.  I don’t mean to pry an all as it’s not any of my business as such, but... why don’t ya use magic to do any of this?  Just cause Ponyville was founded by Earth Ponies and we do our Winter Wrap Up different, don’t mean ya have to do everything the same way.” Applejack speaks up as she finishes placing the last of her equipment below the counter before turning to the crate I’ve just opened.         She’s right of course, it’s none of her business so long as I can do the job at hand... ugh, at hoof.  But I like her, she seems dependable and trustworthy and I get this feeling she won’t laugh at me unless it’s something utterly ridiculous.         “Well... you see Applejack.” I begin slowly, helping her organise the last of the Granny Smith’s on the new counter space. “I actually... don’t know how to do magic.”         We continue to place the remaining apples on the counter as she mulls this over for a while. “Ya don’t know how?  Or ya can’t do it?” she finally asks, stopping her work to rub her chin with a hoof in thought.         “Well I just... don’t know how, never done it before.” I say, I could have gone on about not doing it ever in my life... but life here has been short thus far.         The last apples fall into place and I step back with a smile.  We’ve done it and none too soon either, our first customer is already inspecting the Red Delicious apples on the first counter.         “Well, I have a good unicorn friend who might be able to help with that if ya’d like.” She turns to the pony inspecting the apples and we wait quietly until she finally asks, “Could I possibly get a dozen of the red ones please?”  Applejack looks over to me but I’ve already retrieved the basket and toss it to her from over the crates.  While Applejack tends to the customer, I put the lids back on the crates and shunt them out of the way, pleased to find the empty ones are relatively easy to move aside.         I turn back to find Applejack depositing some gold coins into a tin box which she closes before turning back to me and raising an eyebrow.  Oh right, her friend the unicorn. “Uh, sure if you don’t mind asking on my behalf next time you see them?” It couldn’t hurt, could it?  Besides... if this becomes permanent, maybe there’s some sort of magic that would really help out and improve productivity? I’m sure Applejack would like that.         “Right, I’ll put in a good word for ya then, John.  Anyway... I thought I should explain to you the pricing of the apples and our deals so that ya can serve customers too...” she trails off.  I sit down on my haunches and prepare myself to start taking mental notes. > Salesponies and Apples > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- My Little Pony: Finding Faith Chapter 6 “Salesponies and Apples”         I wave to the tan pony as he trots off, basket levitating at his side filled with various kinds of apples, their skins giving off a healthy shine.  Carefully taking the coins, the “bits” which seem to be made of gold, silver and copper, I deposit them into the safe box before closing it under the watchful eye of Applejack.  I get this feeling that someone’s tried to rob her before so now she just hawk eyes the thing out of habit and experience.         “Well I have to say John, ya been a real good help today.” she says with a smile to me, lifting her stetson from her head and revealing her tidy, blonde mane beneath.         She places the hat down on a crate and proceeds to gently scratch the top of her head with her hoof while I turn back to watch the stock and tend any customers who might have shown up.  Luckily none have and I’m able to organise a few of the apples that had slipped into the wrong portions of the counter.         “So, Applejack.  That orchard out past the park and the lake... that’s part of the Apple family farm is it?” I ask conversationally.         “Sure is, sugarcube, been in the family since granny was as young as ah’m.  Our family and those who travelled with ‘em founded Ponyville together, without ‘em there wouldn’t have been trade here and no trade meant no need for anypony to stick around.” she says, it’s kind of interesting to hear actually, so her family have deep roots here then.  I wonder if me having snuck onto her property the night before is something she might not like... I decide to keep that to myself and also to remember not to any apples that I haven’t paid for.         “So, ya ain’t from round here John, where’d ya come from?” Oh boy... where did I come from? “Don’t seem like a namby pamby Canterlot pony either, so... Manehatten?” The name... it... it rings a bell.  It’s so familiar!  Yet so darn, foreign. “Nah, I just figured out where ah know the accent from, Oatrstralians all got that accent don’t they?”         Again... the word, Oatstralian, is so darned familiar. Why... why is it like I know the word but don’t? I feel a hoof lightly knock my shoulder and turn my head to see Applejack looking at me directly, “Ya okay, sugarcube?”         “Oh uh, yeah I’m fine thanks Applejack.  Just... uhh, well the truth is...” I start and feel a lump in my throat.  She’s been pretty good to me, and I feel like even a white lie wouldn’t be a good way to repay her, “Honestly... I don’t remember, I think I had an accident and most of my memory is gone.  Weird amnesia.”         “Ah see... is that why ya can’t do magic?” she asks, lifting her stetson back to its original position on her head.         “Yeah, I suppose.  I mean I try and remember things and its like they’re there but they just won’t... come out sort of.  But when I think about magic it’s like I know nothing about it.  Funny, heh, being a unicorn who doesn’t know diddly squat about magic right?” I respond as I stack baskets under the counter for customers. .”Ain’t no shame in that, sugarcube.  Just means things are different for ya, is all.” she says reassuringly.  I feel better having told her the truth, and since she doesn’t find it weird enough to bug me about it then it must be fine. The baskets all neatly stacked, I turn back to Applejack who’s counting the bits in the safe box.  I quickly learned that five silver bits are equal to a gold bit and ten copper are worth a silver bit and since she  sells apples, regardless of their species at five copper bits apiece.  She’s got a fair amount of money coming in.  Apples, it turns out, are very popular amongst the Ponyville residents and we’ve served about... thirty or so ponies.  