Meshworld

It had been an hour sitting across from eachother, and my alien houseguest was fidgiting: at least where fidgiting means circling her hoof in the carpet, looking away from me and shifting about in a manner could be understood as awkward.

Being wary not to shrug, I decided to go for it and pointed to myself for an idea so overused, so cheesy, alien ponies should recognise it and feel bad for me.

"Anon"

Then pointing at her and cocking my head.

I repeated this only twice before her eyes lit in excitement and she pointed to herself.

"Twilight spakrl"

It sounded uncannily like "Twilight Sparkle", which although and odd name, is rather endearing considered she's an alien. She shook her head, though, and broke out in alien babble before calming herself with a deep breath. Her horn lit up and the feeling of wrongness in the air increased. I tensed a ~~little~~ lot. Was sharing names considered rude? Was she going to light me like a candle? Primal fear struck me, like the headlights before a deer.

My thoughts, my inner voice that was screaming in panic, that is, hushed. What came next wasn't exactly words, rather concepts that could be distilled into words; concepts and emotions that felt distant, muted, but significant.

There was a sense of curiosity and expectation. The sense of another's emotions, especially an alien's, was somehow right - a unity that could be appreciated with her childlike wonder. Of course, it was dubious whether these thoughts were my own.

A wave of elation rushed over me from the purple mare. The feeling of accomplishment and hope so strong that the wave felt like a tsunami. There was aknowledgement, then perhaps anger? Denial, then resignment. Watching the still mare going through that range of emotions on her face would have been highly entertaining if it wasn't for the fact she was doing unspeakable things to my mind.

The flame on her horn extinguished and she let out a dejected breath whilst I nursed my headache and gave her a glare. She wilted at that, so at least I could use a decent range of facial expressions to communicate with her. Of course my fear was gone; watever emotions she was feeding me were obviously her own, considering those unmistakable faces she made. Of course the other elephant in the philosophical lounge was the fact she had recognisable, and most likely, human emotions in the first place. I was never one to consider emotions the sole respect of humans, but to think they were universal as such was startling, and somewhat welcome all the same.

Sniffles.

She was crying again. That wouldn't do. Taking the plunge, I scooted towards her and wrapped my arms around her tensing form. She relaxed, and relaxed further until she was limp and bawling. What was her story? She isn't some invader from beyond the stars; she genuinely looked lost. I also couldn't help but notice the feeling of her fur, something like a short-haired cat's, but much warmer.

I noticed she had a symbol on her butt. An array of stars around a much larger star. Perhaps she really was some space explorer, but got lost along the way?