Anton and Creepette stepped into the room and looked about. It was, simply put, small. About twelve-by-twelve, it had what was approximately a twin-sized bed, a small wardrobe, and, as if just to fill the room up some more, a small desk. The door had just enough room to open, with a four-by-four section of the floor open and covered by a small rug. The rest of the floor was compact dirt.

“Well, it’s better than no shelter, and it was free. I guess we just take what we can get.”

“Fuud...”

Creepette looked up at him with big, sad eyes, with a faint rumble from her belly. Her ears were flat back and her lower lip trembled. It was like looking at a larger version of a sad CMC member.

“Oh, right... I don’t think digging up the floor for fungus would be ideal... uh... maybe I’ll ask the barkeeper and hope she has something.”

Anton left for a moment to inquire about any spare slime molds that were available. Creepette just sat in the open part of the floor looking sad.

In the main room, Anton went up to the bar, but couldn’t see the owner anywhere.

“Hello?”

“Hello, again.”

The source of the voice made Anton jump, and he spun around to see that the owner was standing behind him, with her hood up still. He could just make out the edges of her gentle smile as she regarded him.

“Was the room satisfactory? I know it isn’t very big, by the standards of many, but it’s the best I have.”

“Oh the room is fine, but I was wondering if you had some sort of food for the mare I was with. She uh, eats fungus.”

The mare nodded once, and spoke again in her quiet, strong voice.

“I know of her kind’s diet. I will see about finding something she can eat. I’ll send it to your room when it’s available.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate all your help, really. I hope that it won’t be too much trouble.”

She chuckled.

“Nonsense. I’m glad I could help. I haven’t left this town since it first sprang up. I’ve seen it descend into the madness it now festers in, and can do nothing about it. And if helping keep a single small spark of kindness from guttering out costs me a little bit of my time, then so be it.”

She sighed wistfully, before shaking her head.

“Really, it’s no trouble at all.”

Anton didn’t really have much to say, but he still had a few questions.

“I’d like to ask you a bit about this town, in the morning of course.”

“Absolutely. A little civilized conversation on a topic other than trying to burn down my home and drive me out would be a great refreshment after the more common speeches the rest of this town delivers to me. I’ll see you in the morning, then?”

Anton gave a small nod

“Yes, I’d like to try and do something. Where I come from, people respect other genders a lot more than here. I’ll ask why this place is like this tomorrow.”

She nodded, and Anton then headed back to the room, and told Creepette that she’d get some food, but stopped when he saw she was already happily slurping up a bowl of what looked like a thick soup.

‘Well, she works fast, or she has help... that tentacle thing maybe? I’ll worry about that later, I’m going to enjoy this bed.’

Climbing into the bed, he groaned at the mild soreness of his muscles and the comfort of the bed. It wasn’t much more comfortable than the ground, but it was warmer. After he finished settling down for a moment, Creepette finished her meal and clambered up onto the bed with him, snuggling down on top of him. She was warm, fuzzy, and very much a cuddle-bug.

‘Nothing wrong with that at all.’

Wrapping his ‘arms’ around her, he felt himself drifting off to sleep, the last thought occupying his mind being, ‘Her breath smells like new england clam chowder now...’

Anton woke up with a bad case of morning mouth. Thinking back, he hadn’t eaten in a day or so, but he still wasn’t hungry yet. It was also, nominally, morning.

Creepette had, sometime in the night, rolled off of him and was laying, belly-up, on the bed next to him, her breathing steady and regular. It was a bit like looking at a cat or dog laying on its back, with her legs partly up in the air and tail swishing side-to-side every few moments.

After taking a few minutes to wake up fully, Anton realized the light he was seeing wasn’t sunlight coming in through a window, but rather a patch of some kind of greenish material, threaded through with brownish veins. The patch was growing in the ceiling, and provided a nice, low level of light that coincided nicely with his preferences this soon after waking up.

‘Wonder what that’s made of, I’ll ask about it after I’ve gotten a few answers about this messed up world.’

