I am suffocated by darkness on all sides. I can’t move, see, or breathe. Oddly enough, it doesn’t really matter to me. But then, like an explosion, I’m struggling for air, trying to get out of this trap. I need air! My lungs are imploding. I frantically scrabble at the walls around me, squirming and screaming. Then, when I’m sure I’m going to die, one hand breaks through into open air. Somehow, I break my head through that tiny hole and take deep, gulps of air. But for some reason, everything is still pitch-black. Why? Then, I realize my eyes are still squeezed shut. I open them quickly, and they practically burst into flames.
The light is so bright, that I have to close my eyes again. I don’t know which is better, or the darkness. Slowly, I open one eye a tiny little crack, then the other. There. They still burn, but it’s bearable. I look down. I see sand instead of my hooves. I struggle, and eventually break my limbs out into open air. Apparently, it wasn’t a trap. I was buried underground.
I look at the world around me. I am on a beach somewhere. Behind me is a plain. I stand up on my four hooves to get a better view. Far away, I can see the outline of a humongous mountain. I suppose I shouldn’t waste time looking at the scenery. As far as I know, I don’t have any survival supplies, or companions. No weapons, no food, and the clothes I'm wearing are in tatters.
I walk across the plain. I see some small animals, and though they run away on sight, I'm comforted by the fact that there are other living creatures here. I trot for hours, and eventually I come to a steep cliff. The mountain! I look up, and the cliff goes as high as I can see. No use wasting my energy climbing. However, there are two paths to go. The right way is a deep, lush forest. The left way is still part of the cliff, but it’s less steep and rockier, so it will be easy to traverse. Obviously, the right way would be the ideal choice. Forests supply wood, shelter, and more animals. There would probably be a clean water source there, too, like a lake or stream. Yet, somehow I feel the need to go the left way, like there’s something hidden there, something no one would expect. So I listen to my heart instead of my brain, and turn left.
I begin to climb the rocky slope. Just like I thought, it’s no challenge at all, except that the hot sun is beating down on me. I guess it’s summertime. In fact, I could just walk up, but I feel climbing is safer. After a very long time of climbing, it starts to get dark. I look up to the sky, and confirm that it is becoming nighttime. I need to find shelter soon, and water. I’m starting to get thirsty. Should I turn back, and go to the forest? No, I’ve already gone too far this way. When I would get to the forest, it would be in the middle of the night. I keep climbing.
Eventually, in the darkness I can make out another fork in the path. The left way leads higher up the mountain, and if I squint, I can see that the slope gets a lot steeper. But to the right, there is a large cave. Caves make perfect shelters, don’t they? The cave it is, then. But then, I start to get the same feeling as before, that I should go to the left. This time, however, I put my foot down. I am not going to listen to my instincts. A cave is what I need to survive. I head into the cave, even though my heart is practically screaming at me not to.
I start to explore the inside, but the deeper I get, the darker it gets, until it’s pitch-black and I can’t see a single thing. I travel back to the mouth of the cave and catch the end of the sunset. It’s incredibly beautiful, with tendrils of orange light streaking across the sky as the sun sinks below the rippling water. Up here I can get a great view all around this place. I trace the shoreline, around beaches and forests and cliffs, to come back to where I started. An island, then. I begin to realize that everything about this island is amazing--the scenery, the structure, just everything.
Then, I start to wonder the name of this island. I can’t think of anything, so I guess that means this is an unpopulated place. But if this is something like that, there would be no other ponies, would there be? I don’t want to believe that, but deep inside I do. I am completely alone. I start to think of ways to survive, and get out of this place. Maybe if I find enough resources, I can build a boat and drift away. Yet, the best thing I could build would just be a raft, and rafts aren’t particularly fast. I would probably starve just waiting for land. Then, something confuses me. How did I get to this island in the first place?
When I try to remember, there is something like a giant wall in my mind, blocking me from the knowledge that I need. That makes me panic a little bit. I decide to ask myself a very simple question. What is my name? It’s the exact same thing as before, a wall. But this time, something comes through the wall. A name.
Suri Polomare.But that's all that comes through.
Now, I’m really panicked. One word runs through my mind…amnesia. Then, I start asking as many questions as I can, even ones that wouldn’t be helpful, just to see if I can break through. What’s my favorite color? Who are my parents? Nothing. Why am I here? Where do I live? That last question is the only one that I know the answer to. I live here now.
I fell asleep without realizing it. I know that because it’s morning now. I don’t know exactly what time it is, but what I do know is that I am parched and a little hungry, too. It would take too long to go all the way down the slope, so I decide to fully explore the cave now and pray there’s water in there. If not, well…I don’t want to think about that. I wander into the cave again. It’s a very long tunnel. After a while, it slowly gets darker and darker, until I can’t see anything. I walk for a couple minutes, and then crash straight on into a wall. I feel around for a while. There are two paths again. This time, there aren’t any crazy urges, so I just go right.
