Ariving In A Pile of Snow
The stallion shivered in the cold, slowly regaining conciseness. He had been lying in a snow drift, outside of a large oak tree. He tried getting to his feet, only to collapse against a wall in a fit of coughing. Blood splattered the snow, and pain shot from his chest to his skull sending him thrashing around. It felt like he was shot… like he was shot... like he was shot with a diamond... a diamond bullet right through his forehead.
The nearby door opened, Spilling a warm orange glow onto the snow outside, and illuminating the stallion. The head of a violate mare popped out, wondering whom would be up at this hour aside from her.
“Hello? Is any pony out there?” Twilight Sparkle asked. She was answered only by more coughing. Twilight instinctively took a step forward, then hesitated. Crime rates were on the rise, Celestia had even warned her to start locking her door at night.
But then she heard a moan that made her heart skip a beat. It was like that of a dying animal, but with the sentient fear of suffering. She brought magic to her horn, illuminating the darkened ally, and revealing the twisted form of a stallion, bloodied and battered.
The stallion looked up at her with only one good eye, the other one having been blackened and swollen shut. A gurgling sound emitted from the stallions mouth, it may have been a plea for help. Twilight stood there, horror struck. Her mind had frozen. “This is just a dream” she thought. “Yes, a night mare, this isn’t real. I’ll go back inside because this isn’t real. When I wake up, Luna and I will have a long discussion about what goes on in my head while I sleep.” And with that, she walked back inside,
The stallion watched in horror as the door closed. Before he could ask himself how this night could get any worse, a gust of wind kicked up, sending renewed vigor into the night’s coldness. The stallions mind began to flood with information. A healthy pony could survive in zero degree temperatures for up to six hours. He however, was not a perfectly healthy pony, he was the exact opposite. On the upside, it was only about twenty two degrees out, so that improved his chances slightly.
On another serendipitous note, there was a small cottage on the outskirts of town that still had a light on. The stallion pushed his hoof in front of him, looking at the raven black fur that covered his leg. Yes, Raven that was a good name. Short, simple, descriptive, if not slightly feminine. Yes, from now he would be Raven last name up in the air.
One hoof in front of the other, that was how raven pulled himself toward that light in the cottage. Dragging himself through the snow, leaving a small trickle of blood as a grim marker of his trail. It was going quite smoothly all things considered. “I might actually survive this.” He thought to himself. Then he fell through the ice of a small stream and plunged into icy black water.
The shock of the water shot through his body and sent adrenalin through his him, sending his strength and endurance to new heights. He kicked his legs, shooting through the water to the bottom of the ice, desperately trying to break a hole in it. The ink like water rushed past him, sending his blood downstream, and bringing fresh, cold water towards him. He would freeze to death in minutes if he didn’t hurry. The current kept bringing fresh, cold water, to replace that which had been tainted by his body heat.
Just as he had drug himself through the snow, so did he try to escape this watery grave, one hoof in front of the other. After what seemed like hours of fruitless pounding, a small crack appeared in the ice. Raven desperately pounded against the hardened liquid, feeling the darkness of death creeping into his thoughts. With one desperate push he felt the ice give way, allowing him to come up for air. He gasped, coughing water from his throat. Pulling himself onto the ice, half dragging himself, half sliding the remaining distance to the shore.
However, once there, he almost died of mental face hoof. Not twenty feet away was a bridge. A bridge that he could have pulled himself over. Regardless, he was but a scant 3 meters from the door to the small cottage. As Raven drug himself onto the porch, the door was opened, and a salad bowl was thrown out. It hit Raven in the head, knocking him unconscious.
On the bright side of things, the white rabbit that was discarding the dish saw Raven, bloodied and battered (yet able to drag himself 50 meters) and almost dead. In shock, he threw his arms ups, and ran across the room, flailing his arms wildly, until he hit a wall. Wondering what could have triggered such a response from her normally stoic rabbit, Fluttershy went to investigate. What she saw didn’t so much as frighten her as send her into a flurry of motion.
She ran to the kitchen, being the closest room to contain one of many first aid kits, as well as other kitchany things. She ran back outside, grabbing Raven by his fore hooves, and drug him over to the couch, where he began to bleed. Piling gauze into her hoof, Fluttershy tried to diagnose the worst wounds. He was cut severely in several places. Just above his right shoulder was a deep wound. It appeared as though the object that created the wound had entered at an angle, narrowly missing the neck and spine. This was easily the worst wound, and was the one she stopped first. It was started to clot and scab over, indicating that it was no longer fresh.
Along his legs were various light scratches and cuts, but nothing that would prove lethal if untreated. Fluttershy carefully administered disinfectant to the wounds, then bandaged them. Then her eyes moved to the two remaining wounds. A large gash across his chest that she quickly stitched closed, and a small cut along his fore head that spewed blood like a sliced artery.