Rolling carefully off the bed, so as not to disturb Creepette’s slumber, Anton landed on the rug, taking a moment to stretch like a cat and pop his spine and neck in many places. Stretch done with, Anton padded out to the main room once more. For the second time, the barkeep was not visible behind the bar as he came out, and he had to wonder where she was and how she got around so silently.

“Hey, uh, are you awake?”

He tried asking quietly just in case she wasn’t, he didn’t want to wake her up so rudely after she’d been so helpful.

“Indeed, I am awake. How did you sleep, last night?”

Again, the voice from behind trick was impressive, because he’d been sure there was nobody behind him, just a blank wall. Sure enough, turning around showed her standing behind him, barely lit by the glow the green light sources that illuminated the room just enough to be comfortable. He’d decided at some point to see if they gave off heat or something, as he had no idea how anything could glow like that. Other than glowsticks, of course. Complex chemical reaction, then?

“I slept well, much better than I did on the ground the last few days. So anyway, who decided that gender should be so heavily discriminated against in the first place?”

“Ah, to the questions already. I suppose the answer to your question is ‘nature’. My name is Asphodel, by the way.”

“Right, uh, my name’s Anton. Didn’t mean to be rude, I was... tired last night.”

He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. Asphodel just shook her head.

“It’s alright. I understand that you were tired. Anyways, did you have any further questions? And would you like some breakfast?”

“Yes, some food would be nice. And I do have further questions after we’ve eaten and Creepette has woken up.”

“Alright, I’ll bring the food to your room, then. It should be ready shortly.”

“Thank you. I just find it hard to believe that a kind, helpful, accepting person is the minority. How does a society like that function?”

He decided to go back to his room and get an answer later. He needed something to get rid of the taste in his mouth.

Turning away, he started to his room, pausing for a moment to ask how she got around so quietly, only to see that she’d already left, no trace at all that she had been there.

Shrugging, he just shook his head and went to the room, figuring he could just ask her later.

He got back to the room to see Creepette still asleep, her belly up and her legs tucked in. It was, quite frankly, adorable. He had to wonder how she could be so serene, and calm so much of the time, then switch suddenly to being terrified. It mystified him to an extent, and he thought about it as he settled onto the bed himself, in order to be next to her.

‘Oh well, she’s safe now, that’s what really matters.’

He briefly wondered if he should rub her tummy, but there was a 50/50 chance she wouldn’t like it.

‘Screw it, she’s adorable, and fuzzy.’

Reaching out with both paws he began rubbing her belly, making her kick feebly and wake up giggling. The positive reaction resulted in her grappling his limbs, but he was alright with that, as he didn’t mind being pulled halfway over her for a hug. She snuggled him close to her, rubbing her cheek against the top of his head as she pressed his face to her chest. She was certainly a lot less bony than before, and her warmth made him sigh and relax into her grip.

‘So soup is good enough, saves me the trouble of having to find nasty slime. Maybe things are starting to look up. Aside from the weird misogynist town. I hope I can fix that. I’ll worry about it later.’

Snuggling close to her for a while longer, he heard her murmur ‘Uhn-gee’ happily into his ear. It wasn’t the worst nickname he could have, that was for sure. He was a bit startled when he heard Asphodel’s behind him, at the entrance to the room.

“Hello, Anton. Your food is ready.”

“Fuud!”

Anton was almost flipped over by Creepette’s sudden movement, and he landed on the floor, facing towards the two of them. The bowl had been set on the desk, with a small tray that had a dish on it settled next to it.

Asphodel was sitting in the dirt in front of the open door, hood up but smiling softly.

“It seems your compatriot likes my cooking.”

“Yes, it seems she does. You must be good.”

She shrugged and a faint blush worked to her face.

“I suppose. It’s just some soup made from the fish that live in the river and some cream. Along with some mushrooms and spices, it makes a tasty stew. Anyways, I made you some eggs and a fillet of the river fish. I know that your kind eat mostly red meat, but I hope the fish will be satisfactory.”

“I used to really like fish a lot, not sure if I do now... I’ll uh, explain later if you want.”

“It is alright. Please, help yourself. I have already eaten.”

“Alright.”