I can feel the corridor getting narrower as I go on. It’s still pitch-black. Eventually, I walk into a wall again. But this time, I can’t feel any other passageways. Now, I’m feeling a little woozy from being so thirsty. I keep feeling around, but it’s definitely a dead end. I can swear that the rough, bumpy cave walls are a little bit damp, though. I turn back. It feels hard to walk now, like my pounding head is weighing me down. My mouth is completely dry, and it feels like a sandstorm hit my throat. My stomach aches from hunger, too. Yet somehow, I’m still walking. I can’t fall down now, because I might not be able to get back up. I need to turn back now. Maybe I can find enough energy to climb back down and find a water source. And if I can’t…well, I’d rather die in the sunlight and fresh air than in some cave.
Dead end after dead end, fork after fork, I finally realize I’m lost. This cave doesn’t even seem like a cave anymore. Now, in my mind, it’s a maze, and I was foolish enough to stumble into it. I can feel the world spinning, even though everything is still completely dark. It’s a pity that I’ll never get to know who I am. I never felt myself falling, but somehow I’m collapsed on the ground, hooves splayed now. I force myself to crawl. I didn’t feel myself falling again, yet now I’ve completely collapsed, with my muzzle on the cold, rough stone. I try to move, but I feel too tired to even breathe. When I take air in, it stings very badly because of my parched throat
I don’t know how long I lay there. I try several times to not breathe, but every time my instincts come in and make me take a gulp of air. The pain and dryness in my throat is unbearable. Why can’t I just die already? If I had any energy, I would be writhing in pain. Part of me wonders how the floor is so cold when the air in here is hot and stuffy. Then, realization hits me with a jolt. The floor is so cold because it’s wet. Not a puddle, or anything I can drink with, but I’m positive that the floor is wet. And, when I listen closely, I can hear the faint sound of rushing water. This invigorates me, motivates me enough to start crawling in the direction of the sound. I might not die here.
I keep on moving towards the sound of the water. But then, I bump into another rough, rocky wall. No…no…how is this possible? I know. Because this is one of the maze’s tricks. I can tell this maze was not made naturally. Nature wouldn’t have thought to be so cruel, to get someone motivated by the sound of water, just to be disappointed again. I turn back and try a different route, but I can’t find the water anywhere. After a long time of crawling desperately, I see a dim light in the distance. It’s almost blinding, after being in the dark for so long. I drag myself towards it.
When I finally get there, I see that the light’s coming from a hole in the ceiling of the maze. This is what I’m looking for. A good place to rest. I collapse on the ground, unable to move. I look through the hole. It seems like it’s getting darker slowly. So I must have been in here for a whole day. The sandstorm in my throat and the aching in my stomach seem even worse, if that’s possible. I lay there, helpless, until the sky goes black and I can see the stars come out. It's breath-taking. A wave of exhaustion sweeps over me. I feel myself sinking into unconsciousness.
Let's Get This Party Started!
I wake up bleeding all over.
Great way to start a chapter, am I right?
But seriously, I’m bleeding like crazy. There’s blood everywhere. Where the heck is it coming from?! I feel all around my body with my hooves. Oh. It’s coming from my head, inside my golden mane. Doesn’t really hurt. Head wounds just bleed a lot, or something like that. Wait, but how’d that happen anyways? I don’t remember hitting my head, and that’s the kind of thing you remember pretty clearly. It’s all dried, though, so it probably happened pretty long ago. Anyway, where am I? I don’t know…feels like there’s a big wall blocking me from knowing.
The only thing that's coming through the wall are the words, Lightning Dust. Is that my name? Or is it some sort of magical powder that can cure diseases, or a trick? I'm just gonna go with that my name is Lightning Dust.
Wherever I am, I don’t see anypony else, so I guess I’ll have to get along by myself for a while. First things first, I need to wash myself off. This blood is absolutely disgusting. What can I use? I’m lying in a small grassy area, by the looks of it. I stand up. I’m a bit stiff. Hmm…I wonder how long I’ve been asleep. To my right, there’s a forest. To my left, there’s…I gasp out loud. It’s a cliff, leading down to water below. There’s my bathtub. I should really find a path down to the water, but really. Who wants to do that? The rusty blood smell was unbearable. Besides, I'm getting this feeling that I'll jump, and I'll be fine. Like I can fly or something. C'mon, you would've jumped, too.