Fluttershy iced the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. Finally the red was replaced with black as the blood stopped and more of the stallions black coat was revealed. It looked to be a blunt force wound, one with enough force to break the skin and maybe cause brain damage. There might have been bruising, but with a coat this dark, Fluttershy couldn’t tell. Fluttershy bandaged the wound, rather than stitching, not wanting to risk further damage, no matter how improbable.
Now Fluttershy faced a difficult choice. Should she move the pony to a hospital, risking further damage in the move, or trust her skills and hope his condition didn’t worsen. She decided to keep him, at least for the remainder of the night. She wasn’t strong enough to move him, and she didn’t want to leave him to find one of her friends. With as much care a possible, Fluttershy draped a blanket over the sleeping figure, and settled down in an armchair to watch over her patient.
Raven opened his eyes. Across the room sat a canary yellow mare with a cotton candy pink mane, sound asleep in a in a plush arm chair. Raven let his gaze wander down to his wounds. Some were stitched, others simply bandaged. He lifted his legs, examining the patchwork of gauze and bandaging. Anymore and he could have qualified for mummification.
Despite his many cuts and scratches, there were no casts or splints on his body, indicating that there were no broken bones or that his care taker had missed diagnosed him. Raven desperately hoped that he had no broken bones.
It was about this time that Fluttershy opened her eyes. At first she wondered why her bed was in her living room, and then the previous evening came flooding back to her. Her patient was wide awake on her couch, apparently in no pain at all. “Are you alright? You were hurt pretty badly.” The jet black stallion turned her head in her direction.
“Good, I feel surprisingly good. Name’s Raven, by the way. I appreciate you taking care of me. However, I think I might have amnesia, and I do not like that prospect.” Raven replied, in a tone of voice that was so cheerful/sarcastic that Fluttershy couldn’t help to suppress a small giggle. “Glad to see that even when I’m suffering, I manage to bring a small amount of joy to this world.” Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to a hospital.”
In truth, Raven had no idea why he was being so snide and sarcastic. The pony who saved his life deserved better than this. But at the same time, it felt natural.
“Maybe it’s just my personality…” He thought to himself. “Wow, maybe I really do have amnesia. Wow, I have said maybe three times in the past three seconds. Maybe I should quit saying maybe. Oh well, how bad could not knowing who I am really be? It’s not like I depend on my knowledge of myself to make every decision.” Raven continued to think to himself. “Wow, my attitude sucks.”
Raven opened the front door of the cozy cottage. Walked out, and shut the door. He stopped, spun around 180 degrees, opened the front door again, and popped his head back in. “Which way is the Hospital?” He asked.
Fluttershy giggled at his shenanigans. She walked outside, tugging his hoof as she went. She felt loose around this stallion, as if she had known him for years. Maybe it was his attitude, He acted cynical but energetic at the same time. Like he was putting up a front to act stoic. She was familiar with this. Bears did it all the time. They acted tough and savage, but when you got to know them, they were very cuddly
And so, the strange duo made their way to the freshly fallen snow. Raven, now suffering from a head ache, noted at how bland it looked. Fluttershy thought it looked very nice.
Her typical shyness put to rest; Fluttershy found herself acting flirty around Raven. Just small things, bumping into him, stopping and making her wait for him. Running a short ways ahead and waiting for him. Generally acting like a playful dog. It was starting to get on Raven’s nerves. They finally reached the Hospital, which, for some reason, was on the outskirts of town, so they encountered no pony on the way.
After entering the hospital, Raven was impatiently seen by a doctor. “So, Raven, is it? I’m Dr. Gangrene. Nah, I’m joking, names Dr. Cardiac.” The Brown unicorn stallion Joked. Dr. Cardiac found that he felt very relaxed around this dark pegasus. “Aside from the obvious injuries, you wished to have me check for amnesia. Alright, here we go.” With that, his horn lit up, and surrounded Raven’s head in a sickly yellow glow.
After about thirty minutes of prodding, Dr. Cardiac suddenly cut off the flow of magic. “Alright, it looks like you have amnesia.” Raven just sat there stunned. “That’s it?” He asked, puzzled by the quickness of the diagnoses.
“That’s it. Now, I normally don’t don’s do this for patients, but you could probably use a job, luckily, I have a uh, “friend” that has an opening. Here is her address.” Raven took the note from the doctor. “Can’t you cure my amnesia with you magic?” He asked. Dr. Cardiac let out a chuckle. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m a doctor, not a brain surgeon/miracle worker. Have a nice day”
Raven slowly walked out of the hospital, head hung low. It hung even lower when he saw that Fluttershy hadn’t waited for him. He looked down at the note, on which was written only the number eleven. His head now dragging along in the snow, Raven walked straight into a white picket fence. He gazed up, looking a pink house. On the mail bow was the number eleven.
“Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh, this must be the number eleven I’m supposed to go to. Make’s sense”
