Mad pony

I sipped my chai and levitated within my hollowed out tree. From behind my eyelids I could see the flickering of the candlelight. I basked in its modicum of warmth and I smiled. For it was a nice day in the Everfree; the trees decided to part slightly to let some sunshine in. I would go outside, but I had meditating to do. What was I meditating on? You may ask. I was meditating on suppressing my lonesomeness. It was very lonely out here in the Everfree. The unforgiving animals were enough to put up with, not to mention having to find food and occasionally having to hollow out another tree because some Ursa Major sees yours as a chewing toy. Why in Luna’s holy name did I live here? It was hot, uncomfortable and scary and quite frankly I hated it here. But it does provide wondrous and beautiful pieces of art, herbs and more.

I heard a loud thump extramural that shook me from my suspended state. I didn’t know what to think. Was the Ursa Major back? Egads, it aggravating! I began throwing all my belongings that were rare or had sentimental value out the window.

“Damn it all to Tartaraus! You’re so Luna-damned annoying!” I shouted. I know it didn’t rhyme, but at the moment I didn’t care. Once I had gotten all of my belongings out the window I ran out the door, only to find there was never any Ursa Major, or Ursa Minor for that matter, only a sickly blue, sweaty and starved looking pony with a messy, tattered hospital gown and a nasty looking welt/gash on her forehead. I looked down at her and I sympathized with her. I felt bad for her. I couldn’t just leave her here, so I carried her frail and emaciated body in my front forelimb and went inside. It wasn’t that hard because of how light she was. I sat her down on my bed and began preparing a broth for her. I also incensed the room with Zebraharan perfumes. The while hovering over the broth, I began hymning Shamanistic Solitude, a song I had pieced together about the lonesomeness of being a shaman, in Zebraharan dialect. The while, I thought. I thought about this stranger I had brought into my home. Who was she? I looked at her hospital gown. It said “Property of Ponyville Mental Hospital” down near the bottom. I was taken aback by it a bit. I had taken one of the mad into my home. Was I not okay with it? No, I was just…surprised. I removed myself from the tree and began picking up my things outside and thinking.

I picked up the mask my father gave to me and put it through the window. Would my rhyming confuse her? It would certainly be amiss to her. Wait a minute, what type of mentally ill was she? I picked up the crystal ball from Saddle Arabia. Was she genuinely insane? Was she schizophrenic? Was she sociopathic? Just who was she? I saw that her cutie mark was of a screw. I picked up the Archaic Monokeros book. Maybe, just in case, I shouldn’t rhyme. I picked up the rest of my belongings and placed them inside. I ultimately decided I wasn’t going to rhyme. I went inside and began tending to the broth. I resumed Shamanistic Solitude and lit another incense. I saw her opening her eyes.