For a second, the air is just rushing past me and it feels AWESOME. I keep thinking that I'll be fine, that I'll start flying and not get hurt. Then, I hit the water, but it feels more like concrete. Before I can shout, I’m sinking into the salty blueness. I struggle, but I don’t get anywhere. Finally, my head breaks the surface. I get enough time to take a breath, but then I’m sinking again. Whoops, I guess I can’t swim. Oh God…I can’t swim! When I come back up for air again, I see large rock a few yards away. I flail my hooves and these weird appendages coming out of my back around, trying to “swim” to the rock. I grab onto the wet surface and pull myself up into a sitting position. It’s funny how I can think that the water that was just drowning me is so beautiful. It’s turquoise and deep, with calm waves lapping against my rock. Note to self: Don’t get in the water. At least all the blood is off now.
Wait…that doesn’t make sense. If I can’t swim, shouldn’t I have known that before I jumped in? Maybe I had never been in the water before. No, I would still have known to not jump off the cliff. And why did I feel like I could fly? Maybe…I didn’t know I can’t swim? Like…I used to know, but I forgot. How would I forget that, though? Ugh. Too much thinking. Better focus on something more important, like getting back to land.
Ok, this rock is basically the base of the cliff. Since it’s connected, I could actually just climb back up. I guess the climb isn’t…impossible… Looks like twenty feet or so. It’s steep, but there are a lot of handholds. I’ll try to climb it. I put one hoof on a small, jutting out piece, and the other on an indent. With some effort, I pull myself up so that I'm braced against the cliff. Umm…what now? I see another handhold a foot away from my right hoof. But if I were to reach out and grab it, I’ll most likely fall. What can I do?
I think I should try to grab the handhold. I'm STILL getting that feeling that I can just soar up, even though it's obviously wrong. Seriously, who's ever heard of a flying pony? To not fall down, I’ve got to make my hoof move like, lightning. I shoot my right hoof out. Midway, the rest of my body starts to plop down, but I actually hang on to the handhold, so I’m dangling by one hoof! I can’t help myself from screaming like a little filly (Or like a dying cricket. Sweet Celestia, I need voice therapy…). Calm down. CALM DOWN. I can feel my hoof slipping. I need to do something quick. Somehow, I get one hoof on the rock my hand was on before. All right, I’m stable. What next?
This is probably getting boring for you, so I’ll skip all the climbing (and falling) and say that I eventually got to the top of the cliff. Ugh…that was a total waste of time. My legs feel like Jell-O. I need to get walking now if I’m going to survive. I’ve got to find shelter and food and water. I trot into the forest. Obviously, that’s the best way to find what I need. The forest starts out pretty thin, but after a long time it looks more like a jungle. The canopy blocks out a lot of the light and that makes me keep tripping over all the thick undergrowth. I could just shimmy up a tree and call that my house, but you know what? I’ve had enough climbing for a long time.
Jeez, how big is this freaking forest? I think I’ve been in here for hours now. But it’s not like I can do anything else. If I just keep walking, I know I’ll find the end somewhere. I’m getting a little thirsty, too. It’s really hot and humid down in here. I just keep walking, since I obviously shouldn’t turn back. I can't keep wasting time.
After a few centuries, I FINALLY come to a clearing. There are pretty flowers everywhere, and a brook several yards away. Woo-hoo! There’s my water source. I jog over there and take a drink. I’m sure you’re supposed to boil water in the wild first, but…
A: I’m really thirsty.
B: The water looks clean.
C: How the heck am I supposed to boil water if I don’t have a freaking fire?!
Ah…that water feels really nice. At first I dunk my head in and slurp the cold stuff into my mouth, but then, I find myself using the weird, feathered appendage on my back to scoop up water and bring it to my mouth. I still don't know what those things are. They kinda look like wings, but that's just dumb. They're way to small to support flight, anyway. . So… I need food. And shelter. Those are the highest priorities now. This little meadow is, like, the ideal place for a little kids movie. There’s GOT to be something edible somewhere. Or, at the very least, some berries. At first I want to try eating the flowers, but at a closer look, I see that they're all huge and exotic, with giant, multi-colored petals and weird leaves. I have no idea what kind of flower they are. They could be poisonous, so I decide not to take the risk of eating them.
I know food is a little more important, but I decide to go find myself a home. You know, stick to the things that seem manageable. In the distance, there’s a cliff (leading up this time). I really, really don’t want to climb again after my previous experience, but there might be a cave or something up there. I start walking over. The meadow is much bigger than it seems, though, so the sun is already close to setting by the time I get there. I look up and…whoa. The cliff stretches up farther than my line of sight. Guess it’s more like a mountain, then. I think I see a cave a quarter of the way up, though. I’m NOT climbing up, but maybe I can find a way that doesn’t use that exercise.
