When Jonathan Smith awoke one morning after a night of unsettling dreams, he found himself changed into what was surely among the strangest of creatures.
In his morning stupor, the first thing he noticed was that his arms were significantly stiffer and heavier than they used to be, even the worst of morning aches could not make them feel like this. Either way, he needed his glasses if he was to function, but just as he realised his vision was perfect he noticed that he no longer had fingers, but odd rounded ends that were strangely supple, despite being shaped like hooves.
"How about I just forget this travesty of a dream and go back to sleep," he thought, but then he realised his bed was not beneath him, nor was he even in his cramped bedroom. He was in a large field, with a settlement of some kind visible in the distance, basked in the rays of the rising sun. He tried getting up, but his legs no longer had the strength to support him, forcing him on all fours which he found remarkably comfortable in this state, as if it were meant to be so.
Still, the morning sun left him quite depressed. "How am I ever going to go to work today?" he thought. Ignoring the fact that he was probably late already, Jonathan did not think he could handle paperwork without digits on his limbs. He thought about how difficult it would be to even use his desk as he was, until finally he stopped thinking and decided it would be best to find some way out of this mess as quickly as possible.
Walking on all fours as he set off for the settlement in the distance proved to be a difficult task for him. Fighting his urge to stand on his two hind legs and suffer a fall, he allowed the comfort of quadrupedal motion to overcome him, slowly accepting that this was how he had to walk now, at least until he figured a way to resolve this disaster. Hopefully, the inhabitants would be able to cure whatever blight had made him like this, send him home and back to his comfortable routine of work, home and perhaps on special days the occasional ice-cream, whenever had had saved up enough for some.
Of course, much of his hopes were crushed when the first thing he noticed about the inhabitants was that they all appeared similar to himself, he found out just as he got close to the settlement. He thought again, perhaps they might be able to help him after all, but how they'd react was something he could not predict. With all the time he spent fretting over just what to do, he gave one of them time enough to notice and head towards him.
Jonathan had a few seconds to react, to either flee or stand his ground. As he was, he could not really make a decision of that magnitude, and all he could do was hope that someone would write him a good epitaph while he remained rooted where he was, still quite ensure what he should do. The thing bounding towards him was pink almost entirely, save for its blue eyes and a image of blue and yellow balloons on either side of its hind legs, and just as he was regretting never having tried skydiving before his end it stopped, and asked "Hi there! What's your name?"
Jonathan, trying to make sense of the situation, decided that even despite his disdain for advertisement mascots, he needed whatever help he could get. "I'm, ah, Jonathan Smith", he managed to speak. "But where am I?"
"Ponyville, silly! And my name's Pinkie Pie!" exclaimed the pink thing, while bounding around him. Jonathan wondered how he had come across such an amusement park in the middle of nowhere, and tried to explain that he would very much like to go home, but the pink thing was insistent on a party being the "best way to introduce you to Ponyville!" Jonathan tried to assert that he was uninterested in what it was marketing and that he would like a directory of some kind, but it was an exercise in futility.
He never really liked parties, but here there was nothing much Jonathan could do but follow Pinkie Pie as she handed out invitations and prepared, all the while exchanging strange looks with the other 'ponies', as he soon learned they were called. Though there were varying degrees of enthusiasm to being handed their invitations, the large majority of them were unified in their apprehension of him, as though he were lacking something despite being identical in appearance. Before he knew it, he was in the middle of booming party, quite unsure what to even do or how much he would be charged for it. But no, as he was assured, it was done entirely out of goodwill and he would not need to pay a cent.
"So, anyway, we're all here to celebrate our newcomer to Ponyville! Everyone, give it up for Jonathan!" announced Pinkie as she dragged him to the center of the room, with no regard for his bewilderment as many eyes fell upon him. Some of his surveyors were welcoming and cheered, but others were more reserved, scanning him thoroughly as if he were an exhibit to be critiqued. Just as Jonathan had quite enough of this and moved to back away, a viewer had the decency to exclaim "Where's his cutie mark?" which allowed the excruciating anxiety of the crowd to mature into, at least, murmurs. Johnathan had no idea what a cutie mark was, but at least he had some idea as to what exactly it was about him that aroused so much suspicion.
“Oh my gosh! That’s right, you don’t have a cutie mark!” cried Pinkie, after a few moments of examining his back sides. Only now did Jonathan notice that while every other creature here had some kind of branding upon their flanks, he alone had one absolutely spotless. He was no expert on culture of any sort, but he did wonder for a bit if it were akin to being a black Klansman, until yet another gracious onlooker called out “Maybe he just hasn’t found his special talent yet?” which seemed to satisfy the crowd that had been inching towards panic.