He took a bite of the fish, and hoped he still could eat seafood, it was one of his favorite kinds of food.

The fish was a bit flaky, very warm, and tasted faintly of butter. Other than that, he couldn’t taste it very much, and the texture didn’t seem to be as good as he remembered. He could eat it, but it wasn’t the wonderful experience he remembered from being human. Looking next to the fish was what appeared to be a cheese omelet.

‘Oh well, at least I can eat fish still. Please may whatever Gods there are let me enjoy eggs.’

Taking a sniff, he could attest that at least they still smelled incredible, and he took a cautious bite.

He was not prepared.

He couldn’t have prepared.

He was nearly knocked to his feet by the sheer amount of delicious flavor, the smooth texture of the cheese, the rich taste of the eggs, the wonderful way it nearly overrode his every sense just to focus on how awesome these eggs were.

He blinked a few times, and realized that he’d eaten the entire thing, and couldn’t remember doing so.

Slowly convincing the probably stupid expression to leave his face peacefully, he realized that both of the mares in the room were staring at him.

Flecks of fish-meat decorated much of the room, along with bits of egg. Apparently, he’d lost all his table manners while devouring the delicious eggs.

He burped once, eliciting a giggle from Creepette, who apparently found the entire situation entertaining.

“So... was it any good, Anton?”

How Asphodel managed not to even laugh a little bit as she held that same calm smile while she asked the question, Anton would never know. But he could tell it was a struggle for her, judging by the twitch the edges of her lips had spontaneously acquired.

“Best. Omelet. Ever.”

The smile dawned on Asphodel’s face at last and she laughed. Anton found himself joining in, and Creepette did, too. Once the three of them finished their laughter, Creepette nuzzled up to him, and he felt her start gnawing and nibbling at his mane and coat.

“I am glad you enjoyed it. Now, I believe you had questions still? You may ask them, if you wish, while you are groomed.”

“Uh, sure. So, what is the purpose for all the prejudice? There has to be a reason, right?”

“As I stated before, nature is largely to blame.”

“Well, I understand that not everyone has to get along, that’s normal, but why the utter hate? I mean, from what you’ve said, extreme physical torture is... not uncommon.”

“Not... not torture, per se, but certainly abuse. In this town, many of the common perceptions have been... ‘reversed’, if you will, and then amplified. Judging by your apparent point of view, I would assume you are not native to these lands, then?”

“Yeah, I’m from pretty far away, that’s... accurate. But is there any reason for being so violent? Getting even and being worse doesn't fix the problem, it makes it worse. I understand being mistreated, but the point should be to resolve the mistreatment, not reciprocate it. Right? So why do the stallions want to make things more difficult for everyone, rather than easier for themselves?”

“Because, for many, it started exactly as you describe; several families came here, near the edge of the Living Woods, to have an equal life between them. But sometimes, the abused become the abusive, and a great number of the stallions who had come from herds that had not treated them even as sentient beings came into power.

And that is when things changed. It is easy to convince yourself that if you do not see it or hear it, it does not happen. Perhaps the inequine races do not find that to be so, but most of the myriad races of ponykind fear the outsider and refuse to interact beyond their own communities, their own families.

I- I’m not sure where or when the change happened, exactly, but it was quickly made that mares were brought to the point many stallions suffer elsewhere, or worse. From there, things have only gotten worse in the last century of their reign. And on top of that, simple miseducation has made it harder to find level minds in this town any more.”

As Asphodel finished her speech, Creepette looked up from where she’d been nibbling at the back of Anton’s neck.

“Town?”

Anton winced, and he tried explaining as Creepette looked back and forth between him and Asphodel.

“Uh, let me explain. Creepette isn’t very... cultured. In fact, I met her in the wild. I tried to explain what things meant, but words got misunderstood... I was hoping for a place I could take her to help this issue. Unfortunately, given your descriptions, that won’t happen here.”

“Indeed? Does the word she spoke tell of danger, then?”

“She thinks it means ‘hug’, it’s not... bad, just uh, very, very misinterpreted,”

Asphodel nodded, and gestured to Anton to continue his questions.