I look all around, and eventually find a slope leading upwards that I can walk up. I just really hope the slope leads to the cave, since it’s slowly getting darker now. I start walking up the slope. It’s a bit steeper and thinner than I thought, so it’s actually pretty hard not to go plop off the side. I hold on to the cliff wall for support. After a short time I actually find myself near the entrance to the cave. Wow…I really struck gold, didn’t I? I start to walk towards the entrance (which looks a bit smaller than I thought) but then I hear something coming from the interior. Some sort of snuffling, hissing noise, like a wild animal. I guess I'll have to attack it if I want to claim this cave as my house.
Wait. I shouldn’t just charge in there bare handed, should I? I don’t know. The animal has stopped its noise. It knows I’m right outside the cave. What if that animal is some sort of predator, like a bear? I flex my muscles. Pretty big, if I do say so myself. But could I take on a BEAR? No, probably not. But it could also be something like a rabbit.
I can’t stall any longer. Whether the animal runs or attacks, I need this cave. It’s completely dark now. Although it was hot before, now the nighttime chill brushes against me and makes me shiver. (I'm a poet and I know it!) Luckily, there’s a full moon out so I can see…somewhat. I sprint to the front of the cave and spread my hooves out, opening the feathered things wide as a sign of aggression. At first I can’t see a single thing inside, but after a little while I see a big, black shape moving slowly towards me. It looks about as tall as me. I think I hear hooves scrape the stone floor. Is it a pony? That thought is terminated when I see it's glowing turquoise eyes. No pupils or irises.
The, um...thing… advances until it’s only a few feet away. It’s so dark I can’t really tell, but it doesn’t look anything like any animal I know. It looks kind of like a pony, but it's pitch-black, has no mane, and is riddled with holes all over its body. Maybe I should run… No, I shouldn’t. If I want to survive, I need this cave. Maybe I can push it off the cliff. It appears to be a pretty fatal drop. If I attack correctly, he’d be the one going plop off the side. But how should I attack? I want to charge this thing headfirst, but then it might just push me off. Then, I would be a Lightning Dust pancake.
The thing shoots forward and tackles me to the ground, dangerously close to the edge of the cliff. For an awfully long time, it holds me to the ground so tightly I can’t move. I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the thing to push me off the cliff. It’s so close; I can smell its breath. It smells like blood and death. Hmm. Seems like somepony’s been eating rotten carcasses lately.
For some reason, it’s not pushing me off the side. I don’t feel any pain, so it’s not really attacking me in any way. Maybe…it’s friendly?
“Nice…uh…animal,” I whisper. I slowly open my eyes. I’m looking right into its eyes, those huge, green, soulless eyes. This thing is NOT a regular animal. Probably some demon thing from down under. And I’m not talking about the place with the kangaroos.
“Who’s a cute little…thing…?” I coo. It hisses, and opens it's mouth. It has huge, sharp white fangs. Looks like somepony doesn't like being called cute.
Now, I’m going to tell you what happens next, but you must remember all of this occurs in about three seconds.
Mr. Demon hisses and lowers his giant fangs to puncture my throat or something unpleasant like that. I start to feel that dumb flying feeling again. Mr. Demon's fangs are getting closer and closer to my throat. My wing things suddenly feel crazy strong, like I just got some major adrenaline boost. I find myself flapping them as hard as I can, and just like that, I'm shooting upwards into the sky, Mr. Demon plummeting to the ground below the cliff.
Huh. Maybe I can fly, after all.
In shock, I forget to keep flapping, and I find myself falling. I hit the ground right in front of the cave hard, all the air rushing out of my lungs. I see stars burst in front of my vision, and everything goes black.
I don’t know how I got here. I’m standing right in the center of a dry riverbank. One second, I was parched and dying, and then I was somehow teleported here when I lost consciousness. Does this mean I’m dreaming? Probably. It’s the only logical explanation. What am I doing in this place? It feels like I’m waiting for something. I don’t see anything happening. But then, I hear a light rumbling sound. What’s going on? In the distance, I can see the water rapidly filling up the banks. It’s moving towards me. But why is the water red?
The water is only a few hundred feet away now. I can tell now that it’s not water, it’s blood! As the blood-river advances towards me, the dream starts to shimmer, and fade away. Not entirely, though. I have to move out of the blood-river’s path! As much as I want to, my body won’t respond. The blood-river starts to slow down near me, almost as if its saying, get out of my path. I don’t want to hurt you. My limbs won’t move, though. My muzzle moves, to talk to the blood-river.