It’s still a little hard to assign each visual appearance with an acquaintance in my head, there’s so many different palettes that you’d think it would be easy.         “Ah’m a be right back sugarcube, need to... uh tend to something.” Applejack says bringing me out of my thoughts. I nod and give her a grin before stepping up behind the counter taking her position.  I listen to her hooves clopping on stone as she heads off someplace, I assume to relieve herself.         Busying myself with glancing around at the other stalls I see that many of the other ponies are selling various bits and pieces such as a stall selling flowers, the pony behind it has a rose-red mane and tail and cream coat.  I can just make out a rose on her flank and it appears the stock she has in abundance is, roses.  Thought she sells quite a few other flowers and by the look of it seeds for those species too.         Across from the florist is a stall that sells nothing but wooden figures, the sign set up at the stall claims that they are all one hundred percent hoof made.  I’d wager that’s an impressive feat considering how even with our hooves unique ability to magically grip something, and their dexterity that it would be hard to properly angle the blade in order to carve the right amount of timber off.         As I ponder the difficulty of carving something with a knife and two hooves, I lapse into a state of unawareness, which is why when a hoof taps the counter, I jump in fright.         “Yoohoo?” I turn to face the culprit, “I was just asking, are you new?” she’s covered from head to hoof in aquamarine coat, her mane a slightly lighter shade with white streaked through it, the palette reminds me of toothpaste for some reason, the minty kind.  I notice her head is tilted slightly to one side in a questioning manner and that her eyes are a brilliant amber, almost gold.         “Uh, yeah... yeah I am!  I’m John.  Can I help you?” I ask, remembering that I’m meant to be running a stall at a market.         Her head tilts back to its normal angle and she glances around at all the apples, “Yeah, Bon Bon needs a few apples for her new batch of candies... I’m Lyra, Lyra Heartstrings by the way.” she says, inspecting some Granny Smith apples.         “If they make lollies, then you’d be better off going with the Red Delicious, they’re sweeter and less acidic.” I tell the mare, she’s a bit older than me, maybe several years or so.         She stops browsing to look up at me, eyebrows raised, “Lollies?” she inquires.         I feel my cheeks growing hot, I don’t know why I’d be embarrassed by that... but I am, “Uh yeah, it’s what we call candy where I’m from.” I clear my throat nervously before continuing, “Like I was saying, the Red Delicious apples are your best bet for sweet stuff.  Unless you’re like me and like things to have that acidic tang to it.”         I can see a small smile showing as she leans towards the red apples.  I watch in fascination as her horn glows the same colour as her eyes and one of the apples lifts from the counter the same glow surrounding it.  She inspects the apple for a moment before placing it back down onto the counter where she found it. “See, this is why she should give me clear cut instructions, what if I get her the wrong kind?” she says, then looks up at me.         “Well... I don’t want to sound like I’m trying to sell off these apples, it is my job but... well if you’re worried why not take back a few different kinds of apple?  I’m sure a mixture wouldn’t hurt, variety is always good, right?” I raise a hoof gesturing at nothing in particular.         She giggles in response before asking for a basket, which I quickly oblige her, grabbing it from under the counter using my foreleg to hook it and lift it up over the counter.  She levitates it free of my appendage and gives me a curious look before proceeding to levitate several apples into the basket, I began to make a mental note of how much she owes as she does this.         “You know, somebody might think you’re new to magic, staring at me like that and not using it to get the basket and all.” she says suggestively, though suggesting what I’m not sure. Wait... she said somebody does... does she know me?         My heart begins to race and I feel my chest growing tight, anticipation and nervousness begin to fight for control of my senses while my brain seems to blow a fuse.         “Somebody?” I ask at last, she’s already finished filling the basket but seems to have taken a liking to observing my face.         “Yeah, somebody.  Somepony is such a specialised way of saying it, I prefer the generalised term.” I nearly sigh in relief and also a bit of disappointment, so she doesn’t know me.         “Good point, I’m just used to saying it that’s all, somebody that is... a lot of the ponies round here find it weird that I speak like that.  But hey?  I’ve got an odd accent so I don’t see why that would be such a problem.”         She gives me a smile then lifts the basket, “All done, how much do I owe you?” I quickly inform her of the cost, she fishes around in a bag strapped to her side, a saddlebag I suppose, and procures a bag of bits which she counts out to me before returning the remaining money to the bag.         “You’re cute, John.  We should hang out sometime and get to know each other, or you could drop by Bon Bon’s store later today to check in on her lollies that you’ve likely just influenced.” she says with a smile.         “Uh, sure, I guess I can drop by after I finish up here.” I respond thoughtfully, it wouldn’t hurt to explore a bit and meet some of the locals.         “Anyway I better go or Bon Bon might use me as an ingredient, hah.  See ya later John!” she says before turning to face the rest of the market.         I lean over the counter and wave to her, “Yeah I’ll drop by afterwards, thanks Lyra!” I call to her as she trots away, it then dawns on me that I have no idea what store she means... though from what I’d seen most of the stores had obvious signs out the front, surely a confectionary store would be easy to locate, it shouldn’t be too far from the market at the very least.         Just as I finish that thought I turn to see Applejack has returned, “Oh hey Applejack, all good now?” I ask the Earth Pony who nods with a grin.         “Sure am, John!  Thanks for holdin’ the fort, hope nopony was a bother while ah was gone, I know some of the ponies round here like to poke fun at the new folk.” she says, coming up beside me and opening the safe box.         “Nah, it was pretty lax, nopony gave me a hard time at all.  I met a mare, Lyra, though.  She seems really nice and she needed a hoof...” I trail off momentarily, realising I’m starting to speak like the others around here, atleast word-wise, my accent hasn’t changed any thankfully.  I quickly pick up where I left off so Applejack doesn’t worry, “She needed a hoof picking the right apples for some candy that she was helping to make at Bon Bon’s store.”         “Those two are quirkier than Princess Luna herself, pardon the relation... I don’t mean to sully the princess at all.” she says, looking up at me with an apologetic smile.         “At anyrate, ah’m amazed those two have been friends for so long if only because Bon Bon can be mighty callous and Lyra a touch sensitive, especially about her hobby.”         I raise an eyebrow, which Applejack takes stock of before continuing to fill me in, “See, she’s fascinated with these mythological creatures. Sits like them sometimes, tries to replicate their culture and just fantasizes about them.  Only time ah’ve seen that girl not babblin’ about her hobby is when she’s playing that harp of hers, or helping Bon Bon at the store.”         “Don’t let that stop ya from gettin’ to know the mare though! She’s got a sensible head screwed on and a gift for that harp of hers.” She turns and gives me a coy look, “Though, honestly?  I think she’s a bit old for ya now John.”         I sputter in alarm and backpedal several steps, “Bah! Wha!? No no no! I’m just interested in making new friends is all! Hahaha, I’m not...” I stop when I realise she’s laughing, “Oh har har, very funny Applejack, really, you should be a comedian not a farmer.”         She’s laughing so hard I can see tears forming in her eyes and I give her a grumpy pout before pushing her with a hoof, I get the feeling she’s tougher than she looks and when she barely budges from the push, I realise just how sturdy she is.  Note to self, Earth Ponies are physically stronger than they appear.         After a few minutes of her laughter sputtering on, she manages to wipe her tears away and her muzzle a bit with a foreleg before apologising for her outburst.  I smile, “Harmless fun never hurt anypony I guess, just... you’re too good at the stoic thing, okay?”         She chuckles before nodding. “Well, haha, ah guess that’s it for the day, things are quiet from here on out. Big Mac will be by soon to help with the packin’ so if ya’d like ya can call it in, yeah?”         “Oh sure, I guess I can head on over to the store then, thanks Applejack.  It was interesting working here to say the least.  Will you need a hoof tomorrow?” I ask.         “Ah certainly could do with a helping hoof if ya don’t mind.  Same time tomorrow?” she asks, having turned back to the lock box and digging through it with a hoof.         “Sure thing Applejack, it feels good to help others out and the labour really is good excersice.  Who knows? Maybe I can learn how to use magic sometime soon and you’ll get to take time off!” She turns and winks at me which makes me grin sheepishly.         “Well it’d be mighty useful.  Here, twenty bits for the days work.” she holds a hoof up, a bag sitting atop it.  I reach out take the bag, realising that its tied off with a really long string.  I stare at it for a moment before carefully looping one side over my neck and back around, where I hold it with a hoof and tie it off with my mouth.  As it knots, I look up with a smile of appreciation to the farmer.         “Thanks Applejack, I’ll see you tomorrow then.  Enjoy the rest of your day and take it easy if you can.” I say before navigating my way around the boxes and around to the front of the stall.         “No problem John!  And take an apple with ya, we forgot lunch what with all the excitement!” she says, tossing a Golden Delicious to me, the yellow apple sails through the air and I instinctively reach up, rearing on my hind legs to capture it between my hooves, forelegs stretched.  I let go with one hoof and fall back onto all three before taking a hearty bite out of the pale yellow apple.         I swallow what I have in my mouth and grin, “Thanks, it’s delicious!” I call to her before turning to take my leave of the market.         “Ah should hope so! It is a Golden Delicious, after all!” I hear the orange mare call out from behind her stall with a laugh, having caught onto my subtle joke.         Instead of hanging around the market, as I had originally intended to do, I decide to make my way out of the bustle of the many stalls and find a particular store.  Bon Bon’s store to be precise, and rather than dash my pride at being able to navigate the town myself, I take it upon myself to discover the locale all on my own.  I peer around at the many buildings and quickly spot the ones I am after, various signs hang from chains on timber poles above the doorsteps, and I spot one that stands out to me.  Three sweets wrapped up.         I swallow my indecision before it can get a grip anywhere in my mind and proceed to step right up to the door and push it open with a hoof before passing the threshold.  There’s a homely tinkle as a bell chimes overhead and I feel my jaw going slack.  The interior is absolutely filled with every kind of lolly imaginable! Lolly pops, boiled sweets, even those little chocolate coated licorice things that I have a gut feeling I dislike.  You name it and it’s probably sitting in here somewhere.         And that’s when my eyes meet a familiar set of amber eyes belonging to a certain aquamarine unicorn mare.  She grins and trots out from behind the counter.         “Hey John, glad you dropped by after all.  Wanna come see what Bonnie is doing?” she asks me, standing a few foreleg lengths away.         “Bonnie?” I ask, inquiring about the pet name as opposed to the fact I might be allowed behind the counter of an actual store.         She giggles and nods, “Yeah, just don’t say it around her, or she might... blow her top. I should probably leave it at that.” she winks then turns face before trotting back to the counter, lifting the divider with her magic before beckoning me to follow along after her.         I catch up and duck under the divider before following Lyra out through a door in the back wall. Well... this will be interesting... > Past Demons > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- My Little Pony: Finding Faith Chapter 7 “Past Demons”         Bon Bon is... interesting to say the least.  