Babs Seed felt woozy as she pulled herself up from the cold, hard floor of the cave. The youth had to take a moment to gather her senses, let the wandering, drifting seasick rolling of her gut slow and calm. Closing her eyes tightly, Babs focused on a point in the darkness behind her eyelids and waited patiently for the traipsing movement to cease.
She realized her head hurt, a sensitive lump echoed fire through the back of her neck and up over the top of her head to terminate in tingling vines throughout her forehead that tickled and jittered like a swarm of bloated ticks. She quickly learned not to touch the standing knot at the base of her skull where her neck and head met.
Once the pain subsided and her eyes agreed to cooperate, she popped them open and took in the dank, wet cavern around her. The ground was stone, dotted with soluble, decaying soil. Here and there were tiny rivulets of running water coming from deeper in, several abyssal chambers too dark to see into surrounded her on all sides. Above her was a small hole, just large enough for a young filly to fall through. Weeds and grass did their best to obscure the orange daylight peeping down into the hole. Brittle roots of trees and other plants crisscrossed and hung like braids of dead mane, reaching down towards the child.
Babs had never heard of a sinkhole before, having never been a concern to the ponies who walked among concrete and cement, and therefore had no idea what she had fallen into. Much of her immediate memory was shattered into pieces so finely ground that how she had gotten here refused to recollect in her mind.
She placed a hoof to the rock floor and eased herself to a standing position, the rocking of her vision had nearly halted and only a slight, gentle sway remained. Her head burned at the back and she fought the urge to rub at the pulsating knot. Turning to look at the place she had woken up, even the dimness of the bowels of Equestria couldn’t hide the small pool of dark, red liquid.
Panicking, Babs reached back and squealed in pain as her clumsy hoof ground into the tumescent, heavy knot. Retrieving her hoof quickly, she brought it before her eyes, it was dry. Dirty, but dry. The wound was no longer bleeding and she sighed in relief despite the shockwaves of pain still eschewing from the back of her head.
“Keep it together,” the pungent scent of decay and fetid vegetation filled her nostrils and she nearly gagged from the mildewed, moldy odor. “You’ve crossed the Ninth street bridge alone at night before to see the roller derby games. This is nothing.” Babs assured herself. “Smells about the same too.”
“It’s just not a bridge. It’s… underground and wet. Probably doesn’t have nearly as many rats as Manehattan.” Idly she wondered what may lurk in the shadows just outside of her small radius of spindly light. The thought sent chills rippling through her small frame and she tucked her tail tightly between her legs and made herself as small as she could. She wanted out.
“Cuz? Any pony up there?” Babs waited impatiently before calling out once more. “Some pony?” once again there was no answer but the rickety scream of cicadas.
“Help!” Her words reverberated in the small space and danced down a dozen chasms connecting to the cavern in which she found herself. As her voice fell deeper into the labyrinth, it called back gravely. Each return of “help” was colder, darker, more whittled from her own heavy, confident voice. As they faded away into the earthen unknown, they were desperate and broken.
Fighting to control her thrumming heart and the sudden onset of rapid breathing, Babs strained to listen for the sounds of her friends or family. Her head felt like a popped zit and she found recollection of the events that led to her awakening in the hole fuzzy. She knew her cousin, Apple Bloom, had been with her at some point. There were others but their faces were blurred, water-stained oil paintings of fractured memory.
She called again and, again, came the refracted mimicries of her own voice. Distorted through time and distance, they rang back from a hundred hollow places. She hoped they wouldn’t drown out the distressed beckons of her searching family. If they knew she was missing.
The chill of the earth and stone began to seep into her and she worried the dampness of her coat may sap her body heat. Her heart pumped like an overworked engine as she began to look for a way out.
The hole above her was only a few meters away but it might as well be a thousand. The roots that dangled from the moist soil were too high to reach and looked brittle and ready to crumble. All around was the black of the void, maws of oblivion in half a dozen different directions that beckoned for her to explore, become lost, and succumb to the myriad of untimely, awful deaths that awaited beneath the crust of the planet. She was alone and afraid, though she resisted the admission.
“Stay here. Calm down, it’s fine. Some pony will come looking for you. Just think positive.” Babs knew better than to take her chances in the unknown around her. At least here she could see freedom, could hear if somepony was close. She found the dryest piece of ground she could within the circle of light and waited, eyes turned up to the gently wafting grass basking in the summer sun.