“In that case, why don’t you try out all sorts of things while you stay in Ponyville? Once you find somewhere to stay, we can work out where your special talent might be!” Pinkie’s anxiety quickly resolved itself as she spoke, whereupon she proceeded to bound around Jonathan, leaving him confused as ever but at least assured that he was not, after all, a Klansman whose negro identity had been uncovered. The general atmosphere of the party lightened up once more, and he was now beset by offers of work to discover exactly what his ‘special talent’ was, though he did not think his previous and possibly future affairs as a paper-pusher needed any particular talent. An innkeeper creature offered him board as well, which would be free for a week, after which his earnings from intern work would need to pay. Soon, his week’s schedule had been filled up with offers, though he was still quite disappointed that no one offered to revert him to a human and take him home.
The party itself ended on a fine note, with Pinkie bidding him farewell while a purple friend of hers gave him some guides to this particular locale, ‘Ponyville’, which upon inspection had him realise that it was not, after all, a theme park of any sort. The innkeeper lead him to his lodgings through town, while insisting that she had no idea what a telephone was - it would only occur to Jonathan then that a telephone would be quite difficult to manipulate without digits. Through quaintly idyllic architecture and roadwork, he eventually arrived at the “Daffodil House”, an inn following the idyllic architectural style that many of the buildings here displayed. Johnathan, mind filled only with thoughts of getting to his room and having some time to himself, paid it no mind other than a comment on how unique it was.
In truth, he was quite afraid about obtaining his ‘cutie mark’ once whatever his special talent would be was discovered, Johnathan thought as he collapsed to the floor of his room and let the day sink in, for he had both a fear of branding irons and needles - he always found cattle branding rather gruesome, and he had refused tattoos for this. Still, he needed to work if he ended up staying here longer than he wanted, and he needed that brand to stop the quite disconcerting stares. Once he was done letting his fatigue seep into the carpeting, he surveyed his surroundings - the room was of a good size, enough for a bed, desk, wardrobe and a few other pieces of furniture and ornaments here and there - all making his room quite cozy.
Among the furniture was a mirror, allowing Jonathan to take a good look at his new form for the first time. His hair and eyes no longer had the dark colours they used to be, his hair was now a light blue, his eyes bright yellow, and the rest of his body a shade of white, the only colour he could be comfortable with. His other features were quite similar to the male specimens he had seen earlier - sharper and more defined than what were apparently females in general.
"How ridiculous I shall look," he thought "If I were to be seen like this!" Even if the form he held now seemed to give him some strange sense of familiarity, it would simply not do if he wanted to go home and live as he was, nothing would be accommodating. It was very simple what he had to do, then - go along with the plans laid out for him, settle down in some way and hope there would be a way back, that was all there was to it. He wouldn't stay a second longer than necessary.
Satisfied, with surprising ease he got onto the bed, having only seconds to marvel in its comfort before he fell asleep.
The morning was a cool, refreshing sort, with the smallest strands of sunlight seeping through the window onto the bed where Jonathan lay. He turned a few times, marveling at how unusually soft his bed was, how restful the sleep he had was as opposed to the nights he spent tossing about about, either kept awake by his thoughts or his own bed. He had not had an interesting dream in a while either, in addition to the fantasies of himself as a candy man, he had a bizarre dream of turning up in a world entirely unfamiliar to him, filled with odd creatures that he had become one of.
He let himself mull over his thoughts for a while before opening his eyes to be greeted by an unfamiliar ceiling, in a room that wasn't his. Panic began to set in as Jonathan wondered how he would have to explain to the owner however he ended up here, before remembering the events of the day before and calming down somewhat. He thought of pinching himself to see if it wasn't all a delusion after all, wondering why he never tried it before, but a look at his own limbs explained a lot more than anything else could.
"Ah, Jonathan! Jonathan, was it? Would you open up?"
A voice called from the doorway leading to the corridor outside the room, followed by a few knocks on the door.
"Yes? What is it?"
"Breakfast, dear!"
"What? There appears to be some mistake, I never ordered breakfast and I have no means of paying for anything at the moment-"
"Don't worry, it's courtesy of the-"
"Please, madam, you must understand, it's very nice of you to offer this room, but I simply can't pay for anything mor-"
"No, no, you don't have to do any of that, it's all-"
"Now, I would like to repay you in some way, perhaps I could help out in your establishment, but providing business is something absolutely impossi-"
"As I said, it's all on the house! Do open up so you can have your breakfast, will you?"