She seems to run hot and cold in terms of temperament and how she will react to a given situation.  She very nearly ran me out of the back of her shop, if not for Lyra putting herself between us. After that little spat, she visibly paid me very little attention, though I got the feeling she was watching me from the corners of her eyes.         At least I got to watch as she boiled the ingredients that needed boiling and what not, and prepare the rest.  In the end she had decided to use all the apples to get a mixed flavour, which I didn’t disagree with.  Though I have a feeling that had I disagreed, she just might have stuck that spatula someplace I’d rather not dwell upon.         Her beige coat seems both to go and not go with her blue and pink mane or tail, but I’m not one to be able to judge that considering how utterly unoriginal my own is - white and black, or at least so dark brown that my mane appears black.         That sets me off in a rather... odd direction of thought.  I kind of wish that like many of the ponies here, I had an extra colour, a highlight like Lyra’s white streak or Bon Bon’s pink, it would add so much character to my incredibly bland appearance.  I shake my head clear of the thought when I hear Lyra asking a question.         “Uh... sorry what was that?  I was kinda zoned out for a sec there.” I say honestly, no point in pretending I wasn’t anyway.         “I said, Bon Bon is nearly done, do you want to taste one?” Lyra asks, though I’m not sure if she’s asking for Bon Bon or asking because she doesn’t care if Bon Bon wants to share or not.  Part of me wonders if Applejack was right and Bon Bon is just this rude and mean pony that Lyra hangs around for no particularly obvious reason.         “Oh uh, sure.  That was quick,” I say, turning to see what is happening in the back room.  Bon Bon’s bent over some sort of boiling pot, poking the contents with a metal instrument.         Lyra bounces beside me and calls out, “How’re they Bon Bon? I’m sure they’ll be brilliant as usual!” she’s brimming with confidence in her friend’s skill, well if it's their talent I guess one would be rather willing to trust that you can do it right.         I trail off into my thoughts again, wondering if I could possibly earn my cutie mark here?  What is my talent? My special gift that makes me unique?  I mean I’m already unique, a magicless alien in the guise of a pony is pretty unique I’d say.         I focus enough on the conversation to pick out Bon Bon’s less than impressed tone, “-Won’t be ready for another thirty minutes!”         Well thirty minutes?  I guess I can find something to while that time away, “Say Lyra, since Bon Bon is busy out there, why don’t you do me a favour?” I begin.         She turns to look at me, “A favour?  What kind?” her ears are turned directly to me, it occurs to me that I can joke “I see you’re all ears.” but manage to hold that thought, tying it down inside my mind and instead reply, “See, since you’re a unicorn and you’re pretty good at levitation, I was wondering if you could give me a few pointers on how to do it myself.”         That curious look turns to one of mild concern until her eyes widen in realisation. “Oh... ohhhhh, I... I was just kidding earlier you know!” I begin to laugh and wave her off with a hoof. “Well I’m not joking around, I’ve never done magic before in my life!  I’d appreciate any help I can get you know.”         She lifts a hoof to her jaw and rubs it idly in thought for a few moments, likely contemplating what to say in response, or even how to instruct me at all.  I hope she considers it seriously, I’d really like to not be at a disadvantage after all.         “Well...” She begins thoughtfully before glancing around the store, “I suppose we could, I mean... there’s plenty of space here to try.”         I let out a boyish cry of joy and stop, right foreleg raised halfway between the ground and my head.  Did... I... make that noise?  I look down slowly, past the raised leg to my chest. That came from me? I feel a little dizzy, something doesn’t... fit, like putting gloves on the wrong...         Shaking my head I stop thinking, I just will it to stop and stand there stock still completely cut off from stimuli I hide inside my own head.  What the heck is going on with me?  Something flits by, a memory... something important.  I reach out for it, but its a slippery little fish in a strong current and I quickly lose my grip on it, a wave of despair washes over me and I fall back into the recesses of my mind, lost within myself.         I can see... aquamarine, concerned amber eyes peering at me... Lyra, Lyra is there, whatever the memory is, I can mope later, magic now, mope after. I find myself putting on a grin, false as it may be I try and portray the emotion associated with it.         “Are you okay?” the unicorn mare asks me, her tone that of concern.  She’s looking me up and down now, but I continue to grin.         “I’m fine, just uh, got overexcited is all.  Come on let’s get this show on the road!” I say, forcing myself to sound the opposite of how I really feel.  I just missed something vital to uncovering who I am, what I am... I want to scream in anger and despair but I have to be strong, I need to do the task at hand.         Lyra puts on a smile, it’s as false as my grin and tone, “Okay... if you say so John. Well...” she pauses and puts a hoof to my chest before continuing, “There’s a well inside you, filled with energy, magical essence, all ponies have it I guess, but us unicorns can tap into it and use it outside of the natural order... at least that’s what they said at magic school.  Anyway, you... uh, okay your little bag around your neck?”         I lower my gaze to the small pouch of bits tied around my neck, “Yeah?” I ask uncertainly.         “Just focus on it, but not too hard, observe it and get a feel for it understand what it is.” she says something else but I miss it as I find my focus slipping, staring at the pouch.  It’s tan, and the pattern reminds me of burlap, but it’s nowhere near as rough and it’s definitely not leather.  I remember the weight of it in my hoof and feel the weight of it dangling around my neck now.  The tied off section reminds me of something... a dumpling, some food from where I’m from.  Lyra’s voice cuts back in at this point, distracting me slightly.         “And you just kind of... picture it moving, and focus on it.  