“Alright, so I know I’m just one person, but I’d like to make a point to these people. That not all stallions are stupid or useless, and mares aren't evil. That nobody deserves this treatment. Who would I talk to to get my point across?”

“I cannot think of anyone in this town with both the power and the sympathetic point of view you would need for that. But I can point you towards a baker’s shop, whose owner is kind to his herd and shares your views of equality. He might at least be able to send you on your way, when you are ready to leave.”

“So, if there’s so few ponies who care about equal rights, why do you live here? Is there nowhere better?”

“Many places would be better, but to tear up my home and leave would be... impossible at my age. My roots run too deeply into this town for me to simply go.”

“Roots? So how long has your family lived here?”

“Oh, my family does not live here. My mother lives many months travel to the north-west, across the mountains, and the two sisters I know of have settled into the forests in the earth-mistress’ realm. I meant ‘roots’ literally. I am a maredragora, or a plant-mare as some would call me. Or ‘firewood’, as some of the strikingly less sensitive and more imaginative townsfolk would call me.”

“Th- That’s sick! Why would they do something like that?”

She snorted derisively, obviously not thinking much of the threats.

“It is not that they have tried anything since the early days. It has been nearly seventy years since they last tried to remove me, and I tore down half the town in response. Admittedly, I still have not fully recovered from my retaliation on them, but it has made them wary of trying to remove me.”

“That doesn’t make it right, who is so twisted to consider a living being a resource!?”

“It is an old insult, similar to calling one of the elven kind a ‘stilty’ because of their legs. I have weathered worse storms than the winds that even those blowhards can produce with words alone.”

“Yes, I know racially insulting slang, but that doesn't make it any better. I wish you could come with me, I just... want to make things clearer, don’t they realize that abuse won’t make you better than anyone else, it just turns you into a bully?”

“I doubt it. Very few of the ponies away from the capitals and the major cities receive more than a cursory education.”

“Damn, I leave a really messed up place, and end up in a place almost completely worse. Can you tell me anything good about this world?”

“There is much good in the world, but most of it is far from here. But acts of kindness still abound in this place. They are simply less... overt. Such as the postmaster’s daughter, who has learned to paint false bruises on herself so her father doesn’t have to beat her just to retain his position. Or the Baker of which I told you previously, who still provides food to those who would otherwise not be able to afford it. Just because the good is not immediately visible, does not mean it isn’t there.”

Asphodel sighed and looked around for a moment.

“But we are all trapped here by circumstance. For many, they have nowhere else to go, and taking their family and their possessions would be impossible. And in this world, no money will often mean no supplies, and no chances in the wilds between cities.”

“I know what you mean. Creepette and I had a rather... interesting experience in the forest. Not too easy for anyone anywhere, I take it?”

“I assume you speak of the reasons why the forest is known as the Living Woods, then?”

“Yeah, real nasty. If it weren't for Creepette, we’d be dead. And due to previous struggles, I’ve helped her out, so I see us as equal. I just wish people would stop judging others before seeing what they are actually like.”

Asphodel nodded, and Creepette gave Anton a hug. He looked down at himself and saw that all the bits of egg and fish had been worked out of his coat, and his fur looked almost glossy, his scales clean. Apparently, they didn’t shine even when clean, but that was alright.

“I take it you have control of what goes on in this place, which is, if I’m not mistaken, part of you?”

“If you refer to the building, then yes, it is a part of me. Or, rather, I am a part of it.”

Asphodel pulled her hood back, revealing a largely pony-like shape to her head and face, but the entire thing was nothing but vines, leaves, and bark-covered wood. Her mane looked like it was a fall of green leaves, and her eyes were nothing but a pair of flowers, each of them with pale cream petals of the asphodel plant, fittingly.

In all, she looked kinda like a timberwolf, but pony-shaped, and without the glowing bits.

“My... original form was a bit more cohesive, but in the end it was sacrificed for continued growth when I first put down roots here nearly three centuries ago with my lover at the time.”

She sighed and looked into the distance nostalgically, obviously reminiscing about times gone by.