She watched the brilliant gold of midday turn to the orange of afternoon and, finally, the cobalt hues of night. Her earthen tomb was made smaller by the dying light. The oppressive darkness pressed in from all around and not the bellows of family nor friends found her, but the chirping of crickets and sounds of the forest night fell into the hole in their stead to comfort her.
It did a poor job.
Babs’ bravery crumbled over the hours. Finally, she began to sob. Her voice broke as she gasped in air, fear of remaining lost consuming her. Would she ever see her family again? See Manehattan again? Deep inside doubts ate away at her but she refused to lose hope. She may be scared but she wasn’t ready to throw in the towel. If no pony came to find her by evening tomorrow she may need to try and find an exit herself. But that meant wandering blind in the darkness of the tunnels.
Babs allowed herself to cry for a few minutes before gathering some of her broken courage. There was no use in crying, it could do no good. Princess Skullestia, her favorite roller derby player, wouldn’t cry. Babs had seen her get crushed against walls by big, bullying behemoths and pick herself up to body check the opposing players into smears many times. “One good slam deserves another,” that’s what Princess Skullestia always said. “Sure, I could cry. I could let the other mares roll all over me but that’s not how I am. I didn’t join the Manehattan Mayhem to get picked on. You take it, you give it back. That’s what makes a pony tough!”
A small grin appeared on Babs’ face and she sighed gently. “One good slam deserves another. I’ll be okay. I’m tough too, Skullestia.”
Babs had stopped hearing the trickling, tickling sounds of tiny streams over the last few hours but they rang in chorus as she realized how thirsty she had become. Her lips felt dry and she licked them with a parched tongue. She could see silvery flickers in the moonlit circle around the small plateau of stone upon which she had been awaiting rescue. Several shimmering streams of water ran to form a slight bowl in the earthen floor, gathering together and building long enough to pour over a tiny dam in the form of moss and pebbles.
Babs had never smelled water before but had heard tales of wilderness ponies letting their muzzles lead them to fresh, delicious ponds or rivers. Babs didn’t know much more than that about finding water and hadn’t believed it until this moment. She could, indeed, smell the life-giving fluid and it smelled celestial.
Moving slowly, Babs edged to the miniature pool and inspected it. It was about four inches deep and lined with moss at the bottom. It reminded her of the Manehattan public pool and how it had a liner in it to trap the water from returning to the earth. Along the edges of the surface was a slick, bulbous growth. Algae, she surmised. One year she had returned to school after summer break and the class fish tank was coated in a similar, funky growth. She touched it gingerly and the green mass dissolved. She didn’t quite trust it, but the water looked clear and she was desperate for a drink. She eased her lips to the water and slurped loudly.
“Whoa! Hey, you! Don’t drink that, it’s poison!” a crystalline voice called. Babs popped her head up in confusion and sprayed out the water she had taken into her mouth, retreating back a step. The voice had scared her but she was excited by the prospect of a savior.
“Who--who’re you?” Babs sputtered as the last of the liquid cleared her mouth, a slight film coating her tongue. Before her was a pale filly with bright blue mane like the pristine ocean surrounding some faraway island. The strange filly smiled gently in return, the darkness seemed to resist the glow of her bone-colored coat. Eyes like a clouded quartz cornucopia caught the light and funneled it seeming deep into her body.
“My mom calls me ‘Spook’ but my real name is Phasma Wraith. What’s yours?” Spook peered more than looked, unblinking eyes looking through Babs. Despite the glee of another pony finding her, there was something unsettling about Phasma.
“Babs. Babs Seed. I’m visiting some family in the area.”
“Oh, me too. Something like that at least,” Spook replied. I’ve never heard an accent like yours before. Where are you from?” Babs couldn’t help but notice the way the slightly older filly never moved her eyes. They were fixed like the that of a doll.
“Uh… Manehattan.”
‘Oh! Is that a big town? I haven’t heard of it.” Babs scrunched her face but Spook didn’t seem offended. How could anypony not have heard of Manehattan? Wasn’t it a famed destination to visit?
“Yeah, pretty big place. Tough place to live sometimes. I like to come out to my cousins’ farm near Ponyville for a week or two in the summer. It’s good to see them and to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city.”