You should feel-” I lose track of her voice again, the pouch consuming my concentration.  The pouch is everything right now, I don’t just see it there... I can feel it.         I become acutely aware of something else, something inside me that I hadn’t been aware of until now.  Like... a pot of honey boiling on the stove, the thick sticky substance being carbonised.  I... this sounds absurd but I pull at the sensation and clutch at it.  Eyes still glued to the pouch I feel something else, though this is external.         Focusing on the pouch I will it ever so gently to lift closer, so I can observe it at a better angle.  What surprises me is that it suddenly becomes shrouded in a red amorphous glow before ever so gently rising and twisting to its side.         I stare at the pouch for several moments, partially in shock that it actually moved when I willed it to.  I then consider it turning to the other side, and it quickly does so.  I feel weird, like I can feel the contours, the shape of the pouch in a grip I’m not accustomed to, trying to better understand it, I explore this new sense and watch as the red glow intensifies around the neck of the pouch and I focus on untying the clumsy knot I’d made with my mouth.  The string effortlessly pulls away and I watch, a genuine grin growing as I levitate the pouch a little higher, the neck opening wide to reveal the money inside.         “Magic!  I’m doing magic!” I finally say, like it’s the most absolutely amazing thing to ever have happened to me in my eighteen and a half years of existence.         I freeze, the pouch drops to the ground as the magical grip explodes under the force of my shock. Agonisingly slow, the pouch hits the ground with a heavy thud, several coins spill out and rattle on the floorboards beneath our hooves.         I hear a faint voice, “John?” but I lose it to a torrent of confusion. My age... it came to me without me even trying to remember it, like a natural reflex. “John.” Eighteen... sounds significant, a special number? Maybe a special age?  I feel... proud of being eighteen, why?  What’s special about it?  I can remember the number, I’ve lived that many years, but still it doesn’t tell me who I am.  Who I was.         “John!” My ears are filled with ringing but the shout cuts through it like a knife and I look up through blurry vision the edges warped so badly that I begin to feel a bit sick. Through the blur I see a blob of minty aquamarine and gold. Who’s this? What’s this? Where... Where am I?  I feel so turned around... why... why am I on all fours? Another blob, this one beige and blue, wanders into my distorted view.         This all feels wrong so horribly perverse.  I lift up, struggling to align my spine vertically, perpendicular to the ground.  But it feels wrong to be up like this too, it hurts my hip joints and I grunt in pain.  My balance is feeble... almost like my center of gravity is off... wait it’s off, why? I flail my limbs to try and maintain balance but even those feel wrong... the joints are reversed and... fingers? Where are my fingers!?  I try and take a step, throwing my head around and trying to make sense of the unfocused world around me.  I fail to maintain my balance however and I let out a cry of shock when all of my balance is thrown out from underneath me and I begin falling backwards.         “John!?” the voice again... wait who?  It’s... I know... that... I...         “Lyra!?” I cry out, but I don’t get a chance to hear the response, if any is forthcoming as I feel a sharp pain in the back of my skull and everything goes black. * * *         I find myself in a strange yet familiar hallway, the walls are painted white as is the ceiling, but beneath my white hooves is a plush green carpet.  I feel like I know this place, or rather should know this place.  Maybe I’ve been here before?         I set a slow pace, my hooves pressing into the carpet, the familiar clip clop of hooves on hard surfaces is vacant thanks to the cushioning effect the carpet has on them.  As I move further down the hall I see a doorway to the left and make my way over to it, the door is slightly ajar and I press at it with my left hoof, it swings open unyielding and I peer into the darkness of the room beyond.         The gloom gently yields to the light from the hallway and I can make out a bed in the corner, it’s far too large for a pony, that much I can deduce instantly, the rest of the room is rather sparse except for a rug in the center and a chest of drawers opposite the bed, again... proportions are all wrong for a pony, like they were built for something twice as large as I am.         Stepping past the doorway, I find myself glancing around nervously, it all feels so familiar, I should know this!  The bed is covered with a doona, the cover proudly displaying hunks of metal... race cars, that’s it, racing cars.  The shades of blue and red in the room indicate that the owner is male, I don’t know how I deduce that but I just arrive at that conclusion with ease, it seems sensible and right.         Suddenly I sniff, there’s a sharp odor in the air... acrid... smoke!  But smoke... I turn around to the doorway and balk at the sight of thick plumes of black, acrid smoke dancing down the hallway.         “Back!” I hear someone shout from down the hallway, their voice desperate. I trot out of the room, my head just below the layer of smoke above as my ears swivel towards the voice’s origin.         “Come on honey! Get back!” I hear the voice again and pick up my pace down the hall, it seems to go on forever.         “I-I can’t!” another answers from the same place, a she, the voice is feminine and scared. The voices... I know them, I know them from somewhere...         There’s a loud crash and a shrill scream, I suddenly find words in my throat and cry out, “I’M COMING MOTHER!” my lungs ache... so much smoke, when did it start to sink?         I find a door finally, the end of the hallway, smoke doesn’t matter, gotta open the door.  I look at it, the knob is bright red, I can see heat waves around it.  Can’t touch that... instead I turn instinctively and coil the muscles in my hind legs before bucking the door as hard as I can.  There’s a crash of splintering wood and debris scattering and I turn to see my handiwork.  A hole in the lower half of the door permits me a view of the room.         Something... is standing across the other side of the room, a tall creature, easily twice my height.  