"I won’t move. I can’t move," I shout. The blood-river shoots forward with amazing speed, covering the remaining area between itself and me. The dream is incredibly distorted and blurry now. Please let it stop before the river hits me… It doesn’t. The blood-river slams into me with such force, I forget to breathe while I can. I swallow a mouthful of the stuff, and I get tossed under, tumbling over and over from the raging current. I don’t have much air…which way is the surface? I’m so disoriented, I can’t tell. I struggle frantically, but the thickness is preventing any movement. Am I going to drown?
I try to scream but I get another mouthful of blood. My lungs are aching. I don’t have much time! Suddenly, I feel a sharp pain in my right foreleg. At first it’s only like a prick of a needle, but it slowly gets worse until it feels like someone is drilling a hole into my leg. I try not to screech, but I can’t help opening my mouth and getting more blood down my throat.
“Hey! You’re alive,” a voice cuts through the hazy nightmare. The pain makes the nightmare even more distorted somehow. The redness is blurring and slowly fading away. It’s being replaced by a blurry grayness. The current of the river is getting lighter, too. No…I don’t want this to end. I’m not thirsty in this nightmare…
It takes a while for me to realize I’m awake. For some reason, I didn’t die of dehydration. In fact, I’m not that parched anymore. But…how? I’m still incredibly hungry, though. Then, I notice that my foreleg still hurts. I look at it, and see a circular wound, which is bleeding slightly. So that wasn’t part of the nightmare… I feel something tickling my leg. I glance over to see what’s doing that and shriek. There’s some sort of small, gray animal about to bite me! I scream at it and it runs a few yards away, to the wall. It turns around and hisses at me. But somehow, I can understand what it's trying to say. It's not speaking pony language, but somehow, I know what that hiss meant.
"I was only trying to help!"
I gape at the animal. Now that I get a closer look, it looks like some sort of wildcat. It's silver, with darker grey spots.
"Sorry. I thought you were going to bite me," I find myself mewing. Wait...mewing? Why am I talking like a cat? And why can I understand cat language?
The cat’s eyes open wide. We stare silently at each other for a while. Then, her eyes narrow. "Bite you? I just saved your life," she huffs.
Am I going crazy?
"You saved my life? I didn’t see you do anything," I say suspiciously.
"You were dying, silly. I noticed you were parched, so I poured water into your mouth." The cat rolls her amber eyes. "Anyways, my name’s Four-Leafed Clover. I know it’s a mouthful, so just call me Clover. What’s your name?"
I wonder if I should tell her what I think my name is. Well, she did save my life, so she can probably be trusted. "Suri Polomare."
"Suri...Polomare," Clover repeats. "That's a really weird name. Well, where do you come from?"
"I don't know. I don't know anything besides that name."
"Oh," Clover meows. "You mean like amnesia?"
"I think so. What kind of animal are you?"
"I’m an ocelot," she replies. "What kind of animal are you?" That’s another clue to prove this place is unpopulated.
"I’m a pony." Clover’s muzzle falls open in shock.
"That’s impossible," she mews. There’s no way you’re a pony!"
"I’m absolutely one hundred percent positive that I am an earth pony," I hiss.
Clover shakes her head in disbelief. "B-but ponies went extinct a long t-time ago..."
Now I’m the one in shock. This has to be another dream…talking ocelots, ponies extinct…If Clover is right, does that mean I’m the last pony on this planet?
"Well, we couldn’t have all died out if I’m still alive, right?" I say nervously.
"I guess so…" There’s a long silence. Clover looks very uncomfortable; I’m sure I do as well. Finally, my stomach growls. Clover makes a weird sound. It sounds like purring and meowing mixed together. I can’t hear any words, so she’s probably laughing. After a few seconds of this, her face turns serious.
"My mama told me that ponies are defenseless without their special tools and stuff. Is that right, Suri Polomare?
"I hate to say it, but yes," I reluctantly answer. Clover laughs again.
"So I guess without me, you’ll starve?"
"Probably," I growl. "Can you help me?"
"I need to think about it," Clover mews. She looks very thoughtful for a minute. "I have an idea!"
"What is it?"
"I was thinking that you would slow me down," Clover meows. "You know, dead weight and everything."
I nod, trying to stay on her good side. Those claws of hers look pretty sharp...
"But I really want to show you to my friends at home. My very own pet pony! Just imagine the looks on their faces!"
I chuckle. Clover looks at me suspiciously. "What’s so funny?"
"Nothing," I lie.
"Okay," Clover meows. "So, I’ll lead the way back to where my family lives."
"There’s a problem," I meow. "What will I do after that?" Clover shrugs.
"We’ll cross that log when we get there," she mews.
"Fine. But how are we going to get out of this mountain?"