“Ohhh, I've never been to a city. I bet it’s exciting.” Babs could hear real enthusiasm in Spook’s voice. She was interested in the filly but she was also very thirsty.
“Hey, not to be rude, but do you have anything to drink?”
“Oh! I’m sorry. I don’t have anything on me but I can show you to a place with clean water.” A small smile appeared on Spook’s face and she turned, beginning to step into the sightless cave.
Babs hurried to follow, tripping once on unseen stones and landing with a heavy thud as her body crashed to the floor. She grimaced as Phasma crooked her head to the side, ear twitching. “You okay, Babs?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Babs felt embarrassed and quickly changed the subject. “You do know the way out, right? You’re not trapped down here too are you?” Babs needed to ask since Spook failed to mention leading her to safety.
“I’ve spent a lot of time down here, Babs. More than you would believe,” Spook spoke slowly, an edge of shame or melancholy tinting the words. “I know a lot about this tomb.”
“Tomb?” Babs repeated and fell behind Spook, following as the filly slowly walked into the void ahead.
“Apt, isn’t it? What else would you call a place like this?” said Spook. Babs chuckled uncertainly at the reply, not really knowing how to respond.
The caves were even darker than Babs had imagined. They seemed to suck away any chance of light except for Phasma’s odd coat. The filly did indeed glow. It wasn’t as bright as a candle or even a firefly but a minor amount of light radiated in the fine hairs of her coat and repelled the darkness from swallowing the filly. Babs couldn’t make out her own hoof in front of her face and yet Spook stood out with a dim fluorescence. It was spectral, unnatural, and Babs began to dwell upon the reasoning of such an uncommon thing.
“Spook, you’re not, like, an evil ghost or something are you?” Babs felt embarrassed but the tomb of the earth was as likely a place to encounter a spirit as any other. The question drew a slight chuckle from the other pony.
“An evil ghost? Like the kind that jumps out and says ‘boo’?”
“Well, I meant more like the kind that lure young ponies to their deaths. Like, in a cave where they might fall into a pit or be lost forever or something?” Babs felt stupid asking the question but all the ghost stories she had ever heard could be applied to the current situation.
Spook said something under her breath, something Babs was confident wasn’t meant for her. She couldn’t quite make it out but it was some sort of dismissal.
“Would an evil ghost stop you from drinking from a pool that would make you sick?”
“I… I guess not. Why are you down here at night, Spook? It’s awfully late and I really didn’t expect to find another pony. Did my family organize a search or something?” Babs chewed at the lining of her lips.
“I don’t know about a search party, Babs. I’m sure your family is looking for you but I was in the tunnels and heard strange sounds.” Going eerily quiet for a moment, Spook’s glow seemed to wane. “Like I said, I’ve been down here more than I care to admit. I know when there are disturbances.” Spook left her reasoning to herself and Babs noticed the omission.
The pair walked in silence, Spook occasionally warning Babs of a gap, sharp stalagmites, or reassuring her of the odd skitter, chirp, or scratch from cave’s sightless denizens.. Babs took little comfort from her eerily glowing companion but had to trust her. What else could she do? She began to notice that Spook talked to herself silently. Only bits and pieces could be made out and none of it made enough sense to glean what she could be saying.
“D-do you think anypony has died down here? Lost in the dark?” Babs asked to kill time and immediately regretted forming the question aloud.
“I know at least one pony has,” Spook replied dryly. Babs paused, taking in the answer which brought more questions to mind. She thought better of asking them.
“I’m sure they have if you’ve been gone that long,” Spook said. Babs didn’t understand the context because she hadn’t said anything.
“What? I’ve been gone for hours,” Babs attempted to answer.
“Oh!” the luminescent pony sounded shocked at a reply. “Of course. Not that long, then.” She went silent, just the scraping of hooves and the occasional murmur that Babs couldn’t understand.
For a time unknown, Babs was led into the twisting, churning cave system. Time was difficult to grasp when there was no light, no moon, just the unparalleled, oppressive blackness surrounding her. Clicks and clacks of hooves rendered mistimed due to the uneven, cragged terrain were the closest thing to a timepiece other than her pumping heart. But even it obeyed a different pace, one betrayed by periodic panic and physical exertion. The only temporal certainty was that she had become lost instantly when taken away from her small circle of moonlight.