I can see a small mop of a mane on its scalp, but it’s mostly covered in clothes. The bipedal creature turns, face lit by the sharp lights of the fires all around it, I can make out a triangular nose, small oval eyes and pursed lips.  There’s no muzzle, the ears are in the wrong place, and they only have a light dusting of fur around their cheeks. It looks between the doorway I’m occupying and the corner of the room. Suddenly it locks eyes with me and I see desperation in those eyes, pleading.         “Son! Run!” I turn and begin to gallop as fast as my uncoordinated legs allow me, I gallop down this endless hallway as the paint boils and peels off the plaster, chunks of the ceiling crack and fall, the carpet behind me burning in deadly flames.         I trip over a chunk of burning timber from a wall support and tumbled several metres before coming to a stop, I manage to push myself up on a foreleg and look up to the door that now stands before me, it’s ajar and a dark figure in the night extends a hoof to me, I can see the orange light of the fire on the hoof, it’s familiar.         I reach out and lock grip with the hoof and am hauled through the doorway and to salvation, free of the inferno that is the hallway I had occupied.         The ground beneath me is rough, but I cough the smoke out of my lungs, heaving heavy breaths to get it all out.  I feel my throat and mouth are dry as a desert but still I find my voice, weak as it is and thank the stranger.         I get no response, looking up I find I’m alone, alone in the darkness all around me. I am completely alone and there’s not a soul in sight, not even an insect chirp to signify life.  I fold my forelegs beneath me, laying prone and peer around.  The feeling is overwhelming and I find tears are forming in my eyes, I sniff when the first drop runs down the side of my muzzle and I accept the truth. I am completely and utterly alone and not a thing is around to understand me.         Hopeless, it’s all hopeless anyway.  I lower my head before turning onto my side to curl up around myself, my tail laying draped over my face.  Alone. > Finding Truths > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- My Little Pony: Finding Faith Chapter 8 “Finding Truths”         “Here, drink this.” someone says.  I can’t see, everything is dark but I comply anyway, I have no choice... I don’t know what’s going on at all.  I keep feeling appendages that I’m not familiar with, and others that don’t seem to exist at all. And then there’s the pain in my face that spikes when I try to breath through my nose.         The cool touch of glass on my lips, a slight tingling sensation and then my head tilts back gently under the direction of another, I feel cool liquid flowing into my mouth and I swallow greedily.  The glass is removed from my mouth and I sigh as my head is allowed to return to its former position.         “John?  John, are you okay?” the voice asks, are they talking to me? Oh... yes I’m John.  That’s right... and I’m a unicorn pony.         I realise the reason I can’t see is because my eyes are clamped shut and also that all the ‘weird’ nerve signals my brain is receiving are because I’m in a quadrupedal body, that of a pony.  I feel myself adjust to this at the realisation and slowly open my eyes, my mane seems to have been brushed back because for once I can’t see it in my view.  I blink slowly, adjusting my eyes to the light, I’m in a quaint little building and I can smell sugar all around me. Sugar and blood.  The tangy smell is strong and I wonder who it belongs to.         “He’s awake, Lyra!  Where’s the medical kit?”  That same voice calls out from nearby.  I turn my head ever so slightly towards the source and groan when I my muzzle scrunches autonomously, sending a spike of pain rushing to my brain.         A beige coated pony moves into my view, pigment blue and pink mane curled atop her head. Bon Bon scolds “Hold still you silly colt!” before putting a gentle hoof to my foreleg. “You smacked your muzzle good on the counter when you blacked out.”         My ears twitch when I hear the sound of hooves returning from somewhere, Bon Bon turns her head towards the sound “Lyra, good!” Bon Bon says, the edgy tone softer than I remember it for.         “Okay Bonnie, just let me... ah! Got it!” Lyra says, accentuated by a popping noise probably indicating she’s opened something.         “Okay Lyra, help me by holding this menace to sanity down so I can check his muzzle.” Bon Bon instructs as she turns towards where Lyra has just appeared. Lyra strides over and effortlessly places her forehooves on me, keeping me steady while Bon Bon returns with some sterile cloth.  I wince when she applies the cloth to my muzzle and choke back a cry of protest.         Drawing away with the bloody cloth she looks down at her handiwork ( hoofiwork? ) and nods to herself before using her free hoof to gently press on my muzzle in various places, I wince when she brushes a spot that feels tender before she leans back and puts the same hoof to her chin and rubs thoughtfully, eyes directed elsewhere.         “Did he break it?” Lyra asks after a moment of silence, still holding me still.  Did I mention this minty mare is stronger than she looks?  But before Bon Bon can work up an answer to the question at hoof, I feel an itch higher up my nasal passage and open my mouth ever so slightly, trying hard not to scrunch my muzzle up in discomfort.         Oh no... not a sneeze, not now.  Naturally I don’t get a choice in the matter and I tilt my head back ever so slightly and sneeze violently, globules of blood and mucus fly in a scattershot right up into the air and rains back down on the three of us, coating us in the disgusting mixture of bodily fluids.  I blink several times, shocked that it happened before both females begin groaning in mixtures of disgust and mild surprise at the muck that now spatters them in various places.         Well the good news seems to be I didn’t break any bones, just rupture a blood vessel in my nasal passage, no biggy, bad news is my saviours, for lack of a better term, are now coated in my vital fluid and disgusting mucus that had been residing deep inside my nostrils.  I feel a pang of sympathy for them, they clearly work hard to keep up their body image and now their manes and coats are messed up by me.         “Uh...” I begin, “Sorry ‘bout that... couldn’t stop it.  