"Oh, please," Clover hisses. "You actually think I would come in here without knowing the way out?! Follow me, Suri Polomare!" Clover bounds into one of the passageways. I gallop after her. It gets darker and darker until its pitch black again. I can hear the rushing water again. Luckily, that sound doesn’t overpower Clover’s claws scraping the floor. When we have to turn, she yowls, Right! Or Left! Occasionally I bump into a wall. By the time I see a dim light, I have bruises all over, and I’m thirsty and hungry again. Clover suddenly skids to a halt. We’ll stop here, she meows. I swing my gaze all around the massive cavern we’re in. Over to the left, I see a tunnel leading out to a forest. And next to that is…I gasp. There’s a small river winding through the tunnel as well! All the running through the maze has made me exhausted and parched. I dash over to it and swallow the cool, blissful water.
We both sit there for a long time, resting. Clover gives herself a bath. I decide to take advantage of this warm water and clean myself as well. I look into the stream and see my reflection. I’m so covered in dirt and grime; I can’t even see what I look like. No wonder Clover couldn’t figure out what animal I am.
I wade into the stream and pour water all over myself until I can see my features. I have a light pink coat and a long, purple mane. Luckily, I’m wearing clothing, though it’s so torn and dirty it won’t have any effect on warmth. I’ll need to acquire better garments if I have to last the winter. For a split second, I think of Clover’s thick, light grey, spotted coat. As soon as that thought passes through my mind, I reject it. I would never betray Clover like that right after she saved my life. I feel uncomfortable and glance behind me, but the ocelot is gone. I call out to her, but I don’t hear and answer. I search the whole cave, yowling her name, but it’s of no use. Clover has left me behind.
I curl up into a ball on the, cold, damp floor and lie in my own hunger and pity. I almost thought I could survive in the island, but I’m simply hopeless without Clover. And I was beginning to like her a little, too. But she is gone, and she’s not coming back. Somehow, through the aching pains in my stomach, I fall asleep.
I awake to a familiar meow, saying, "Get up, you big, pink lump." Clover! She came back! I hear a thump right next to me, and I open my eyes. She’s right above me, looking down into my face. Breakfast is served, she purrs. I sit up and gaze to my right, where Clover has dropped a dead rabbit.
"Clover…ponies don't eat meat," I worry. She narrows her amber eyes.
"Look, Suri," Clover hisses. "I’ve been up all night tracking this fat rabbit, so I want gratitude, and I want a lot of it. I really couldn’t care less if you ponies 'don’t eat meat.' I’m not going to get you anything else, so you’d better eat up. Or, you can starve if that satisfies you!"
"Okay, okay…but my teeth aren’t built for tearing apart dead animals, so you’ll have to do that for me." Clover bears her sharp teeth and slices the poor rabbit up into shreds. Blood pours out, and I feel my gut wrench. I have to eat this? I wish I had a fire, at least… I hesitantly pick up a piece in one hoof and shove it in my mouth. It’s salty and slimy, but otherwise not terrible. I force myself to swallow. My stomach convulses, but I manage to keep the food down.
"We have to leave soon if we want to get back to my home before nightfall," Clover states. "I live across the island." I eat about a third of the rabbit. I don’t trust myself not to vomit if I eat more.
"Are you going to finish that?"
"No," I meow. Clover wolfs down the rest and pads silently out of the cave. I follow her. As soon as we exit, she streaks away into the woods. I’m stunned for a second, but I remember I’m supposed to follow Clover, so I dash after her.
She’s only a dot in the distance, but I can track her by the noise she makes. I run as fast as I can, but Clover’s simply a little bit faster. It feels like hours that I blindly dash through the thickening wood, low branches smacking my face. My lungs are bursting at the seams and my forelegs are shredded from the brambles I keep stepping in. Every muscle in my body aches, but I won’t stop. I refuse to be left behind.
After what feels like years, Clover stops in a small clearing and lets me catch up to her. I collapse on the soft, springy grass, panting.
"Not bad," Clover mews. "Very few animals can keep up with me."
"What animals would be chasing you?"
"Predators."
"But I thought you were a predator," I say, confused.
"I’m not on the top of the food-chain, you bird-brain! There’s bigger stuff." For some reason, Clover doesn’t meet my eyes when she says this. "Come on, let’s go."
"Already?"
"Yes," Clover hisses. I was just letting you catch up, not go to sleep! She bounds away. I reluctantly follow. At least she’s slowed down a lot.
We run the whole entire day, taking breaks every so often. The forest seems more like a jungle, and it’s still getting thicker. Clover seems to know exactly where she’s going, but I’m starting to doubt her. Everything looks almost the same…are we going in circles? I look up and notice that the sun’s beginning to set. In our next short break, I share my suspicions with the ocelot while rubbing my cramped hooves.