“I just wish he’d been able to pollinate me fully, I would’ve liked to have daughters while he still lived. Oh well, even earth ponies don’t live long enough.”

“I wouldn’t say they don’t live long enough, I’d say that you just live much longer. It’s still sad though, I bet your daughters would be cute. But raising them in a town like this...”

“Oh, they would’ve scattered to the winds long before this happened. Gone to find their own hills or brooks to live by, perhaps finding love or perhaps simply bringing about another generation in solitude.”

“Yeah, I just don’t understand why ponies think being abusive in response will make things better. I definitely understand self-gratification and getting even, but that doesn’t make it right. I just hope I meet others who would like to see change, and maybe we can do something about it. Wishful thinking it seems, though.”

“Hmm... perhaps not. But it will take a few generations of the shorter-lived kine to turn this slow vessel about.”

“Town, Uhn-gee?”

Anton gave in and gave the green mare a hug, thinking idly to himself ‘And a way to help you with your word issues.’ as Asphodel laughed.

“If you wish to leave this town peacefully, you may stay here a night, and go to the Baker in the morning. His name is Fresh Loaf, and he will be able to get you out of the town with some basic supplies; a simple club and some loaves of travel bread, most likely.”

“I’m not sure I’m going to be very good with a club, and why would a baker have a wooden club?”

“In this town, why not?”

“Tact-lee!”

Anton looked at her with surprise. He’d only used the word once, and she got it in the right context. Maybe it won’t be as hard to-

“Tact-lee! Tact-lee!”

Fuck. What does she think this means? Anton readied for another faceclaw. The mare simply said the word, repeating it happily. It amused Asphodel quite a bit.

“I am not sure what she means, but it seems she is quite entertained by the word.”

“Tact-lee!”

Anton sighed and just placed his paw across his muzzle.

“Yes, yes she does.”

“I am sorry you will not be able to leave this day. Also, I must ask you a question.”

The mare summoned forth what appeared to be a large plant bulb from the ground, on an incredibly thick stem, almost twice as big around as his new wrists. The flower on top looked like an asphodel flower.

“Uh... sure; but, what’s this for exactly?”

The flower opened, revealing a blue-and-orange checkerboard painted onto the wooden base. Sixteen carved, wooden pieces were arranged on the board.

“Do you know how to play chess?”

The mare had an excellent endgame. It also helped that she generated the pieces for her own side, always playing white every game. Still, he’d beaten her once, with a barely remembered gambit.

Later, they’d had some fresh fruits and vegetables, along with a really tasty, meaty soup of some kind; she called it ‘Steakroot Stew’. Apparently, there wasn’t any actual meat in it.

“It’s been so long since I played chess with anyone, thank you for the game. I don’t even mind that I lost almost every time.”

“It is no trouble. I get lonely, and not many would deign to play such an intellectual game with me.”

“It only proves that books are judged by their cover much too often.”

The mare smiled thinly and nodded. Anton took a moment before remembering the key portion of most books. Paper.

“Oh... uh, did I just make a mistake? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to insult.”

“It is no problem. I understand your needs for material resources, and it is exceedingly rare for any sentient race to be used in such materials. But all things alive deserve the respect they have earned for their places in the cycle of life. As such, politicians live somewhere below redundant species.”

Anton merely chuckled, cracking a grin once more.

“Isn’t that the truth.”

The mare agreed, as Creepette yawned hugely, revealing dainty little black teeth. The young mare ‘murr’ed and crawled from Anton’s side to the bed, flopping down onto the comfortable mattress. Anton found himself yawning similarly moments after.

“Ah, I see you have tired. I will wake you in the morning, if you do not on your own. I will also provide another breakfast. Sleep well, friend.”

Anton merely gave her a tired smile as he got into bed by Creepette’s side. The green, mat-furred pony snuggled in close to his side, pressing her muzzle gently to his neck, sending a thrill down his spine.

She felt so warm, and so... his...

Author's Note

So, what do you think of things?
Tell me, so that I may tell you things right back.

Constructive criticism is always helpful. Meaningful comments are always helpful.
Money is always helpful, no matter who you are.

So, yeah, donate your words please.