Despite Jonathan's continued suspicion and insistence on this being a scheme he had gone through far too many times, he opened the door, allowing the innkeeper to greet him and push in a tray of food, perhaps the most delightful he had seen in longer than he could remember. She smiled at his delighted face, then left the room before he could return to his senses to insist once more that he could not accept her gift, even if it was without the strings he imagined attached. That left him safely alone in his room with the breakfast trolley left right in the middle, as if an altar awkwardly installed for the purpose of offering him the finest of treats. He examined breakfast closely again, making sure he was seeing what he was - cake, waffles, muffins - a wide variety of the confectioneries he rarely got to enjoy in his home.
Feeling his own hunger slowly manifest, Jonathan decided he would allow himself to indulge just once and began searching for a set of utensils. Only after a few minutes did he remember that he would have difficulty with using them and promptly gave up, wondering just how he would eat. While he found that it was possible for his oddly ductile hooves to somehow grip a cupcake and bring it to his mouth, he found it most comfortable to just eat with only his mouth, keeping all limbs firm on the ground while he devoured pastry after pastry, relishing in pleasures otherwise inconceivable to him till the tray was empty and he was finally left sprawled on his back, eyes welling up in tears from sheer ecstasy.
Once done with the sudden surge of emotion he had not felt in longer than he could remember, he turned his attention to the internship offers he had received the day before. The first was about helping out in a farm somewhere in the outskirts of town, though Jonathan had little inclination for much physical work nowadays. Readying himself for the day however he could, somehow managing to put on the saddlebags provided in the wardrobe and place the guides the purple creature gave him within, he left his room into corridors, down stairs to a lobby, and out doors to where he could really enter the town he was stuck in for the first time.
Sunlight greeted him as he poked his head out of the door, making him feel somewhat different than whatever sunlight hit him as he left his former home every morning. While there it only served a reminder of his morning routine, sometimes depressingly so, here he could feel actual warmth from the sun, only mildly irritating him as he walked the streets. It was, however, not irritating enough to take his mind off work, of how his boss was probably outraged and would likely not take his being stranded and transformed as an excuse for absence. He fretted, cursing his curse for disrupting his routine, likely preventing him from ever returning to it as well, if only because he would curse the morning sunlight more.
"Hey there! You alright?"
A cyan creature with a horn growing out of its head called out to him, apparently concerned with the rather worrying manner in which he was acting. Jonathan was still awkward with the environment around him, which in conjunction to his relative unfamiliarity of his own body manifested itself into a few tics as he worried over matters he was still determined to be worried about. Even if his stopping to sigh once every while could be ignored, the spasming of his neck and legs as he did his best to learn to walk on them while at the same time ignoring the irritating sense of satisfaction he felt from walking with two pairs of new legs.
Pleasantries exchanged themselves among them, with Jonathan sputtering out a "I... oh no, I'm fine, I'm fine.." of which the recipient replied with "Is that so? Don't let yourself be dragged down on such a nice day, then! Good luck!". The creature with a brand shaped like a lyre smiled at him, leaving Jonathan a little flustered, and left. A stranger on the streets wishing him well aside, Jonathan was reminded vaguely of matters he had rather left forgotten, of an old hope that had ended in rather disastrous failure. The eventual realisation that he was being stared at for standing in the middle of the road, eyes glazed over as he lost himself in thoughts of times more cherished, shook him out of it enough to continue with his walk.
"Hey there, pardner!"
A familiar southern accent was perhaps the last thing Jonathan expected to hear once he had reached the apple farm, as an orange creature approached him, wearing a cowboy hat for some reason. Whatever constituted reason had of course broken down the very moment Jonathan had come, but he. quite wanted to have something to cling on to.
"You're... Jonathan, yeah? We met at the party yesterday! I'm Applejack, and welcome to Sweet Apple Acres! All grown up and ya still haven't found your cutie mark? That's a real shame, but no worries! Ol' Applejack's sure a good time buckin' apples'll help!
Jonathan was quite taken aback at the creature's hospitality, even if he was going to be resigned to work for her for a while. Even more so as just how she spoke or acted, not really indistinguishable from the farmers he had ran about in his youth, but almost as if idealised.
"Ah... thank you. This.. is an apple farm, is it? What will I be doing here?"
The oddity of farm animal-like animals running a farm aside, Jonathan wondered just how handless beings like themselves were even able to have a farm functioning. Wouldn't tasks like the slaughter of livestock, for one, be especially problematic? Unless they had equipment to help automate such labour, or even graspers, he found it hard to imagine how anything worked, if it even did in the same way he knew.
"Why, I just said we're going to be bucking apples, sugarcube! How else are we gonna harvest delicious apples to eat? Here, I'll show ya!"