"I’m not an idiot," she spits. "If we were going in circles, I could smell our scent in front of us. Trust me; I know where I’m going. Besides, we’re almost there, so stop complaining."
"Can we bunker down here and finish the journey tomorrow? I’m exhausted," I explain, rubbing my eyes. Clover snorts, but doesn’t protest. I get up and find some moss to make a pillow. I’m glad it’s warm out.
I lie down on the ground. Clover curls up beside me, looking exasperated.
"You’re not tired at all?" I ask her.
"No…well, maybe a little." Her eyes close. I roll over and stroke her fluffy, silver fur. She gives a little purr of recognition. I smile.
When I wake up, it’s still dark out and Clover’s still asleep. My stomach is practically exploding with hunger. I don’t want to rouse Clover; she might get cross. I notice a large bush with tiny red berries sprouting out. I walk over to it and pick berries until I have an entire hoofful of them. I’m about to pop a few in my mouth when I hear an ear-splitting screech.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
I look behind me and see Clover, bristling with anger. "Sorry," I apologize. "You can eat them if you want…"
"YOU IDIOT! THOSE ARE POISONOUS!"
I drop the blood-red berries to the ground, gasping. "I d-didn’t know," I mew quietly. I brace myself for more loud insults, but I don’t hear anything. In fact, Clover is hanging her head in…shame?
"You could have died," she whispers. "If you had eaten those berries you'd have been dead in ten seconds flat."
"I’m sorry."
"It’s all right." Clover perks up a little. "Now, if you’re hungry enough to eat poison, I guess you really need some food." I smile weakly. "I’ll be right back."
After about ten minutes, Clover comes back with a limp squirrel in her powerful jaws. She drops it on the ground and rips it into pieces for me. I eat just enough to satisfy myself. When I’m finished, she bounds away. I follow her.
We run through the thick foliage until we come up to a high, rocky ledge. I look up to see it leads higher than I can see.
"Please don’t tell me we have to climb this," I worry.
"Only a fraction of the way. Come on, let’s go!"
As we scale the rocks, I’m reminded of when I hiked up the mountain on the first day here. Maybe we’re on the other side. Finally, we come to a very small cave. Clover easily strides into it, but I have to crawl through. Luckily, it enlarges as I go in further. After a couple minutes of crawling, I can stand up without trouble. I hear a muffled meow—but it’s not Clover’s.
"Four-Leafed Clover, is that you?"
"Yes," Clover answers.
"What have you brought with you? It smells disgusting," the muffled voice growls. I flinch. Even though it’s dark in here, I can see Clover arching her back in pride.
"You’ll never guess!" Clover turns to me. "This is my older brother, Hawk’s Eye."
"Who are you talking to, Clover? It better not be a changeling..."
"I don’t think she’s a changeling, Hawk," Clover meows. I hear Hawk snort.
"What is she?"
"A pony," Clover mews. There is a very long silence.
"Is this one of your silly jokes?"
"Nope," Clover meows. "She can talk, too! Say hello, Suri Polomare!"
"Hello," I mutter. "What’s a changeling?" I hear a scratching sound, which probably means Hawk jumped in surprise. Both of the ocelots ignore my question.
"I suppose you can come in," Hawk meows doubtfully. He moves to the side, and I crawl into a larger section of the cave. After a second, I notice with a jolt that there are at least ten pairs of glowing amber eyes staring straight at me.
"Is she really a pony, Mama?" I hear a kitten’s squeaky voice cry. A huge, old ocelot with a white muzzle and tattered fur pads over and stares at me for a while, and says, "It is a pony." Gasps fill the room. The old cat stares me straight in the eye.
"As far as we know, all of your kin are dead," he meows. "What are you going to do now?"
"I have no idea. But Clover said that I might be able to stay here," I mew hopefully.
"Very well then. You may stay here for now." I hear a few hisses of rage. One ocelot walks over and growls, "Pine, that is not a wise decision," but Pine growls at her, and she backs away. It’s obvious that he’s the leader here. I’m glad that he is, instead of one of the ocelots that look like they are going to attack any second.
As the day goes on, I learn about the ways of the Ocelot Tribe. They send out hunting patrols during dawn through dusk, but never during the night. The cave we’re in is a huge network of tunnels branching out through the mountain. This cave seems to be the main place where the tribe lives… it’s almost like a town square. During the afternoon, the cave is much brighter and I can see all of the ocelots. There must be tens—maybe even hundreds—of them. There are tiny newborn kittens, old, dying cats and everything in between. I try to be as helpful as possible, watching the kittens while their mothers hunt, and trying to help repair the roof of the cave (there was a storm recently), but no matter what I do, about half of the tribe Ocelot Tribe glares and hisses whenever they see me.