Good news is I don’t think anything is badly damaged?” I finish lamely, like my well being is the center of the universe.         Lyra grins at this before looking over at Bon Bon, whom I notice is giving me a dirty glare.  Great, I pissed off the already grouchy sweets pony who could probably cut me up into tiny ribbons and use me as a part of her new confectionary line.         “I’m going to have a shower, Lyra put up the sign, it’s close time anyway.” Bon Bon says, before giving me one last glare and finally moving out to the back of the store.  I turn my head to look up at the mare who was holding me down before she grinned sheepishly and stepped away from me.  A few moments later I hear a click and then hoofsteps returning to me.  Again my ears seem to twitch in the direction the sounds originate, something I hadn’t noticed them doing since I first found myself here in Equestria with Scootaloo.         Lyra helps me up onto my hooves and offers me a tissue which I carefully blow my nose into before depositing it in a wastebasket behind the counter. “So... what happened?” Lyra asks before continuing, “You managed to levitate your bit pouch and then you kinda went a little crazy there for a bit.” She indicates to her head, rotating her foreleg in circles. I cast my thoughts back, yes I had levitated the bag but... that wasn’t what had caused all this... what was it... I struggle to remember the important detail, some thought had set me off and I wanted to know what it was.  I can feel a sense of excitement, remembering my moment of triumph with magic but I hold it back, there’s more important things to be concerned about.         Lyra levitates what appears to be a medical kit over towards us, using her magic to carefully close and seal the sterile case while she waits for my response.  My tongue feels thick in my mouth and my jaw refuses to cooperate and allow words to flow forth from its confines.  I stop and think hard before finally getting the words I want out, “I... I remembered something.”         The kit lowers to the counter with a gentle clunk while Lyra looks at me inquisitively.  I take a deep breath and recount everything since the moment I found myself hanging from the branch in the tree.  Try as I might though, I can’t shrug the feeling that something happened while I was out cold, something important to who I was before all this and I convey that to Lyra.         “So you remembered how old you were and it kind of sent you off on a trip through crazy land huh?” she finally says.  I instantly recoil, my head snapping back and ears laying flat as I realise how crazy it all sounds until she raises a hoof and presses it gently to my chest, “Hey now, I’m not saying you’re crazy, just that it triggered some episode in your mind. I’m glad it wasn’t magic that made you go a bit crazy, just a memory... but that means you’re basically a big episode waiting to happen.”         I nod slowly, leaning forward again, my ears returning to their standard position orientated towards the source of conversation, “Where I come from I think we’d say that I'm a minefield and some poor soul is walking through it and hoping not to be sent to the everafter.”         She gives me a curious look and I roll my eyes, naturally I’d think of something to say that goes clean over the head of the other participants. I consider explaining what a minefield is until I remember that I can’t remember what a field of mines actually is, just that it is something that hurts or kills others.  Wow... how awful.         “Uh, well yeah, anyway... I guess I am just an apple short of a bushel, right?” I end up responding with a nervous chuckle.  Lyra rolls her eyes and prods me a little roughly, “You are not crazy, crazy pony, sheesh!”         Wait... what!?  Double negatives?  Okay I cannot let this slide.  “So... I am crazy?” I ask cheekily, giving her my best “I am curious” look.  The effect is delightful, she frowns before giving me a gentle knock on the shoulder with a hoof and a glare.         “Sorry! I couldn’t help it.  Besides we were getting a bit somber.  Hey... why don’t you go check up on Bon Bon make sure she’s okay and I’ll clear my head out the front of the store for a few minutes?” I suggest to the older mare with an honest smile. She considers my proposal before nodding and giving me a comforting pat. “Okay John, but if you need anything just come back in.  Bon Bon is prickly but not a pony to turn away those who need help.” she turns and makes her way out of the store front, leaving me alone with my thoughts.  Not that I have many other than to go out the front and cool off. I carefully make my way back outside, leaving my bit pouch on the counter where it had been relocated, I trust the mares enough not to mess with it, after all, they gathered all my bits together and put them back in while I was unconscious, a sure sign of their honesty. The door bell tinkles as I push it open and step outside, carefully slumping against the window of the store displaying various confectionery for sale.  I feel exhausted and not just physically but mentally and also emotionally as well.  It’s been... what? Just over twenty four hours since I found myself here in Equestria? And already I’d started to fall in love with a local resident, tried cracking open her protective shell, found work with an honest farm mare and her brother, made several friends and had begun unravelling the mystery that is my brain. Why can’t anything be simple? “Mister, are ya okay?” I snap out of my thoughts and look up from my slumped position to find a yellow mare, roughly my age looking at me in concern.  The accent is familiar and it takes me a moment to piece it together and realise that it’s the same accent that Applejack carries.  She flicks a lock of red mane from her face and tilts her head quizzically, awaiting my answer. “Oh, uh yes I am okay, just needed a breather is all.  I’m John by the way.” I say, extending a hoof politely toward her. She takes it instinctively and gives it a hearty shake, leaving me with a slight muscle ache just above the shoulder.  Same hoof shake as Applejack, they must be related. “Oh ah’m Applebloom, mah sister, Applejack, has been talkin’ mighty high of you recently.” she says with a smile.  