Spook turned her head back and forth strangely at times as if she were working a sore muscle or popping a crick lodged in the bones of her upper spine. It was odd, erratic, and frightening in a way that Babs couldn’t comprehend. The ghostly glow caught in Spook’s unblinking, unmoving eyes was little reassurance.
The cold of the wet caverns sucked away at Babs’ body heat and she found herself chilled before long. A constant splashing of running water, once soft but growing louder with each moment, told Babs they were following one of the many small streams. The smell of water filled her nostrils once more, much stronger than the little bowl had. Before long the scent was nearly all she could concentrate upon. She badly needed a drink but the refreshing scent was dulled by the musty odor of vegetation once more.
Before long, water filled not only her thoughts but all of her other working senses as well. Her hooves splashed in a few inches of fluid, her ears almost hurt by the constant trickling of more than one stream, and her nose filled with the luscious aquatic scent. She was only dimly aware that Phasma Wraith had stopped moving ahead of her.
“Babs, there’s a pond in front of us. Don’t drink from it because the water in it has settled and sat for far too long. There’s some kind of fungus or algae in it that makes it bad. This is where the poisoned water you tried to sip before comes from. I think there’s a river above us and some of it leaks through the ground and trickles down the stones to form a reservoir here.” Spook stood very still and the dull radiating glow echoed off of an oily black mirror beneath her.
“How much further to the drinkable water, Spook?” Babs asked, her voice as dry as her tongue.
“This room is large. I’m sure you can’t see it but you should be able to hear it.”
“Hear it? How do you hear how big a cave is? How can you hear a pond?” Babs was frustrated by the lack of a direct answer. Her thirst was palpable and scratching at the back of her throat.
“I know it’s hard, Babs, but try it. Listen to the sounds, feel them calling to you.”
“How is that going to help me find drinkab...,” Babs began.
“Trust me,” Spook cut her off.
Not understanding but having little choice, Babs closed her eyes; they did her little good anyway. Spook’s projection gave only enough visual aid to follow, not light a path.
Focusing on her ears, straining to hear over the rush of water, Babs felt claustrophobic. More so than when she could see the earthen prison around here. The roar of water pressed in, surrounded her on all sides and buried her. She began to breathe hard as doubts filled her mind.
You’ll never escape. This is the end, Babs. This is your grave!
Opening her eyes wide, there was nothing but the pitch of ultimate night. Her eyes were useless and she began to shiver in fear. Not even Spook’s unexplained glow welcomed the searching orbs and she knew, beyond doubt, that her guide was something supernatural; Spook was some sort of vengeful spirit finding revenge on those unlucky enough to be lost in her eternal prison!
Babs’ hooves skittered, one plunked into shallow, icy water and she recoiled, panting, wishing to flee but knowing there was no place to go in this sightless coffin... except into the depths of a gelid, poison pond or careening into an abyss of sharp rocks and piercing stone. Her hooves scratched against stones and clacked loudly as she began to untether and debate running sightlessly. Her breathing came rapid and hard as her heart cranked from adrenaline in her chest, hurting her from deep inside.
“Be calm, Babs. I won’t leave you,” Spook said. Babs jerked away but felt as if Spook had spoken from within her head. More convinced than ever, Babs skittered away a few feet until she bounced into a wall and leg sank deeply into a clutching, freezing draught of water. She wanted to flee as hot tears began to trickle down her cheeks.
What would Princess Skullestia think of you? Crying like this.
Babs bit her lip and wiped her eyes with one leg. She was horrified. She had been the entire time since she had woken up in the pit but she couldn’t let it control her, let it cause her to make mistakes that would result in another corpse down in this infernal hole. For all Babs knew, Spook had dragged her down into this place and had watched from the black bowels. She wouldn’t die without a fight! One good slam deserved another!
Babs snarled and stepped forward angrily, “You’re a ghost! You want to trap me here with you forever! I… I won’t die here, Spook! I’m sorry for what happened to you but I have a family; I have a life! I won’t die down here like you did!” Babs’ words rolled like a bowling ball around the cave walls and danced upon the surface of the pond like ripples.
Spook began to laugh from inside Babs’ head. “A ghost? Why are you so hung up on the supernatural, Babs?”
“Then why are you doing this to me? You said you would help me find a way out!” Babs accused, her voice turning up into a crescendo.
“You asked me how I knew the size of this cave we are in. How could I tell there was a pond.” Spook reigned in her laughter, knowing it wasn’t polite to find humor in a panicked pony. “Babs, THIS is my world. I’m not a ghost, I’m blind.”