During the late-afternoon, I feel hungry, so I walk over to the food pile and pick up a limp crow. When I do, I hear a few cats spit things along the lines of, "Waste of food," or "Greedy pony." I almost put the crow back, but I decide not to. Unfortunately, Clover’s on a border patrol, and she’s the only ocelot who would rip food up for me… Well, maybe I could ask Pine. He seems to like me somewhat. He’s on the other side of the cave, eating alone. I walk over to him.
"Hello, pony," Pine meows. "Is there something wrong?" I tell him about my predicament, and he gladly tears up the bird for me. I eat it quickly. I think I’m actually getting used to raw meat. It’s not that hard to eat if I just swallow it before it touches my tongue.
"If there’s anything you need, just tell me," Pine meows kindly as I stand up to leave.
"Well, there is something I need."
"What is it?"
"Knowledge," I answer.
Pine chuckles. "What do you want to know?"
I think for a bit before I speak. "Everyone here seems to hate me, Pine. Why?"
"It’s because you’re a different species than our own."
"Why is that such a problem?"
"It’s because of the outbreak of changelings." I rememberHawk saying something about Outsiders.
"What’s a changeling?" I ask.
Pine takes a deep breath before answering my question. "Well," he says slowly. For many years now, horrible creatures have roamed this island. We call them changelings. They only come out at night, and they are gruesome things."
"What do they look like?"
"They look like ponies...except they are black as night, and have insect wings, huge fangs, and holes riddling their bodies. Do you have any other questions?"
"Yes," I mew. "I understand why all of your kind dislikes me. So, why did you accept me so quickly?"
"It is simply because you are a pony," Pine answers quickly. "It would be cruel to condemn you to starvation or thirst or even death by the changelings, especially while your species is either extinct or on the verge of extinction."
He’s lying. I can tell from the guilty look in his eyes.
"I know you’re lying," I hiss. "What’s the real reason?" Pine’s eyes widen, and then narrow. He licks his paw and swipes it across his scraggly fur.
"You are smarter than I had thought, pony," Pine praises. "I will tell the truth, but you might not like it. Are you sure you want to hear?"
"Yes."
"Fine," Pine meows reluctantly. "When I was just a kitten—it must have been fifteen years ago--ponies lived on this land. They built their box-shaped homes on the top of the mountain, and all was well. The ponies who lived here were able to use some sort of magic. Not normal unicorn magic. They could bend earth, fire, water, and air to their will. They were called the Elementals. My mother said that we and the ponies made a pact long ago. The pact was that the ponies got the mountain, and we got everything else. Believe it or not, they built these tunnels. The ponies never bothered us. Everything was good."
"But then, the ponies died out. No one knows why. I remember hearing a commotion; it sounded like explosions were happening. When our scouts arrived at the pony territory, they were all gone. Their homes were all burned to the ground. There were signs of a struggle; bloodstains were everywhere. Yet, no dead bodies were found."
"A few days after the Elementals were destroyed, the changelings came in humongous waves. Many believe that the ponies were protecting us from the creatures."
I’m in shock. How could something like that happen? I don’t want to believe it. But why does that have to do with why Pine accepted me into his tribe so quickly? Then, it becomes clear as day.
"You want me alive…so I can kill the changelings." Pine nods sheepishly. I feel a mix of fury, confusion, and grief.
"How could you expect me to do such a thing?!" Everyone stares at me. I force myself to lower my voice.
"I don’t even know who I am, let alone how to chase away the changelings," I meow.
"You don’t remember anything about yourself?" I grope my mind, searching for any detail at all, but nothing except my name comes up, as always. I come up to that same, solid wall in my mind. "No, I answer. Not a thing."
"Pity," Pine meows sadly. He stares at my foreleg for a second. "Do you remember how that mark on your foreleg got there?"
"What mark?" I ask. I look at my right foreleg and notice a little, blue, circular mark. It looks so familiar…wait, I know what that is! The day I met Clover, I woke from a dream about a blood river because of a pain in the exact same place. There was a little wound there. It doesn’t hurt anymore. But why is it blue now? I tell Pine everything, including the dream.
"So you know when that mark appeared, Pine says, but do you know how it appeared?"
"Sorry, but no."
Then, the border patrol comes back. It consists of Clover, and two other ocelots I don’t know the names of. All three of them dash into the room at full speed, looking terrified. Pine jumps up and yowls, "What is happening? Is it an attack?!"
"No," one of the members of the patrol answers.
"Then what is going on?" The three cats take a moment to catch their breath before Clover pipes up.
"We found another pony."