Jonathan followed Applejack to an apple tree, where with a single powerful move she kicked the tree, causing a few apples to fall neatly into conveniently positioned baskets right under the tree.
"See? It's easy! Now you try!"
With the orange thing beckoning him on, he really had no choice but to follow through. It seemed simple enough, position himself and kick backwards, even in a body he didn't have for very long. The movement itself came surprisingly naturally to him, as if he'd always known how to do it, to just throw his legs behind him and feel the ends hit something solid. As if to congratulate this apparent discovery of the self, the thudding of a few apples falling into the baskets were heard, leaving Jonathan with a larger and stranger sense of satisfaction than ever.
A few praises later, Jonathan was left to harvest the apples on his own while Applejack attended to some other matter or another that required her to leave him be in the apple orchard. He felt his mind wandering more as he worked, somehow stimulated by the idyllic pastoralism around him. Memories of days long lost, spent on the farm some distant relative owned where he harvested apples as a youth just as he was now, albeit at the same time quite differently, slowly emerged from where he thought he had long forgotten. Even if any hope of ever reliving those days were lost with the brushfire that had removed any hope of revisiting just as he had begun to appreciate the ideals of living in nature, he never did find another chance to reclaim those times.
"Hey there, looks like you're already done! Why don't you come on in and rest a little while?"
Jonathan was slightly disappointed that he was done so quickly, at some point of his work he became lost in his own thoughts of happier days before his more recent years, and being shaken out of that which he could never really indulge was rather jarring. He looked around, only now noticing that all the baskets had been filled with succulent ripe apples presumably harvested by him, gleaming under the orange rays of a setting sun.
Applejack calling him a second time finally made him decide to move, following her to a farmhouse, likely what she called home. Treated to a chair and a drink, Jonathan's thoughts once more went back to wondering just what he would do now. The next job he had would be tomorrow, and once he had his payment he would have to leave right away, or he’d have to stay with these creatures more than he would like. He found himself obediently sitting still, hoping that things would hurry up and be done with if he shook his leg or stared at the doorway, but he was tethered by need for a living, a familiarity that comforted him slightly as it occurred to him.
"Alright, we're all done! Come on in!"
The farmer's voice came from the next room,again interrupting Jonathan from his thoughts, though at least this time he was shaken out of worries, not sweet memories of long lost times. He was brought to a dinner table, with three other ponies seated around it, all watching him expectantly.
"Here's for everything today" said Applejack as she handed him a bag of what appeared to be coins "And how about joining us for dinner? You did fine work out there, pardner, we baked a good apple pie just for you. Go on, sit!"
"No, I couldn't, really.. all I really need is some funds to last me a few days, and you've given me so much, I think it would be best if I just made a move now. Again, thank you so much, but I really mustn't impose-"
"Aww, no need to be so modest, now. That apple pie's going to go to waste if you don't eat!"
Jonathan's options now were to either shove the pony blocking the doorway to the side to make his escape, or comply with demands and seat himself at the dinner table.
"Let me introduce you to my family," announced Applejack as Jonathan finally sat, her words disquieting him somewhat. "This is my grandma, Granny Smith, this is my brother, Big Macintosh, and here's my little sister, Applebloom!"
They all gave their greetings, making Jonathan respond in kind. This sort of scene was familiar to him, family members gathered around a table for meals. He resolved to finish his pie as quickly as possible and leave, he knew what these tended to go to all too well. Soon, someone with an upset would bring their issue up, and it would all go downhill, arguments, fights and the like following. No, he thought, he wouldn't be a part of it this time, he'd leave the moment he was done, hopefully before anything transpired, and he wouldn't have to watch those kinds of interactions families usually got up to for too long.
Of course, here where his reason no longer had any bearing, as if to spite him somehow the discussion among them never had a hint of hostility, as the family of four spoke. On occasion they asked him some questions about himself, something he was still yet to be comfortable with, yet found comforting to speak out to these people. It was all so strange to him, who had never really seen family get along so well, their speeches riddled with jokes, concern and camaraderie with each other, ultimately having him join in as well. He had forgotten that he had finished his apple pie a long time ago, the taste of which was also long lost as he listened in, trying to find some way of making sense how they got along so well. He even joined in at some point, the friendliness overtaking him and stirring yet another bit of nostalgia that he tried his best not to think about as he listened and spoke in kind, ultimately enjoying interaction for the first time in far too long.
Still, it was late, and he had to leave behind this warped, odd supper. All of them said their goodbyes to him, and he left the farm back for town, still doing his best to not let the small satisfaction of walking in fours overcome. An odd wistfulness would accost him as he walked away from the farmhouse, whose lights illuminated the evening.