‘Blind? Like, you can’t see?” Babs went still, the words sinking into her. Her temper cooled and she felt foolish, having let her doubts cloud her judgment.
“Yes. I was born like this, so my whole life has been what you are experiencing now.” Spook was no longer in Babs’ head but a few feet away, stifling a small laugh.
Babs didn’t know what to say. Her cheeks felt hot, embarrassment burning within them. She was glad she couldn’t see how red her cheeks were becoming. But… that was the point, wasn’t it? She didn’t need to see to know.
What else had Princess Skullestia said in that interview?
“I can just feel when someone is coming up behind me. I know when to buck because I can feel their skates on the derby paneling.” Of course Spook knew where she was. She was accustomed to life without sight whereas Babs was dependent. No wonder she seemed so otherworldly… Babs felt a little ashamed of herself.
“I’m sorry, Spook. I… “ Babs didn’t really know what to say but an apology felt appropriate.
“Don’t apologize. I hear it all the time from ponies. It’s not your fault and it’s not a problem for me. Especially in a place like this. I’m sure you’re thirsty. I can’t just show you where the drinkable water is, for obvious reasons, but I can help guide you to it. Close your eyes and listen. Open up all of your senses and feel the world around you.” Spook went very quiet.
Focusing mightily, Babs clenched her eyes and teeth, attempting to hear the stone walls, to feel the depth of the water. It didn’t make sense to her and the only sounds he could perceive were the constant, thundering water and ringing in her ears from how tightly her jaws were squeezed. Her body tensed in unison, the muscles of her neck and back tightening so drastically that her head began to hurt.
Sweat formed in taught droplets on the caramel-colored filly as she strained but nothing formed; she was still as helpless to her surroundings as before.
“You’re trying too hard, Babs. I can hear your teeth grinding and your breathing is constricted,” the blind pony explained. “Don’t force it, let your senses reach out naturally.” Spook said something under her breath, something Babs thought sounded like, “I know she can do it. Just keep quiet.”
Babs sighed with frustration and gasped in a few breaths of air. She hurt in several places from the intensity of her last attempt. Once the ache in her forehead disappeared, she shook her whole body like a dog, loosening the taught muscles. Once more she closed her eyes, letting them rest instead of slamming them shut. Her jaw hung though her mouth was closed.
“Search with your ears. Let the cave tell you it’s secrets. Feel the stone, it vibrates and whispers to you truths where your eyes lie. Don’t rely on what they can see because they can be deceived.”
Breathe in, Babs.
The chill air fillled Babs’ lungs through her nostrils and escaped through her mouth, lips parting just enough to allow calm, reposed ventilation. She began to tense once more but fought the urge, letting her body loosen. With each breath, she became calmer, more fluid to her surroundings and yet she still could not feel.
I can just feel when somepony is coming up behind me, Babs recalled Princess Skullestia’s words.
Her hooves tingled with the flow of the water.
I know when to attack because I can feel their skates on the derby floor.
All at once pieces of the puzzle fell into place. The roaring water no longer assaulted Babs’ ears but filled the room, giving her a mental image of the width and height of her surroundings. The steady vibrations of the running stream into the pond set minute tremors through her hooves, helping her feel the ground below her. Little by little, more information came to her and she could decipher the many different sounds that made up the cacophony around her.
Her mental sight of the cavern wasn’t perfect, it was a crude sketch if anything, far from the masterpiece she believed Spook could construct. But, it was more than her eyes could give in this dark place.
“There’s a wall beside you, Babs. Can you hear the trickle of water about head height coming from it?” Spook was calm and distant sounding despite her close proximity.
“I...I think so.” Many of the sounds clamored together but there was a sharp, bluish sound only a few feet from her right ear.
“The water coming from that wall is filtered through the earth above us and doesn’t stagnate like that in the pond. It’s good, clean water.”
Turning her head was somewhat disorienting, but Babs quickly corrected and melded with the vibrations around her one more. She took a couple steps, finding the stone floor uneven but navigating it better than before. The crystalline ring of the small stream called to her and she gingerly touched the wall with a hoof. A few moments of probing with her hooves brought a cold run of silvery water across them. Gently, she pressed her lips forward and brought a few sips of clean, delicious water into her mouth.