I return the facial expression but peer around her at another pony standing just beyond the threshold of the conversation, “And you are?” I inquire. The marble coated mare steps forward and I get a good look at her alongside Applebloom, she has a sense of style I’ll give her that. Her mane is trimmed and brushed, she looks smart yet rather pretty and gives off an air of practicality. “I’m Sweetie Belle...” she trails off, I believe she’s unsure of how to continue the conversation but I don’t get much of a chance to pick it up for her due to Applebloom pushing in. “Besides helpin’ mah sister round the market... ah’ve seen ya with an old friend of ours.” Applebloom starts and helps me up from my slump with a gentle tug.  I examine her expression to try and get a feel for the kind of situation I’m in before she continues. “And ah don’t mean to upset ya or tell ya how to live your life John, but that filly is usin’ ya to solidify her delusion.  Only pony who’s gonna get hurt by that is her and y’all, especially y’all seein’ how friendly a fella ya are.” I carefully step around the mare and give her an unimpressed glance before finding the words that need saying in my throat as they form in my head.  “I don’t know either of you from a bar of soap, but I do know Scootaloo a bit better than most, at least I think I do and frankly you’re concerns are unfounded, I am well aware that she is damaged and needs help.  Why else would I be doing everything in my feeble power to help her get better?” I stomp a hoof, feeling frustrated, “What I want to know is what happened to make her this way, why am I left to pick up the pieces of the orange pegasus?” That get’s their attention, a look of regret plays out over Sweetie Belle’s face while Applebloom gazes into my eyes.  I feel like she’s searching for something in them, but I dismiss it, I need these answers. Scootaloo needs these answers. Taking a measured step towards Applebloom, I press a hoof to her chest, “Why did I have to be the one to keep her from potentially drowning herself?” Both girls wince at that and I find their eyes suddenly locked on mine, I nod confirming the statement to their silent question.         “She... she wouldn’t have... would she?” Sweetie asks, “She was close to it.” I answer, turning to look at Applebloom who’s biting her lip, nervous or worried? I ignore the alarm bells in my head that keep warning me to back the hell off, I need these answers, like I need air to breath and the ground beneath my hooves to stand upon.         Finally Applebloom speaks up, breaking the nerve racking silence that had completely consumed us for a few minutes. “Ah got mah cutie mark... then Sweetie Belle got hers.  Scoots was so sure she’d get hers right after.” she pauses, I notice her eyes are glazed over as she remembers something that she had clearly been trying to forget. “But she didn’t... an’ she got right upset about it too.”         Sweetie Belle puts a comforting hoof to her friend’s side and picks up where the earth pony left off, “We tried to help her... we got ours when we weren’t trying but... she seemed to think we were trying to stop her from finding hers.  She started to accuse us that we weren’t trying hard enough to think of things to do.”         That... doesn’t sound like Scootaloo... not the one I know.  I realise my jaw is hanging slightly open, mild surprise etched into my features and I force my jaw back up, closing my mouth.  I had a feeling... anxiety can lead to paranoia and then the added stress of never being able to get her mark would lead to depression a very dangerous mix.  I’m no psychologist but that girl is a time bomb waiting for something bad to happen...         “Why? Why are cutie marks so darned important?” I decide to play up my own appearance a bit, “I don’t have one, never had and likely won’t ever have one either, I don’t care, a silly mark on my flank isn’t going to adversely affect my life, I’m good at whatever I try, that’s my talent. So why is it she so utterly believes her life is worth squat without one!?” I stamp a hoof feeling anger boiling up, familiar to the recesses of my suppressed mind.  I’ve been in this situation before...         Sweetie Belle shrinks back, using her earth pony friend as cover, “They don’t - aren’t - I mean-” she babbles, her voice getting high with panic.  I realise my mistake and take a deep breath and step back.  It’s hard, part of me wants to accuse them of not having done enough for Scootaloo as her friends, but I know the truth, they did everything they could think of and the demons in Scootaloo’s head had finally won out.         I look down at my hooves and say, my voice quiet, “I guess... I’ll just have to fix her since nopony else can. Thanks for the insight girls, I need-” I stop when I hear the sound of hooves pounding on stone and twist to look in the direction it’s originating from.  I catch a glimpse of orange and purple and feel my heart throb in panic.         No no no... “SCOOTALOO!?” I cry out, not even caring I might disturb somepony.  Without a moment’s thought I immediately abandon the storefront and the two mares as I gallop after the pegasus.  Caution to the wind I feel my muscles strain and ache after the work of the day and more importantly the fall I had just earlier.         “SCOOTALOO!?” I cry again, hoping desperately to call her back.  I catch sight of a purple tail turning down an alley and slide around the corner after it only to glimpse it yet again elluding me.  I put on a burst of speed and ignore my muscles screams for rest and slide around the corner, now I can see her and she’s galloping as fast as she can and for an athletic and fit pegasus, that’s pretty darn fast.         “WAIT!” I call at the top of my lungs, I’m short of breath now and I’m finding it hard to focus on anything other than forcing my limbs to motor at top speed.         I’m gaining on her, her pace is slowing and I’m drawing in closer towards her the distance closes rapidly as we draw nearer to the town hall. “Scootaloo!” I rasp, my breath short.         Two metres becomes one and a half, and then a single metre and then I can almost reach out and grip her tail in my mouth, but just as I reach out to do just that, she jumps up into the air and I’m blasted down by a gust of downward air. I hit my head hard on the stone street and grunt in surprise. I slide to a stop and groan, struggling to get back up just in time to see the pegasus turn and leave without a look at me, but it’s not her inability to even look at me that causes a lump to form in my throat... it’s the drop of liquid that splashes on the side of my muzzle.  I lick at it out of habit and immediately taste salt.         “Scootaloo...” I whisper to the air.