It was the best she had ever tasted. She drank slowly, allowing her mouth to build a swallow at a time until her thirst was slaked. It was, as Spook had said, free of the green flavor of vegetation.
“Good job, Babs,” Phasma congratulated.
“Thanks, Spook. I’m sure it’s not as impressive as what you do but… I really learned something, I think.” Babs felt pride deep inside of her, burning like an ember. Skullestia would be proud of her as well, Babs knew.
“Think you can find your way out alone?” Spook jested.
“Well, that’s probably out of my league, but I can probably move around easier.”
Spook chuckled to herself. “Give it a few years and you will be able to smell the algae in the water without even trying. Let’s get you home. We’re headed the right way to the Ponyville exit.”
“Thanks, Spook. I’m sorry I thought you were a ghost,” Babs apologized.
“That’s okay. At least you don’t see me as a cripple like so many others do,” Spook said sadly. “Come on, this way.”
Babs understood Spook’s strange eyes and her implacable means of navigation in the sightless depths. For a blind pony, the darkness underground was no more a hindrance than was the bright, sunny day topside. In fact, in a place like this, Spook was far more adept than Babs could ever be.
Spook’s inner light began to slowly take form once more, billowing like some sort of form-fitted dress. Babs wondered if she could control it, if she even knew she did it.
The pair climbed on a path around the pond, Spook leading and Babs following close behind. Finding it easier to traverse, Babs relied less upon Spook’s descriptions. She would still stumble or kick a loose rock occasionally, but it felt as if the very earth below was guiding her movements.
“You never did say why you were down here, Spook,” Babs said.
“Looking for something. I’m sure that sounds funny but there’s something important down here I’m trying to find.” Spook stated matter-of-factly.
“What is it?” Babs couldn’t. Help but ask.
“Something important, but not something I can really talk about. I’m sorry.” Spook dismissed the conversation and whispered under her breath once more. This time Babs was more in tune with her hearing and could just make out the words. “She doesn’t know. Just calm down. We’ll just show her the way out and I’ll get back to it.”
Babs could feel a coldness coming from Spook, like an errant arctic wind. Whether she had offended the ghostly filly, Babs couldn’t tell but she dropped the conversation.
It was nearly an hour of walking beneath the earth before beams of moonlight pierced the veil of obsidian. Finally, after traversing the depths of the caverns in total darkness, Babs could see natural light. The silver tendrils of the lunar body were like a blazing beacon to the filly and she had to fight the urge to sprint to them.
As they came closer the brightness grew until it was almost blinding to Babs’ light-starved eyes. The sound of forest insects, the sweet smell of summer, and the constant ruffling of her coat in the breeze were all welcome things she had once taken for granted. Babs stepped out of the mouth of the cave and squinted at the night-time lights of Ponyville glowing in the distance.
“I guess this is goodbye, Babs. I don’t come this way often and never during the day, so I doubt I’ll ever meet you again,” Spook said softly.
Babs turned and hugged the filly, she was as cold as the grave in Babs’ forelegs and seemed unaccustomed to the embrace of others. Gently, she patted Babs’ back awkwardly, uncertainly.
“Thanks, Spook. I… I hope whatever you are looking for you find. Thank you so much for saving me.” Babs hugged the filly tightly for a moment longer before releasing her and turning to gaze upon the lights of safety once more. The first blossoming of color on the horizon meant dawn was coming. Babs smiled to herself and took in the beautiful, above-ground world.
“One day, Babs. I’m sure I will,” Spook replied softly, seemingly distant despite Babs not hearing her movements.
Babs turned to thank the filly once more but she was gone. It was as if she had disappeared as easily as she had appeared earlier when Babs needed her. Pausing for a moment, Babs smiled softly. Closing her eyes, she probed with her senses in the vicinity and faintly, ever so faintly, felt something echoing from deep within the cave.
“Thanks again, Spook. I’ll never forget you.”
Babs turned, a tear falling from her cheek that she didn’t realize she had shed, and began the walk home.
Author's Note
Fun little story. Not especially proud of it. Had it in mind for a long time but finally put it to paper. There's not a lot more to it than what it is but that's okay. As Joe Bob Briggs would say, "Not a lot of plot to get in the way of it."
Thanks for reading. The ending is left open for interpretation. Was Spook a real pony or was her name really meant to be on the nose?
Hope you enjoyed it.
